Seven Sunny
Saturday, the perfect day for some reckless fun and questionable decisions. Paisley and I are in our room, doing the sacred ritual of finding outfits that scream cute but approachable. I pull out my light blue jeans—the ones that make my butt look phenomenal—and pair them with a baby pink tank top. Obviously, I’m going with the lucky heels because, mama needs some luck!
Paisley’s floating around in a yellow dress that makes her look like sunshine in human form. I mean, the girl is glowing. As we click-clack our way downstairs in our heels, it feels like we’re on the set of some summer chick flick. Minus the dramatic slow-mo hair flip. Though, let’s be real, give me a couple of drinks and I’ll be trying that.
“Do I look too casual?”
I ask, spinning for Paisley’s approval.
She gives me an exaggerated once-over. “Sunny, your ass in those jeans is going to make these cowboys forget how to spell their own names. You’re perfect.”
I laugh but tuck her compliment in my pocket for later.
As we head out, I spot Levi perched on the porch, he’s holding one of those ridiculous whipped cream-topped coffee monstrosities.
Because of course he is.
Our eyes lock, and for a second, I feel like someone hit the slow-mo button on my life. It’s one of those “universe is trying to tell you something”
moments, complete with neon sparks flashing between us.
His gaze is so intense I almost trip over my heels getting into the truck. Why am I like this?
Feeling bold or maybe buzzed on excitement, I throw him a wink. He almost—almost—smiles. It’s subtle, like he’s trying to fight it off but loses the battle at the last second.
Progress.
Paisley climbs into the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of my entire emotional spiral. “Ready?”
“Ready to make bad choices in public? Always,”
I reply, firing up the engine.
The drive is all laughter and music, the perfect prelude to chaos. We pull into a little community center, where a handmade sign out front reads: Line Dancing Lessons – Beginners Welcome!
Inside, the vibe is like a honky-tonk collided with a frat party—cheerful, noisy, and just a little bit chaotic. There’s a small pop-up bar in the corner, complete with pitchers of beer and whiskey-spiked lemonade in mason jars. Naturally, Paisley grabs us two lemonades because, in her words, “Dancing is way more fun with a buzz.”
The first sip goes down smooth, and I can already feel the warm, tipsy glow starting to settle in. By the time the music kicks in and the instructor claps his hands for attention, we’re mid-giggle about how this is probably a terrible idea.
“Alright, y’all!”
the wiry cowboy running the class calls out. “We’re starting with a simple one—Boot Scootin’ Boogie. Don’t overthink it!”
Spoiler: I immediately overthink it.
Paisley and I start strong, following the claps and stomps like our lives depend on it. But two steps in, I mix up left and right and accidentally spin straight into her.
“Sunny!”
she shrieks, laughing as she almost spills her lemonade.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me this required coordination?”
I shout back, barely managing to keep my drink intact.
The music speeds up, and chaos ensues. I’m tripping over my own feet, Paisley’s howling with laughter, and every now and then, we just abandon the choreography entirely to freestyle.
“Think we’re nailing it?”
I yell over the music.
“Like pros!”
she replies, but she’s doubled over, laughing so hard she’s crying.
Between dances, we grab another round of whiskey lemonades because hydration. The drinks make everything more fun—the music feels louder, the people friendlier, and our mistakes even funnier. By the time we get to the third dance, we’re practically professional disasters, but it doesn’t matter. The whole room is having too much fun to care.
“Okay, this might be my favorite terrible idea yet,”
Paisley says as we collapse onto a bench after the last round of stomping, both of us breathless and giddy.
I clink my mason jar against hers. “Agreed. We are the queens of bad ideas.”
“Speaking of bad ideas,”
she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s go to Big Billy’s. Invite the guys. And turn this into a real party.”
Cue my immediate agreement. “Yes! Let’s keep this trainwreck going.”
I open the group chat and send a quick text.
Me: Line dancing was a disaster. Drinks at Billy’s on me?
I hit send, and within seconds, the replies come in hot
Bodhi: On my way! Wouldn’t miss out on a free drink ;)
Colton: Knox and I will be there.
Noah: Save me a seat!
Hunter: You girls better be ready to party.
