Garret. Nothing happened.”
“Something damn well better have happened. I paid for it to. I seriously hope you got a good lap dance at least.”
“Will you please hush up? They’re letting the fans in.” At Garret’s deep frown, Chase decided he’d better appease him with something before Garret stormed back into the club and demanded a refund. Visions of what had really happened filled Chase’s head. He’d gotten the lap dance, all right, plus some, but he wasn’t going to tell anyone that. “Don’t worry. You got your money’s worth. Okay?”
Garret seemed pleased by that revelation. “Good, but actually it was you who got my money’s worth. Though I didn’t do too badly with that other dancer myself. She gave me one hell of a lap dance right at our table. We didn’t get to go into the private back room the way you did for a little extra—”
Chase kicked his friend under the table none too gently with the toe of his boot.
“Shh. Garret, people can hear you.” He glanced up at the elderly woman approaching the bull rider at the table next to his. Hopefully, she had poor hearing.
Garret sighed. “Damn. I hope this thing doesn’t go too late. I can barely keep my eyes open.”
Eying a table in the corner covered in canned soft drinks, Chase regretted not grabbing one before he sat down. Caffeine sounded pretty good right about now. Yeah, he’d slept until noon, but he wasn’t sure passing out drunk just before sunrise was the equivalent of getting a good night’s sleep.
A nap sounded pretty good, but Chase doubted he’d be able to sleep if he went upstairs and laid down after this thing anyway. He kept reliving over and over again every detail of what had happened, even now, out in public. He only imagined it would be worse alone in bed. Being tired was a small price to pay for the incredible memories from last night. He wouldn’t have changed a thing.
He smothered a big yawn that snuck out of him.
“Dude, you better rally.” Garret’s voice held a tinge of panic. “Aaron’s brother is going out while we’re here and is picking up beer and bourbon for us. I’m hoping to find a couple of hot chicks at this thing to invite up to our floor for the party after.”
Chase laughed. “Relax. I’ll be okay once I get something to drink.”
“I hear ya. A little hair of the dog that bit you always helps.” Garret grinned. “I’d stick to beer though. You don’t do too good with the hard stuff.”
Chase usually didn’t drink the hard stuff. Last night was Garret’s doing. “I was talking about drinking a pop for some caffeine, but yeah, I’ll be sticking to beer later.”
If he could bring himself to drink alcohol at all.
A fan approached Chase’s table and Garret’s chatter about alcohol thankfully came to an end. For the next hour or two it would be all smiles and autographs and every bull rider on his best behavior. There’d be a few photos and lots of small talk, which was pretty much the same no matter what city they were in. Not that Chase minded at all. Without the fans the sport wouldn’t be anything except a bunch of guys watching each other get thrown in the dirt.
It would have been better if the meet and greet wasn’t after a night of debauchery however. That wasn’t the fans fault though. Come to think of it, it wasn’t Chase’s fault either. He sent another nasty look at Garret.
In between signing programs and T-shirts, he vowed to come up with a plan for revenge. Chase was just wondering what he could do to get back at his friend when he felt Garret’s boot knock into his. He moved his foot, figuring it was an accident, when it happened again.
As he handed a signed T-shirt back to one fan and accepted an event program to sign for the next he shot Garret a sideways glance. “Dude. Why do you keep kicking me?”
When no answer immediately followed, Chase handed the autographed program back to the older woman and her husband, then turned his attention to
“Something damn well better have happened. I paid for it to. I seriously hope you got a good lap dance at least.”
“Will you please hush up? They’re letting the fans in.” At Garret’s deep frown, Chase decided he’d better appease him with something before Garret stormed back into the club and demanded a refund. Visions of what had really happened filled Chase’s head. He’d gotten the lap dance, all right, plus some, but he wasn’t going to tell anyone that. “Don’t worry. You got your money’s worth. Okay?”
Garret seemed pleased by that revelation. “Good, but actually it was you who got my money’s worth. Though I didn’t do too badly with that other dancer myself. She gave me one hell of a lap dance right at our table. We didn’t get to go into the private back room the way you did for a little extra—”
Chase kicked his friend under the table none too gently with the toe of his boot.
“Shh. Garret, people can hear you.” He glanced up at the elderly woman approaching the bull rider at the table next to his. Hopefully, she had poor hearing.
Garret sighed. “Damn. I hope this thing doesn’t go too late. I can barely keep my eyes open.”
Eying a table in the corner covered in canned soft drinks, Chase regretted not grabbing one before he sat down. Caffeine sounded pretty good right about now. Yeah, he’d slept until noon, but he wasn’t sure passing out drunk just before sunrise was the equivalent of getting a good night’s sleep.
A nap sounded pretty good, but Chase doubted he’d be able to sleep if he went upstairs and laid down after this thing anyway. He kept reliving over and over again every detail of what had happened, even now, out in public. He only imagined it would be worse alone in bed. Being tired was a small price to pay for the incredible memories from last night. He wouldn’t have changed a thing.
He smothered a big yawn that snuck out of him.
“Dude, you better rally.” Garret’s voice held a tinge of panic. “Aaron’s brother is going out while we’re here and is picking up beer and bourbon for us. I’m hoping to find a couple of hot chicks at this thing to invite up to our floor for the party after.”
Chase laughed. “Relax. I’ll be okay once I get something to drink.”
“I hear ya. A little hair of the dog that bit you always helps.” Garret grinned. “I’d stick to beer though. You don’t do too good with the hard stuff.”
Chase usually didn’t drink the hard stuff. Last night was Garret’s doing. “I was talking about drinking a pop for some caffeine, but yeah, I’ll be sticking to beer later.”
If he could bring himself to drink alcohol at all.
A fan approached Chase’s table and Garret’s chatter about alcohol thankfully came to an end. For the next hour or two it would be all smiles and autographs and every bull rider on his best behavior. There’d be a few photos and lots of small talk, which was pretty much the same no matter what city they were in. Not that Chase minded at all. Without the fans the sport wouldn’t be anything except a bunch of guys watching each other get thrown in the dirt.
It would have been better if the meet and greet wasn’t after a night of debauchery however. That wasn’t the fans fault though. Come to think of it, it wasn’t Chase’s fault either. He sent another nasty look at Garret.
In between signing programs and T-shirts, he vowed to come up with a plan for revenge. Chase was just wondering what he could do to get back at his friend when he felt Garret’s boot knock into his. He moved his foot, figuring it was an accident, when it happened again.
As he handed a signed T-shirt back to one fan and accepted an event program to sign for the next he shot Garret a sideways glance. “Dude. Why do you keep kicking me?”
When no answer immediately followed, Chase handed the autographed program back to the older woman and her husband, then turned his attention to
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