A/N: Part One of a Two Part piece I've written for the Prompts in Panem challenge. All the thanks in the world to Jessa for always putting this on for us everlark crackheads and for being so awesome. And to my lovely beta/friend Court81981 for all her support. Enjoy! :)

Oh. Fuck.

I turn away from the blue eyes of Peeta Mellark and cringe, hoping he didn't see me across the bar. I've had the worst fucking week at work and the last thing I need is running into my best friend's asshole of an ex-boyfriend.

Peeta Mellark is an arrogant douchebag.

He's also really fucking hot. But that's beside the point.

I make my way back towards the table where Johanna is waiting for me. I tell her who I just saw, and her eyes go wide in shock.

"He's here?"

I nod my head in the direction across the bar, where I saw him. "I thought he moved back home for a while after he and Madge broke up, but apparently he's back."

"Guess so," Johanna shrugs as she downs her gin and tonic.

I catch up and finish about half of my third rum and Coke, pushing me into the definitely drunk territory.

"That fucking asshole. I should go tell him what I think of him," I say, scanning my eyes across the bar in search of the blond hair and blue eyes in question.

"Like he'd give a fuck," Johanna scoffs. "Dude probably has no short supply of pussy to ravage."

My thighs clench just a little at the image of Peeta Mellark going to town on a pussy, and I slap away the guilt by reasoning with myself that I'm pretty damn drunk. He is hot. Unfortunately him being an asshole can't really erase that fact.

"I've heard things about that man's cock…" Johanna hums dreamily, and I look over at her in shock.

"What?" she protests. "It was before they broke up obviously. You get a couple drinks in Madge and she'll spill anything. She gave him very high marks."

I roll my eyes but secretly let myself fantasize for a moment or two. So he's a good-looking asshole who is also great in bed. What a shock.

It doesn't matter though. This bit of information just makes me hate him even more.

Johanna stands up out of nowhere, shaking her hair out. "I want to dance. You down?"

I shake my head and lean back in the small booth, not really in the mood to bump and grind tonight.

She disappears into the crowd of people without another word and makes her way to the far corner of the bar where a cluster of people are packed tightly together, moving to the beat of the music.

I don't even have a chance to take a deep breath before someone slides into the empty seat across from me.

Peeta Mellark.

My mouth hangs open in shock, stunned that he would have the nerve to just ambush me like this.

"Hey you," he grins at me like we're actually friends, leaning across the table so I can see his tanned, muscular forearms and his navy blue shirt stretch across his broad shoulders.

"What do you want?" I try for the coldest, bitchiest tone I can muster.

"To talk to you obviously," he laughs, leaning back now against the booth, stretching his arm across the back of the seat, looking poised and relaxed.

"Why the hell would you want to talk to me?" I ask. "We're not friends. Not even close. Especially after what you did to Madge."

There is a brief flash of something I can't quite identify across his face, but it's gone as soon as it appears. His expression melts back into that flippant, self-assured, asshole persona he does so well.

"We could be friends though," he offers, a dangerous glint to his eyes, as he looks me over. "We could get to know each other."

Something about the way he says that makes me shiver in anticipation. There's a heat to his gaze that unnerves me, makes me think there is something raw and feral and completely unexpected behind those blue eyes.

I moved to town only about three weeks before he and Madge broke up so I'm not technically lying when I say we're not friends. He might have dated my best friend for almost a year, but I only really met him when I moved here right before things ended between them. Then he moved back home and Madge moved across the country for grad school. That was six months ago.

"Why would I want to have anything to do with you?" I ask. "You cheated on my best friend."

He clenches his jaw and looks away from me, seeming to debate something in his head for a long moment. When he looks back at me, his easy-going smile has returned and he looks me up and down, making no attempt to hide his appraisal.

"You look really good tonight, Katniss. Really good," he laughs, covering his face. "Fuck, I saw you in those heels across the bar and…damn."

I curse myself when heat rushes to my cheeks, praying the dim lighting hides my blush. I'm having an internal debate, struggling between the horny female side of me that is eating up these compliments from an attractive man with glee, and the strong-willed, feminist best friend in me that is stubbornly clinging to my love and loyalty to Madge.

I cross my arms in front of my chest and look away, determined not to let him know he has any effect on me.

"Look…is the way things ended between Madge and me the only thing keeping you from wanting to get to know me better?" He raises his eyebrows slightly towards the end of the sentence, leaving no doubt what he means by 'getting to know him better.'

I gawk at the fucking nerve of this guy.

"What the hell do you mean the only thing? How can you sit there and act like cheating on a girl who your were in a serious relationship with—who was freaking in love with you!—is not a big deal?"

"I never said that," he replies calmly. "I asked if it was the only thing keeping you from maybe not hating my guts."

I stare back at him in confusion, trying to figure out where he's going with this. I consider his question.

