It's purely coincidental that they both end up at that bar that night, and while they both keep up the pretense that they had been there with friends that had "honestly just left", they each know that the other had been alone.
They've had too many drinks already, but as they sidle up to the bar, they take a few more shots. It's like a competition between them that neither ever wants to lose. Britta wonders if that's what fuels this crazy tension between them, and as she sits beside him, she is fully aware of his body heat and the way he seems to slowly come closer with each new shot. And though things begin to grow hazy with each passing second, Jeff is fully conscious of when their lips meet. The fire that burns in his belly is not purely from the alcohol.
They take a cab back to his place. As he pulls off her jacket, Britta knows they should stop – she had stopped this before – but as they stumble out of the cab, their lips barely tearing away from each other, she is taken over by past feelings. She wants him, and that isn't just the alcohol talking.
Jeff feels as if he shouldn't take advantage of her – god knows they are both drunk – but as he carries her into his bedroom, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, he's not sure that he has the strength to pull away. Despite the haziness of his brain, or maybe because of it, he is aware that this isn't just about sex; he has feelings for Britta, and ones that he's not sure he fully understands.
When they wake up the next morning, hungover, but fully aware of what happened the night before, Britta doesn't rush out of bed. His arm is draped lazily around her side, and despite her independent and feminist tendencies, she realizes she could get used to this. Jeff makes breakfast; from her face, he can tell that she is surprised that he is actually a good cook, and he realizes in that moment that some part of him doesn't want this to end. Despite his independent and one-night stand tendencies, he doesn't want to let her go.
This time around, they aren't scared.
