Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
The only available parking spot I can find is two streets over from the bar. When I come to the brick building with its large tinted front window and neon yellow sign above the door, the bouncer tips his chin at me. “Are you here to deal with your dickhead player?” I still have a hard time dealing with the small town everyone knows everyone thing happening in Silver Spoon Falls.
I nod my head yes and walk past him into the dimly lit bar. This is the last place I want to be tonight, but I can’t let one of my star players end up in jail or worse right now.
I take two steps past the large modern bar and see my friend making an ass of himself. I wave at a few familiar people and walk over to Jensen as he sits on the last bar stool, angrily gesturing to the bartender. When I walk up and place my hand on his shoulder, my friend turns around and swings for me. Fucker. Since I’m sober and he isn’t, I manage to duck before his fist connects with my face.
“What the fuck is up with you?” I growl, staring into his bloodshot eyes. Fuck. From his wrinkled white dress shirt down to his jeans, my usually impeccably dressed friend looks like shit.
“That’s none of your goddamn business. Go home and worry about your woman and leave me the fuck alone.”
The muscle-bound bouncer from the front door walks up behind me. “Told you he was being a fucking menace.”
“Can you help me get him out of here?” Jensen and I are both around six-foot-five, but he has at least fifty pounds on me.
“It’s a good thing Razor pays me so well.” The burly asshole walks over to the other side of Jensen. He glares at my drunk friend and growls, “If you swing at me again, I’ll knock you on your fucking ass.”
I groan to myself when Jensen flips him off and attempts to stand up, only to sway on his feet. “Come on.” I take one of his arms while the bouncer grabs the other one. “It’s time to get you home before you get into trouble.”
“Whatever.” The fight drains out of my friend right before my eyes, and he allows us to help him out the front door. We’re both sweating by the time we drag the heavy motherfucker up two blocks to my car.
“You could’ve parked closer,” the bouncer complains as we turn the corner.
“There are no parks any closer.” I juggle my friend’s arm with one hand and reach in my pocket for my car keys with the other.
“You fucking owe me,” I tell Jensen as I open the passenger door and step back for the bouncer to give him a shove.
“Good riddance,” the bouncer tells Jensen before slamming the door in his face.
Jensen bangs on the window and yells through the glass, “Fuck off, you ugly motherfucker.” My friend just won’t give up. It’s like the dumbass wants to get his ass kicked. “The bar sucks.”
“Then don’t come back, asshole,” the bouncer yells back through the window before turning to me. “Make sure he doesn’t show his face around here for a few nights.”
“I’ll try.”
My friend passes out halfway to his house, and I appreciate the silence filling the SUV after listening to him bitch for fifteen minutes straight. Of course, the asshole lives in the middle of fucking nowhere, and I end up driving five miles out of my way when I pass up his road the first time by. I pull in front of the two-story log cabin and wonder how the fuck I’m going to get the big asshole inside. Goddamn it. I should’ve let Dillon lock his drunk ass up overnight.
I open the passenger door and give Jensen a shake. “Wake up, dickhead.”
He grumbles something unintelligible and goes right back to snoring.
I rub the back of my neck, attempting to ease the headache crawling up my spine, and hop out of my truck, hoping the asshole has a key hidden somewhere so I don’t have to go digging through the drunk bastard’s pockets.
Fortune finally smiles down on me, and I find a spare key under the front mat. Hopefully, my good luck holds out until I get the asshole into his house.
It takes three tries, but I manage to drag his dead-weight ass up the front steps and into the living room. I shove him back on the sofa and pull a cover over him. Before I head out, I write the asshole a quick note, reminding him that a hangover isn’t a reason to miss practice.
It’s a little disconcerting to return to Gray’s home without him. “I’ll look around to make sure everything is okay.” Dillon follows me inside and strolls through the house, looking around.