Shelly and Lane and Open
Lane only shrugged at her, but grinned all the same. “Cool.” Bruises were super cool if you were into that. Now that she was standing and he was sure she wouldn’t just topple over, he let her go. “You need another drink or what? Water or something.” Probably more water and less whatever had been in that glass before.
At the challenge though, his eyebrows peaked. “Me? On that thing?” Lane motioned from himself, to the bull, and back. He scoffed. “Yeah right. I’d break that thing.” He smoothed out the lapel of the jacket he wore, straightening the striped teeshirt underneath. He’d gone for something nicer than the motorcycle jacket and jeans for once and had no regrets. The sleeves of his jacket were tugged up to his forearms. He set his hands into his pockets.