Page 2 of The Cowboy's Friendly Wake-Up Call

It's been a rough ass fucking day, and I'm going to need a refill if I'm going to do this.

Mercy laughing at me loud enough that everybody in the joint turns to look at us isn't helping, either.

At least she put some distance between us, gives me a chance to think about something other than those tits of hers and how bad I wish I could wrap my hands around them while I showed her all the ways I could make her feel good.

"You didn't go to prom," she reminds me, completely oblivious to the way the memory makes me grit my teeth. "What? Now you wanna make up for lost time?"

Mercy Jean turns around to wipe down the chrome taps, giving me a view of her ass, round and full and covered in denim that hugs her curves from the waist down every bit as well as her low-cut t-shirt hugs her from the waist up.

She's got no idea what she does to me.

And I plan to keep it that way.

"The guys are making me rep for us at the expo this year," I explain, pushing my empty mug to the other side of the bar top in a silent request to get it refilled.

At least Mercy stops laughing.

"You don't want to go?"

She seems genuinely perplexed.

I pull from the new beer and pretend my eyes aren't tracking her every movement as she closes out the tab for the last customers left in here. She pockets her tips and follows them out so she can lock the doors after them.

Tapped Out closes early compared to the bars.

She shuts down the open sign in the front window and I go right on pretending that my eyes aren't glued to every bounce and shimmy of her movements as she walks to the back doors and locks them up too, after checking the back garden to make sure it's cleared out. Or at least, that anyone left out there has already closed out their tab.

My dick doesn't bother pretending though, it's happy to make a statement that would give away my biggest secret...and ruin my friendship with Mercy for sure.

So I do what I've been doing for fifteen long years now-- I pretend I'm only watching Mercy's curvy figure move around the empty tap house as she closes down out of idle interest, and I ignore the hard-on that I've gotten damn good at hiding behind the untucked flannel work shirt I make sure to always be wearing when I'm around my best bud.

"Hell no, I don't want to go," I answer. "The guys are all coupled up now, one of them should go. They all got built in dates."

"Take your mom."

"She can't go." I rake my hand through my hair again. It's a nervous habit I've had since I was a kid, and Mercy doesn't hesitate to reach over and set right what I've messed up.

Her touch does nothing to bed down the desire that sparks up in my blood every time we're alone like this.

"She says she's got 'important stuff' she has to get done that weekend, but she wouldn't tell me what."

"Hmm, maybe she's not ready yet. She went with your dad every year, didn't she?"

The idea that ma turned me down because she's not ready to go without dad hadn't really crossed my mind. It'd just seemed suspicious to me that she was making excuses to get out of going. Now I feel shitty for being mad about it.

I turn all those thoughts into a single grunt and take another pull off the cold draft beer that's starting to do its job.

I don't need to get drunk, just need enough alcohol in my system to get through this next part.

"She said I should ask you."

Mercy's not going to go to this thing with me. She's been my best friend on earth since we were in grade school together. I've known she was my soul mate since we were twelve. She's been the only woman I can even think about being with since we were fourteen, but she's as tomboy as they make 'em.

I've never seen her in a dress or with make up on in my life, and this thing is black tie only.

"Love to, when is it?"

Her quick reply surprises me and for a second, I think the beer must have hit me harder than I'm feeling.

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