A Wild Ride Read Free

a few seconds, letting the heat wash out. Then Jacky got in and started the engine. Ryan got in as well, and they pulled out of the lot, almost getting hit by a dually truck tearing out ahead of them. Jacky slammed on the brakes and Ryan flew forward, the seat belt catching him. “Asshole!” Jacky cried. “You had the whole damned parking lot.” Jacky flipped the bird as the other vehicle sped past without even slowing. “Did you see that guy?”
    “Yeah,” Ryan said, getting his heart back where it belonged as Jacky got the truck moving again. “Where are you taking me?” He knew he had to change the subject or Jacky would rant about the guy in the truck until they got where they were going.
    “A bar just outside town—they have great food and music,” Jacky said, turning on the radio so country music could fill the cab.
    “Let me guess: there’s more than food at this place.”
    “It’s where the bull riders hang out,” Jacky said.
    Ryan had, of course, already figured they were going to a place like that. Where else would Jacky take him than a rodeo bar? The man lived, ate, and breathed cowboys. For as long as Ryan had known him, Jacky had almost exclusively worn western shirts, cowboy hats, and boots, and on more than one occasion, chaps, although Ryan was pretty sure that when Jacky wore those, there wasn’t much, if anything, on beneath them.
    “It’ll be fun, and who knows, you may catch the eye of one of those guys.”
    Ryan nearly snorted, but kept his protests to himself. He was hardly the kind of guy they were going to go for, even if they were gay. And if they were, he wasn’t about to be the plaything of some guy so deeply in the closet he only came out when his dick was about to explode and his balls turned blue.
    “Come on. You’re gorgeous and you know it,” Jacky said. “I’d give anything to be tall, have your perma-tan, and that long, black hair. God.” Jacky shook his head. “You turn heads everywhere you go and you have no idea you’re doing it.”
    “Yeah, but guys talk to you,” Ryan protested.
    “Only because I talk to them first, and if I didn’t, not one of them would look at me. You, however, are the first person anyone notices when they enter a room. Don’t take my word for it, just watch at the bar. Men and women will notice you.”
    “But no one ever talks to me,” Ryan said.
    “It’s the beauty curse. Everyone thinks you’re already attached or they’re not up to your standards, so they stay away.” Jacky exited the freeway. “So tonight, talk to someone who seems interested and see what happens. I bet you’ll find you’re the belle of the ball.”
    “Or get my ass kicked by some homophobic prick,” Ryan countered. He’d never been good at picking people out of a mixed crowd. Jacky, on the other hand, had gaydar off the charts, and he could pick out another gay man at a hundred yards.
    “Don’t worry, I won’t steer you wrong,” Jacky promised as they pulled into the parking lot of an old bar with definite rustic charm. The whole place looked like something out of an old movie. The place hadn’t been updated in quite a while, and Ryan instantly saw the charm in the old, scarred wood that covered the walls. Country music played throughout the building. Toward the back was a dance floor, and behind that a pair of pool tables.
    “This is great,” Ryan said as he turned toward Jacky. They found a table, and Jacky hurried off to get beer while Ryan listened to the music, his body swaying almost without him knowing. Jacky returned and set the glasses down before sliding into the opposite chair. “The only sad thing,” Ryan began as he reached for his beer, “is that we can’t dance here.”
    “I know,” Jacky said as he lifted his mug. They clinked them together, and Jacky looked around the room. “You could dance with a girl, you know.” Jacky looked serious for about two seconds, and then Ryan shivered and Jacky snickered. The last time