7. Seven
Seven
Jake
T his is a bad idea. I try to hide my apprehension as I stare down at the row of shot glasses decorating the bar top.
The Stampede Saloon is packed tonight. The whole town seems to be crammed into the building, so ordering these drinks was a challenge.
Eyeing the variety of hard liquors now, I kind of wish they’d made us wait a little longer.
I could’ve used the extra time to mentally prepare.
I haven’t knocked back drinks for the sole purpose of getting shit-faced in years, and I already know I’ll regret this come morning.
I tilt my head and squint, praying my eyes are playing tricks on me in the dim lighting.
Nope, that’s a small brain floating in one of my glasses.
“You know this is a terrible idea, right? ”
I make a face at what I can only hope to be a mass of curdled Irish Cream.
I’m a beer guy. I rarely touch the hard stuff anymore.
Given my past issues, I always thought it best to stick to a two-drink minimum.
I’m not too worried about the booze. Alcohol has never really been my problem.
It does cause me to lower my guard, however, and up until a couple of years ago, I didn’t trust myself enough to give up that control.
These days, I’m pretty confident in my ability to let loose and not wind up nose-deep in a bag of coke.
Besides, I’m surrounded by people I can count on to keep me out of trouble.
Carter and Megan have watched me go down that rabbit hole before.
There’s no way they’d let me fall off the wagon on their watch, so I’m not concerned.
Once Megan finished laying out the terms, Tessa and I separated from the enemy and went in search of sustenance to prepare for tonight’s foolish shenanigans.
I’d devoured a cheeseburger with fries, a couple of Reuben sandwiches, and chugged a big glass of milk to coat my stomach lining.
I’m as prepared as I can be to whoop my best friend’s ass, and I’ll be damned if I lose to a guy who goes to bed by nine and drinks kale smoothies for breakfast.
The girls ordered the first round for us, and Megan—never one to shy away from a challenge—chose violence.
At least two out of the three shots meant for me contain J?germeister, a liquor she knows damn well I can’t stand, which is something that conniving little minx is counting on.
Tessa retaliated by ordering Carter three shots of Jameson, well aware he’s not a whiskey drinker and always gags excessively whenever he gives into peer pressure.
“There’s still time to back out, Nelson!
I promise not to tease you too much if you forfeit now.
” Carter’s smug expression says one thing, but his eyes are begging me to put a stop to this madness before someone gets hurt.
Here’s the thing. Between the two of us, I’ve never been the responsible one and that’s not about to change tonight.
He made his bed when he succumbed to his wife’s need to one-up me. Now he can fucking lie in it.
“Think blowjobs, baby. Lots and lots of blowjobs,” the devil on his shoulder coos into his ear, making me want to throw up for an entirely different reason.
“And if that’s not motivation enough, picture eating tofu for a week straight because that’s what’s on the menu if you screw this up.
” Savage . I can practically see the fear in his eyes as an expression of sheer determination takes over his features. Damn her and her dirty tactics.
I make a last-ditch effort of my own when I say, “Same goes for you. If you back out now, I promise I’ll only make you file six months’ worth of paperwork.
You know what? I’ll do you one better. I’ll even buy pizza and beer, and we can make a night of it.
” Carter’s uncertain gaze flickers between the amber liquid and his wife for a few beats.
When Megan’s brows rise all the way to her hairline, he closes his eyes and blows out a heavy breath.
I watch in horror as his hand reaches for the first glass and he brings it to his lips, tipping his head back and swallowing its contents in a single gulp.
Fuck me. Here we fucking go. Steeling myself, I hold my breath and quickly toss back the two J?ger shots.
I force down a gag and reach for the brain chaser next, hoping whatever concoction it contains will get rid of the overpowering taste of licorice before it has time to settle on my tongue.
It works, but the texture is so vile I almost spit it back into the glass.
Honestly? Who drinks shit like that voluntarily?
I slap the empty glass onto the counter and focus on my breathing as the alcohol burns a path down my throat and settles in the pit of my stomach.
Carter doesn’t seem to fare much better, and I watch in satisfaction as his whole body convulses with violent shudders.
I wave the bartender over and order a couple of beers to wash down the lingering aftertaste, while simultaneously ringing in the second phase of the challenge.
I lift the neck and drain about half, quirking an eyebrow at Carter and daring him to keep up.
Megan and Tessa haven’t stopped smiling at each other since we got here, giddy at the prospect of two grown men getting plastered and embarrassing themselves.
Seeing as I’m a lightweight these days, I’d say the chances of that happening are pretty damn good.
But I have a plan. I’ve given my body a good base with the greasy meal I devoured before coming here.
I’ll pace myself, hydrate with lots of water in between rounds, and hope to God Carter will go down fast. We finish our beers, and he doesn’t waste time ordering two more before we move to the stage area to check out the band.
I’m not sure who’s playing tonight, but I was told the band is local, so I’ve probably seen them before.
When we step into the connecting room and I find my buddy Chase center stage, I’m pleasantly surprised.
Chase and I remain close to this day and still jam together often.
His band mostly plays covers with the occasional original sprinkled into the setlist and has been a town favorite for years.
They’re damn good but would most likely never make it big.
Chase strums his acoustic guitar effortlessly as he plays a beautiful rendition of Neil Diamond’s ‘Solitary Man.’ We make our way to the front, and I raise my drink in greeting.
He jerks his chin in acknowledgment, and we watch them wield their magic for a while.
When Megan and Carter start slow-dancing, Tessa and I slide into a booth that just opened up, where I’m currently nursing beer number three.
“You know you’re going to feel like death in the morning, right?”
I shrug, popping a couple of complimentary peanuts into my mouth, not bothering to swallow them down before I reply.
“I’ve survived worse,” I say and inwardly cringe when I notice the shadows flicker in her golden eyes.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Pretty sure Carter will tap out before things have a chance to get too crazy.
He doesn’t get out much, and his tolerance is shit. ”
Tessa lifts a shoulder like she’s done her due diligence in issuing the warning before she turns her head and watches our mutual friends sway to the music. The place is hopping, the noise level almost deafening, and I have to raise my voice to be heard.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Are you kidding?” she says with a grin that lights up her entire face. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. I’ve missed this. Us. Hanging out with people who truly know me, you know? It’s not like this in LA.”
“Tired of city life?” I ask, casually slinging an arm over the back of the bench seat. I look out over the dance floor and take a swig of beer to hide that I’m chomping at the bit to hear her answer.
“I love living in the city, but it’s a different life.
Los Angeles is…” My eyes snap to hers. “How can I explain this?” she muses while she sips her Pina Colada.
“Life is superficial. No one really bothers to get to know the real you. You could just up and disappear, and no one would truly care. There are a thousand people like you, ready to take your place. Caleb went on a two-week vacation once, and I ended up with chest pains one night. I was genuinely concerned I may be having a heart attack, and I asked myself how lo ng it’d take for someone to find me if I didn’t make it.
It turns out it was just a bad case of indigestion from the giant cheesy pizza I’d demolished while watching Dirty Dancing for the millionth time.
” She’s laughing, but something in the way she said it makes me think the experience was less amusing than she makes it out to be.
“There’s this revolving door of people flitting in and out of your life every day, but no one really wants to slow down long enough to discover what you’re really about. Does that make any sense?”
“Makes perfect sense to me,” I tell her, truly seeing her for the first time since she got back.
She’s just a lost girl with a ton of regrets, trying to make things right so she can find her place in the world.
I might’ve had my own hardships growing up, but I’ve always known where I belong. Maybe that makes me the lucky one.