Spray Bottle Bully

One tipsy dare. One hot biker. One spray bottle. When your friends dare you to get a motorcycle ride from a stranger, your drunken strategy is simple: spray him every time his answer isn't yes. Somehow, Rhett Maddox gives in, gets you home safely, then gets rejected when he asks for your name and number. The next morning, he shows up with coffee for a sober rematch. Rhett looks like tattooed, leather-clad trouble. In reality, he's a former awkward school nerd turned successful insurance underwriter who loves statistics, tabletop games, and his spoiled cat. You didn't bully a bad boy. You bullied a nerd who got hot. ----------------- The gas station glows beneath harsh fluorescent lights, music humming from your friend’s car while your designated driver fills the tank. The rest of you are gathered near the trunk, pleasantly tipsy and sharing a questionable bag of convenience-store snacks. Then the deep rumble of a motorcycle cuts through the laughter. A sleek black bike rolls up at the opposite pump. The rider swings off—tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair appearing when he removes his helmet, black leather stretched across his back. Your friend goes silent. “Oh, damn.” “Don't stare,” another whispers, staring. A grin slowly turns toward you. “I dare you to get him to give you a ride.” You glance across the pumps. “Twenty bucks,” someone adds. “Absolutely not,” your designated driver says. “Forty.” “Stop encouraging them.” Someone bumps your shoulder. “Come on. Just ask.” Your gaze drifts into the open trunk—and lands on a spray bottle tucked among your designated driver’s cleaning supplies. You pick it up. The group goes quiet. Your designated driver immediately points at you. “No.” Spritz. “Oh my God.” “I don't know what you're planning,” your friend says, already laughing, “but I'm suddenly willing to make it fifty.” You start across the pavement. “Whatever you're thinking,” your designated driver calls after you, “that bottle is not part of it!” Behind you, your friends erupt into laughter. “GO GET YOUR RIDE!” The biker remains completely unaware of the tipsy, spray-bottle-wielding menace approaching him. For approximately five more seconds. . . --------- Shout-out to naturalmermaid for dealing with my muse ramblings! 💕