"Someone's happy to see the beer," she replied with an amused smile. "I'd apologize for the sneak attack, but neighbor opened the door and well, you guys shouldn't be so trusting. It doesn't look like I scared you too bad anyway." Jo stepped inside, brown eyes taking in the apartment and after a moment, she gave a small nod of approval. "Nice place. Definitely nicer than mine." Spotting the kitchen, the blond walked over and set the beer down on the counter, taking out a few of the bottles and stocking them in the fridge as if this was not the first time she'd been here. As if she'd been coming here for forever. It was weird. She felt strangely comfortable around him. She was normally comfortable around most guys, but this was different and Jo couldn't really put her finger on it. Maybe all the crazy was starting to get to her now too. She'd just met Dean. There should have been nothing even remotely close the familiar about him. More than likely, all those people over the network just had her paranoid or something. Dreams? Yeah right. Another life? Bull fucking shit.
Not a fan of warm beer by far, the young woman stocked the fridge and closed the door, tossing the cardboard in the trash. A large grin formed on her face and she stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "Should I kick your ass now or wait till I have a cold beer? Decisions," she laughed. To Jo, a cold beer would have just been a sweet, added bonus. The number of guys she'd run off, tails between their legs, completely stripped of their masculinity was more than just a few. They ranged from childhood friends to dicks in school who just thought a girl was only good for one thing. Many had asked her for a date, bet on it, and lost it. She took their money and what was left of their ego. There was nothing sweeter than buying a six pack with someone else's money, fresh from a victory or two. Back before she was of legal age, mostly, it would have been candy or toy of some kind. Water balloons were always a hit, weren't they?
Movement out of the corner of a brown eye caught Jo's attention and she looked over, finding the television screen and whatever was on at the moment. "What are you watching?" Jo pointed at the television with a pale finger. The waitress didn't do much television, mostly because she worked nights at the bar and it didn't close till two in the morning. When she came home, the last thing she wanted was to flip on the t.v. and see what was on. She brushed her teeth and fell face first into her pillow on particularly bad, bad nights. She usually managed a shower first. The young woman was lucky if she was up by noon on a weekday unless she actually had to be to work before that, but again, it was rare that she was at the bar while the sun was still high in the sky. She got to watch it set before stepping into the smoke-filled, dimly lit bar. Her first break? That glowing ball was already gone. It was just the moon and her and leftovers.