"What are the odds?"

Nick turned around on his barstool and looked up. "Warrick."

"Nick."

"What are you doing here?"

"Cruising for a date." Warrick straddled the barstool next to Nick. "Same for you?"

"Pretty much. You're aware this is a gay bar, right?"

"Yeah."

Nick took a pull of his beer. "Just making sure."

Warrick ordered his own beer. "I know what I'm doing."

"Okay."

There were a few moments of silence as Warrick's beer arrived and Nick drank more of his. Warrick broke the silence. "What's your type?"

"My type?"

"Yeah." Warrick turned on his barstool and faced the room. "You like yours tall? Short? Aggressive? Quiet? Leather?"

"Why are you asking?" Nick turned on his own barstool.

"Just curious."

~Scare him.~ "Tall, dark, and handsome. Smart, slightly muscular, exotic eyes."

"Exotic eyes?"

"Yeah." Nick looked over at Warrick. "Like a guy with green eyes when he shouldn't have them."

Warrick raised his eyebrows and smirked a little. "A guy with green eyes when he shouldn't have them."

"What's your type?"

"Dark hair, dark eyes, good body, dimples and black T-shirt are good."

"No brain?"

"Sure, but I'm talking looks."

Nick shook his head. "So I want a guy with exotic eyes and you're looking for a guy who looks good in black shirts."

"Sounds about right."

"Not to sound egotistical, but I get the feeling you're not here by accident."

Warrick sipped his beer. "I'm not."

"Then why are you here?"

"Came looking for a guy with a black shirt and dimples."

Nick grinned, his dimples flashing. "Yeah? I came looking for a guy with exotic eyes. What are the odds?"

Warrick grinned back, his eyes greener when they lit up. "I'd say the odds are pretty good."