"I find your whole personality pretty off-putting if I'm going to be completely honest," I say, wanting to put him in his place. "It's the cheating thing obviously. But you also just come across as arrogant and lascivious. It makes me uncomfortable."

He throws his head back and laughs, a deep rumbling sound from his belly and a smile that lights up his whole face. When he looks back at me his eyes are sparkling with amusement.

"Sounds like someone is uncomfortable with their sexuality."

My mouth hangs open in shock. "What? No I'm not! You're—Just because I'm not attracted to you!" I splutter out indignantly, but my cheeks flame on the last few words as the bold-faced lie slips out of my mouth.

"It's alright darling, I have that effect on a lot of women."

I scowl at him, my anger returning in full force. "Well, good for you. Why don't you go try putting the moves on one of them then," I gesture to the crowd of people around us, "because I'm definitely not interested." I look him dead in the eyes. "Especially not in a guy that would cheat on a woman, my best friend or not. It just shows what kind of man you really are."

The stupid little smirk falls from his face.

"I didn't cheat on Madge."

His face goes so solemn and serious that it takes me off guard. I study him carefully, looking for any signs that he's lying, but I see nothing but sincerity.

I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off.

"You don't have to believe me. You probably won't. But on the off chance that you do…and the off chance that it might make you…you know, not hate me anymore…I figured you should know. I never cheated on her. I would never do that. I'm a coward, but I'm not that big of an asshole."

"And I'm supposed to buy that?"

"I said I didn't expect you to." He laughs and shakes his head. "Look, you want the truth, I told her there was someone else and she jumped to conclusions. I just never bothered to correct her. It was over between us anyways. You can ask her if you don't believe me."

He stands up from the table and comes over to my side of the booth, leaning down so his mouth is right next to my ear. He pushes some strands of hair away so I can feel his hot breath on my skin and rests his other hand on my thigh. My body goes rigid with anticipation; awareness of how close he is floods me with warmth.

"Maybe knowing that I'm not the asshole you thought I was will ease your guilt for wanting me so bad, sweetheart," he whispers into my ear with a small laugh. "And don't worry. I want you just as bad. More even." He squeezes my thigh and then pulls away, turning and walking away before my body can stop tingling from his touch.

I do some investigating.

I send Madge an e-mail asking how she likes grad school and her new city. And I also casually mention running into her douchebag ex, making sure she knows I told him off, but prying for a bit more information too.

I never really got the whole story from her. She was already planning on leaving for grad school before the break-up and knowing that he cheated on her was really all the information I needed at the time. I helped her pack, and then we devoured pints of ice cream while watching chick flicks together until she felt better.

Her response throws me for a bit of a loop because it seems to suggest two things that I'm not quite sure how to handle: that Peeta Mellark is not a total piece of shit, and that he might even be telling the truth about not cheating on Madge.

Okay so I may have been really hard on him when it happened, but I appreciate your loyalty anyways! Haha I was just super into him and then out of nowhere he's telling me there's someone else. I guess I never really knew for sure if he acted on it, but I just assumed since he never said anything to defend himself. Whatever, I'm over it. He actually sent me an e-mail a few weeks ago apologizing again. I'm not about to be his friend, but I don't hate him as much anymore lol.

I consider that he actually never did say anything about cheating to Madge specifically and that he even e-mailed her later to apologize. It certainly seems possible that he's telling the truth.

I push it from my mind, deciding I'm not going to try and figure out the inner workings of Peeta Mellark's mind. I meant what I told him at the bar the other night. Even if he really didn't cheat on Madge, I can't stand the guy. He makes me uncomfortable and I'm sure he's just looking for a quick fuck, which I'm not entirely opposed to—when the guy isn't a huge douchebag.

It's Sunday night so I decide I should throw some clothes in the washer. I gather my hamper and make my way to the bottom floor of my apartment building. As I start sorting the mountain of clothes into separate piles I realize I should have done this a lot sooner. I'm wearing the only clean clothes I have left: a pair of shorts that barely cover my ass and a stretchy tank top without a bra.

"Well, if this isn't the best damn thing I've seen all day."

I freeze at the sound of that voice and cringe, realizing I'm bent over, stuffing clothes in the washer and probably exposing half my ass.

I stand and turn to find Peeta Mellark holding his own bag of clothes over his shoulder, wearing athletic shorts and a plain white t-shirt. He's smirking at me, cocky and infuriating as ever.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Thought this was the laundry room for the building," he explains, walking up to the washer beside me and throwing his bag down. "I was under the impression anyone who lives here could use it."

My jaw drops as I stare at him incredulously. I tell myself the way my heart starts to speed up is solely out of irritation.

"You're fucking kidding, right?"

"Unfortunately not," he grins, dropping all his clothes into the washer next to me and adding detergent. "We're neighbors now," he smiles happily, "I'm 1B. Where are you?"

"2B," I reply in a daze, not quite believing this is happening. "So you're stalking me?"

