“Oh shit. Your brother’s gettin’ up on the bull.” Jake points to the other side of the bar. “He ain’t lastin’ eight seconds on that thing.”
I sigh at him waving his cowboy hat in the air. “Fuckin’ hell. I swear he thinks he has nine lives or some shit.”
Landen and Tripp left an hour ago, leaving me to deal with his drunk ass.
Jake follows as I walk closer and by the time I get to Wilder, he’s face down on the mat.
All the girls he was hanging out with scream his name. Meanwhile, I walk into the makeshift arena and try to pull him up by the back of his shirt.
“Can you stand?” I ask. “Or do I need to carry your ass outta here?”
“Nah, I’m t-totally fine,” he stutters, crawling until he gets to his feet. “Did I make it?”
“Almost.” I snort, glancing at the clock showing five seconds on it.
“Dammit. Next time.” He smirks.
The next rider is already pushing through to take his turn, so I drag Wilder out of the way.
“Time to pay the tab and call it a night,” I tell him, moving toward the bar.
“What? But they’re open for another hour.”
Jake wraps his arm around Wilder’s waist, helping me keep him up. “’Sup, man?”
“Who’re you?”
I shake my head. He’s known Jake as long as I have.
“Teddy,” Jake responds instead of his actual name, and I suppress a laugh. It’s an ongoing joke that every time Wilder’s too drunk to remember him, he gives him a different fake name each time.
“Teddy? Okay, cool. Wanna take a shot before we go?”
God, he’s relentless.
“Maybe next time, okay? I gotta go home soon,” Jake responds.
I glance at him, silently thanking him for his help.
Once the bartender tells me how much is on the tab, I hold out my hand for Wilder’s card. Lord knows how many chicks he bought for tonight, and I’m not paying his three-hundred-and-forty-dollar bill.
I add a hefty tip on his behalf, sign it, and thank her again—mostly for putting up with his shenanigans. He relentlessly flirts with her even though she turns him down each time he tries asking her out.
“Sure you don’t wanna meet at my house after your shift?” He leans against the bar, wagging his brows at her.
“Hmm…as temptin’ as that sounds,truly…not sure my girlfriend would appreciate that.”
“Why not? She can join. The more the merrier…” He flashes his tongue piercing. “I’ve got a wicked tongue trick.”
“Alright…” I drawl, cuffing the back of his shirt again. “Time to go, Casanova.”
I give Rainy an apologetic look before the three of us make our way toward the exit.
“Is Teddy comin’ over so I can kick both of your asses in Fortnite?” Wilder asks, climbing into the passenger side of my truck.
“Can I take a rain check? I gotta work in the mornin’…or rather”—Jake checks the time on his phone—“in a few hours.”
“As do we,” I remind Wilder.
