“How about what?” I ask. I stopped listening when I realized that he might know I want to have sex outdoors, or that I’ve never had life-changing sex.
“Line dancing! I found a bar that has line dancing nights on Thursday, did you want to go?” he asks with excitement in his voice. Oh my God, this complete stranger found a line dancing bar for my Bucket List. Okay it doesn’t sound completely unselfish on his part, but still. I mean my husband forgot my birthday two years in a row and got me a gift card on the last Christmas we were together, but JJ, a stranger, found a line dancing bar. Not for his girlfriend, not for his sister, but for me. A stranger.
“So? What do you say?” he asks again.
“Yes, that would be great! Levi was just telling me I needed to get some things crossed off my list,” I agree, still a little lost in thoughts.
“Yay! I have the perfect pair of boots I never get to wear!” Ellie says excitedly.
“Perfect, you girls can all get ready at JJ’s while I take advantage of his pool,” Levi adds, throwing a wink at JJ.
Laughing, JJ says, “Sounds great, I’ll invite a few of the boys to join us.”
Chapter 7
Stepping out of the shower after a workout in my home gym, I see my phone flashing with a new text message. Picking it up, I see that during my shower I missed over thirty messages in theFriends With Some Benefitschat I have with Levi, JJ, Stevi, Donno, Packer, Toby, and Chase. They’re almost as bad as seventy-year-old women living in a retirement village; once they start gabbing it never stops.
Making my way from my ensuite to sit on the corner of my bed, I start scanning through the group chat. I see it’s JJ that started the entire onslaught of text messages that’s still going on.
He wants us to go out to The Ranch tonight for line dancing night. What the hell? Must be Ellie or Lacey dragging him out. Those two have him wrapped around their little fingers. And yes, there it is:
JJ:
The girls thought it would be fun to go line dancing, I’ve been here 6 years and have never been, so I thought I’d accompany them.
Laughing, I towel my hair, grab some boxers, and make my way to the kitchen to make a protein shake, and to feed Hagrid. Getting to the kitchen, I see she’s already sitting on the counter by her food bowl, giving me her famousyou’re-late-againlook.
“You’re just like Sadie, ‘Grid. Such an attitude for ten pounds of black fur.” Blinking her one eye at me, she paws her bowl telling me to hurry up. “Seriously, girl? You should be nicer, not many people rescue black cats, and even fewer people feed them on the counter so they can watch the birds as they enjoy three, overpriced, fresh meals a day,” I say scratching her behind the ears before opening the fridge to grab her lunch.
Once she’s happily munching away at her food, I grab my favorite shaker cup, a light green cup with a hot pink lid, complete with a hockey player on one side and a horse on the other; Sadie had it made for my birthday last year. I throw some protein powder in it, along with some chocolate milk, feeling too lazy to make an actual smoothie.
Once I’m done and my cup is rinsed and drying in the sink, I grab Hagrid and bring her to the couch where she lays on my legs begging for attention as if she doesn’t get enough on a regular basis. Shaking my head at myself as I indulge my cat, my phone starts ringing. Grabbing it, I see it’s Stevi calling.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” I ask, as I answer the phone.
“Not much, Kitty—I saw you agreed to go line dancing tonight, want . . .”
Before he can finish I roll my eyes and say, “That nickname is never gonna get old is it?”
“Hey, you’re the one who got a cat,” he says, laughing. “If you didn’t want to be called Kitty you should have adopted a dog.”
“A cat is easier since I’m gone a lot. Anyways, jackass, why did you call? I doubt it was to gab like a retired grandma.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist my sweet Kitty. Anyway, line dancing?”
“Yeah, I saw the girls roped JJ into taking them out. Why?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to carpool? Since we have the rink tomorrow morning, I can’t see myself drinking much.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I answer, thinking he’s right. Some of us guys go to the rink every Friday morning during the off-season to scrimmage and to work on certain skills, so nobody is going to be drinking much tonight.
“Perfect, I’ll pick you up around nine.”
“See you then,” I say, hanging up.
A few hours later, after a nap and moreBig Bang Theoryepisodes than I’d care to admit to, I’m walking into what can only be described as a cowboy’s wet dream. The place is packed with women dressed in cowboy boots and short shorts.
Looking around, I notice a bar takes up the entire back wall, with bar tables lining the perimeter of a large dancefloor, where a few dozen people are line dancing to a Brooks and Dunn song.