He laughs and the sound is warm and rich. "Nope, just a lucky coincidence, sweetheart."

"Whatever," I grumble, closing the lid on my washer and starting the cycle.

He leans back against the washer and turns to face me, looking me up and down with a long, slow gaze.

I cross my arms in front of my chest, realizing that my nipples are poking through the thin fabric of my tank top.

"So you talk to Madge yet? Did she back my story up?" he asks, surprising me by not making a comment about my body or lack of clothes.

"Yeah, congratulations, you're not total scum. You are, however, still a douchebag."

He puts his hand over his heart and feigns being wounded. "Come on darling, you know I didn't two-time your friend now. Can't you ease up on me a little?"

"No," I return stubbornly. I like seeing him grovel for my attention and approval, I realize. He should have to work for something for once in his life.

"Ah, I see. You like to play hard to get," he grins, his smile revealing a dimple in his cheek, his blue eyes lighting up with amusement.

I scoff and shake my head. "Can't you just believe that a woman might not actually want you like that?"

"Well it hasn't happened to me so far," he replies with a cheeky grin.

I roll my eyes, as two blondes with obnoxiously high voices enter the laundry room. I think they live on the first floor and have ridiculous names like Glitter and Candy or something equally stupid. They both stop when they see Peeta, not even trying to be discreet as they eye him up and down, clearly liking what they see.

"Hi, I'm Glimmer and this is my roommate, Cashmere. Did you just move in?"

Peeta turns his back to me and then steps forward to shake their hands. I clench my jaw and tell myself my annoyance is because I can't stand those girls, not because they're so obviously hitting on Peeta.

They make small talk for a few moments, and I busy myself by looking for something so I don't have to leave just yet even though all my clothes are in the washers. The girls are switching their clothes from the washers to the dryers and so blatantly flirting with Peeta it's obnoxious. Like he really needs another shot to his ego.

"You should let us take you out sometime and show you the neighborhood if you just moved here," Glimmer insists.

I feel a strong arm wrap around my waist and look up to see Peeta smiling down at me. His thumb strokes the bare skin of my hipbone exposed between my shorts and tank top.

"Thanks for the offer girls," he replies, only looking at me, "but Katniss here actually just offered to do that, right?"

My mouth parts and I stare back at him, amazed at how one person can be so simultaneously alluring and infuriating. My heart is beating fast at his proximity, at his arm around my body and I realize that yes, I am attracted to him, and yes, I still can't stand him.

"Right," I respond back through clenched teeth, offering him a falsely sweet smile.

I'd rather play along than give those two skanks the opportunity to get their claws on him and spread whatever venereal diseases they might have.

Once the girls are gone I break away from his touch and grab my empty laundry basket. I move to grab my phone, but Peeta is there before me, snatching it right before I can get my hand on it.

"What are you doing?" I stomp my foot angrily, realizing I act like a toddler throwing a tantrum around him a lot.

He punches in a few things and then there is a buzzing coming from his pocket. He smiles and hands my phone back to me.

"There. Now you have my number and I have yours. We'll get working on this 'you not hating my guts' thing, okay?" he says with a smile.

I snatch my phone out of his hand and stomp my way out of the laundry room.

"Don't count on it," I call over my shoulder.

A couple of hours later I'm folding laundry and eating dinner while watching TV. I hear a knock on the door and when I answer it, a shirtless Peeta Mellark is standing there with a brown paper bag in his hands.

My eyes are riveted to his chest. Cut and defined and strong, his stomach muscles are hard ridges divided between a dark trail of hair that disappears down below his shorts. Jesus fuck, he is beautiful. I feel the wetness gathering between my legs and I shift uncomfortably, dragging my eyes up to meet his gaze.

"What?" I snap at him, irritated that he just shows up at my door like this. My body is a traitor because my brain still knows I don't want anything to do with him.

"Thought I'd start giving you reasons to believe that I'm not quite the asshole you think I am," he explains, holding out the paper bag for me.

I take it from him reluctantly.

"Cheese buns," he says. "I make them and they're delicious. You'll love them, I promise."

I set the bag down on the entry table. "Uh, well thanks, I guess," I shrug, not sure what else to say. Seeing this other side of him is throwing me for a bit of a loop again, but I don't want to put my guard down just yet. I don't think a tiger changes its stripes that easily.

"Um, one other thing…" he says, and his eyes darken and he takes a step closer to me.

I tense up as he places his hands on my waist and pulls me towards him. I'm locked in his gaze, helpless to do or say anything.

He dips his head and sucks on the skin at the curve of my neck, flicking his tongue and nibbling with soft bites. I gasp and it takes me a second to realize that I'm clinging to him, not pushing him away.

He lifts his mouth to my ear and then whispers, "I can fuck pretty well too."

He releases me and turns away, disappearing down the hall before I can even move or speak.

In a daze, I shut the door behind him and then move back to my couch and collapse against it.

Well, fuck.