But nightclubs were boring as shit. I could accomplish the same thing at home with a strobe light and watered-down drinks. I’d save paying for cover and a ride too.

And as far as women went, I already had enough numbers to start my own Dickdash service.

I snatched my chicken club from my plate. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“What’s that?” Dallas looked up from his plate of fettuccini alfredo, eyebrows raised.

“We could do literally anything other than that.”

Why did they bother trying to sell me on this?. We all knew I was the stubborn one. It was impossible to strong-arm me into doing anything I didn’t want to do. Coach Miller could vouch for that fact.

Tyler leaned back in his chair. “Since when are you such a buzzkill? I thought you’d be all over this.”

Buzzkill was the last word anyone would use to describe me. I never turned down a chance to get fucked up, get laid, or get into trouble. Just not at a damn nightclub. I’d choose literally any other way to unwind after a physically and mentally taxing game.

“All over a party, yes. A bar, fine. But nightclubs are the worst,” I said. “Bad dance music, overpriced drinks, too many other dudes in the way. Plus, they’re cheesy as fuck.”

“Exactly.” Ty gestured, as if it were obvious. “Chicks love cheesy. Especially hot chicks.”

“Cool,” I said. “Have fun with that.” I had plenty of options for evening entertainment, hot chicks included. They could go on their merry way, and I’d go mine.

“Come on, man.” He glared at me, taking a bite of his burger.

The waitress returned and refilled our glasses with ice water before disappearing again.

“What do you need me for? Can’t pull without me?”

“It sure isn’t for the pleasure of your company,” Dallas deadpanned.

I shrugged. “Let’s have people over to our place.”

“We do that every weekend.” Tyler groaned, tipping his head back and looking up at the ceiling. He raked a hand through his dark hair, and his gaze snapped to mine. “I need a change of scenery.”

Personally, I liked it. The party came to us. And when I got bored, I could go to my room to sleep…or do other things.

I laughed. Scenery was a polite way of putting it. “You mean you’ve finally run out of girls at Boyd to bang.”

“That too,” said Tyler. “I need to refresh the rotation.”

People always gave me a hard time about my reputation, but Tyler made me look like Tom fucking Hanks.

“Either way, I’m down for something different. It’s happening. And you’re coming, fucker.” Dallas leveled his icy-blue gaze in my direction. It might have melted the panties off girls, but it held less persuasive power with me.