And then, there it is. The message I’ve been waiting for.
Levi: See you soon.
Hmm…What happened to avoiding me, Levi?
I slip my phone into my back pocket—and we’re off, still giggling and slightly tipsy as we head to the bar.
Big Billy’s is already buzzing when we walk in. The band is blaring, the lights are dim, and the air smells like beer and cheap cologne. We snag a big table near the back and order our first round of drinks while we wait for the guys to show up.
Tonight’s shaping up to be one for the books.
***
When the guys walk in, they practically own the place. Heads turn, and not just because they’re a bunch of attractive cowboys in a bar. It’s the swagger, the easy smiles, the way they just…take up space. Bodhi spots us first, and they all make their way over, setting down around our table.
“Looks like you started without us,”
Bodhi teases, pulling me into a friendly hug. I catch Levi’s frown, it’s quick. But I caught it. HA!
“We needed a head start,” I laugh.
Levi takes the seat directly across from me, of course. He’s playing it cool, sipping his drink, but I see the flicker in his eyes every time he glances my way. Mwahaha… gotcha, Mr. Broody.
The drinks are flowing, and the conversation gets louder, more animated. We’re laughing, swapping stories, and generally having the time of our lives.
I down the last of my margarita, look at Paisley, and declare, “We’re going to ride the mechanical bull!”
Paisley looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Sunny, no. I am way too tipsy for that.”
“Exactly!”
I shout, grabbing her hand and yanking her up. “That’s the best time to do it!”
The guys follow behind, half-amused, half-curious as I kick off my heels and drag Paisley toward the mechanical bull. A crowd gathers because apparently, watching two drunk girls try to tame a bull is prime entertainment.
As I climb onto the bull, I glance over at Levi. He’s standing off to the side, arms crossed, trying to hide a smile. I give him a cheeky wink. And, for a split second, his smile breaks through. Success!
The bull starts slow, giving me time to get my bearings. I grip the rope with one hand and squeeze my thighs around the saddle like my life depends on it—which, to be fair, it kinda does right now.
“Stay on Sunny!”
Noah yells, his voice rising above the music. The guys are all cheering, their laughter mixing with the bar’s raucous energy. The bull picks up speed, and suddenly I’m spinning, bucking, and holding on for dear life.
I quickly glance over at Levi again. This time, he’s not hiding his smile at all. He looks… proud? Amused? Both? Either way, I’m winning. Maybe not the bull-riding contest, but I definitely have Levi’s attention. So, I count that as a win.
After what feels like an eternity, the bull slows and finally comes to a stop. I slide off, legs like jelly but adrenaline soaring. The crowd erupts into cheers, I stumble, a little dizzy, and take a dramatic bow, grinning like I just won an Oscar. Paisley rushes over, laughing so hard she’s clutching her sides.
“That was amazing! You looked like a pro up there! You didn’t look drunk at all.”
The guys gather around, high-fiving and ruffling my hair like I’m their little sister. Annoying boys.
Hunter is practically doubled over with laughter. “I thought you were gonna fly off for a second!”
I roll my eyes and give him a light slap on the arm, trying my hardest not to smile. He laughs even harder, clutching his stomach. “No, but seriously. How the heck did you manage to stay on…drunk?”
He laughs, looking me up and down like I’ve just pulled off a magic trick. “Sun, I’ve seen you trip over air.”
I can’t help the laugh that comes out of me. I am pretty clumsy, sometimes. But you never forget how to ride a bike, right?
I shrug, “muscle memory, I guess,”
Bodhi moves past Hunter and slumps his arm over my shoulder, a bottle of beer in the other hand, “Okay, who are you and what have you done with our sweet, quiet, Sunny!”
He throws his head back chuckling as I roll my eyes. He just loves to tease, it’s relentless.
“This is the real Sunny! Count yourself lucky that you get to meet her. Not many people do,”
Paisley adds, swaying slightly.
Levi catches my eye again, and this time, he doesn’t look away. There’s something in his gaze—pride, amusement, maybe a little admiration.
I smirk at him. His smile widens just a fraction more. Showing off those dimples I’ve missed so much.
Wait, maybe I should have some fun and give him a taste of his own medicine.
Levi who?