Ch. 58 - Bachelor Party - Continued

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***** Brad's Point of View *****

"Just my shirt. Everything else stays on," Keaton said, slipping his shirt off. Keaton looked over and noticed Brad watching. "I'm sure my mate Brad here would love someone to do it to him too," Keaton said, taking a sip of his beer and pushing Brad towards the girl's friend.

"Hey handsome. Can I paint on your chest?" the pretty brunette girl asked Brad.

He was already feeling the effects of the shots he took because he never drank. His head was spinning and he tried to focus on her.

"C'mon Brad. Live a little for once!" Keaton said loudly, patting him on the back. "Life is too short to always be so uptight!"

"Fine," Brad said, with a frustrated exhale. "Why the hell not! Go for it," he sighed, lifting his shirt up and off, revealing his six pack and firm chest.

The girl's eyes widened and she said, "Wow. You and your friend are both in such great shape," as she started painting on him.

"Thanks," he muttered. "But he's not my friend," he added under his breath, soft enough that she didn't hear it over the loud music. 

He had been trying to get close to Keaton to earn his trust so he could get close to Everly. He was slowly trying to win her back, but apparently he was going too slow because tomorrow was her freakin' wedding.

"How did you get in such great shape?" the girl asked him, breaking him out of his thoughts.. 

"Working out," he said, turning his head and rolling his eyes because it should've been obvious,  taking a sip of his drink. He really didn't feel like talking to this girl.

With the amount of hours he worked out, ran and played baseball every day there was no way he couldn't be in shape. The frustrating part was that Keaton was just as buff as him and he didn't work out half as much and didn't even eat healthy. He really couldn't stand that guy. He always seemed to get things handed to him that he didn't deserve, like Everly. Brad was the one that put years of work in with her and then Keaton swoops in and the next thing you know, they're engaged. 

The girl in front of Brad got out the blacklight paint and started painting his chest, arms and face. It was kind of awkward having a total stranger so close up painting his face.

She looked at him for a second and her eyebrows narrowed, studying him. "Wait a minute. I think I know you," she said, then her eyes shot open. "Oh my gosh! You're Brad Lancaster!" she shouted loudly and gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "Oh my gosh! I'm a huge fan. I can't believe I'm literally painting your body right now!" she squealed.

Brad's face flushed red and he was suddenly embarrassed. If pictures of him shirtless covered in glow paint on a party bus full of half-naked girls and rowdy, drunk guys got leaked to the tabloids it would be a huge scandal and could affect his chances of getting signed by an MLB team. Teams don't like to sign guys that don't keep their noses clean because that could make them look bad. He reached over and grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on and decided not to drink anymore tonight. His fun night had lasted all of twenty minutes.

"Can I have your autograph?" the girl asked excitedly.

"Sure," he said, signing a piece of paper and handing it to her.

From then on, when Keaton's friends would pass Brad a shot, he'd hold it in his mouth and then spit it into the can he was pretending to use as chaser. Keaton however was drinking the shots for real and his friends had talked him into having several before he finally said he needed to slow down a bit.

They pulled up outside of a strip club and Henry shouted, "Time for old Keaton to get a lap dance for the last time!"

"No," Keaton laughed, shaking his head. "I'll go in with you guys but the only woman allowed to give me a lap dance is Everly."

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