It had been a month since going to the range had led to Greg's relief. I hadn't talked to him directly since, and he left me alone during that time. I was still pissed off that he had cheated at our normally friendly wager, and then used that to get his sexual satisfaction. I was on the fence about the experience itself though. Even though what happened was not on my list of 'things to do', my final reaction to it led me to believe that I enjoyed it and may enjoy it again some day. I was reluctant to talk with Greg again since then, as I wasn't sure how things would be between us.
A text popped up on my phone from Greg. It simply read, "Range day tomorrow! You up for it?"
It looked like nothing had really changed for Greg, but I was still unsure. I didn't reply for a couple hours as I wrestled with the decision. Finally I text back in agreement. I slept like crap and woke up tired. I could have canceled, but I had already committed to it, so off I went. My Harley rumbled as I pulled up into Greg's driveway. His garage door opened and he motioned me to pull inside. Once parked, I dismounted and wondered what was going on.
"Why don't we take my truck." Greg said. "It looks like a good chance of storms this morning."
As a rider I generally follow the weather forecast pretty closely. If I'm wrong or I miss something, I get soaked. Getting rained on is part of riding a motorcycle, but people drive stupid, and it only gets worse in bad weather. We loaded up his truck and headed out to our normal shooting range. It was a quick trip, which was fine for me since Greg was the one driving. He finally broke the silence on the subject I dreaded bringing up.
"Listen Brad, we're still friends right? I'm sorry about cheating last time, but I needed it. And sex is just sex. You got off too as I recall. I just don't want things to be weird."
"We're still friends, but I'm still not happy about you cheating last time. Everything else we're gonna forget about, got it?" I answered.
"So...same bet as last time?" Greg asked as we started across the parking lot.
I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at him. "You're kidding, right?"
"Come on, that was funny. We both know you're a better shot, and after all the dinners I've paid for, the least you could do is say that you'll put out if I won."
I laughed at that. Greg was right, I am a better shot. I had never had to pay the bet off, except for when he cheated. I looked at him suspiciously. Seeing that look, he raised his hand and placed the other over his heart.
"I swear Brad, I won't shoot any more holes in your targets. Cross my heart. Does that make you feel better?"
"Alright, you're on. I see a big, juicy, prime rib in my future." I said. "Wait until you see the bill. You're gonna wish you had played it straight last time."
Once inside we were assigned our lanes, right next to each other as usual. As we were about to go onto the range I realized I didn't have any eye or ear protection. I guess I was flustered when packing and forgot to bring them. I motioned to Greg to go ahead while I borrowed some from the office. Once I was properly protected, I joined Greg on the range. After a couple of magazines to warm up we put fresh targets up for the bet.
"You go first." I said in a raised voice so Greg could hear me through the earmuffs. "I want to make sure you don't cheat!"
"My word isn't good enough?" Greg shouted back. "I told you I wouldn't shoot your targets."
I motioned for him to go first as I stood back away from the line. The range was full, so the constant sounds of gunfire kept the range loud. I watched as Greg shot the standard qualification course, and while he didn't do bad, I knew I was better. I made sure his gun was unloaded with the slide locked back and then I motioned for him to back away from the line.
He laughed and backed away, knowing I wouldn't shoot until I was sure he couldn't pull a repeat of our last bet. I shot the same course, and when I was finished I cleared my weapon and pressed the button to retrieve my target. Greg stepped up to retrieve his as well.
"Well, would you look at that?" Greg said as he laughed while comparing our targets.
I couldn't believe it. I lost...again. I had three shots way off, while the other 47 were all in the 10 and 9 rings. I packed up and headed out across the parking lot like a zombie, wondering what had just happened. Greg didn't say a word, just followed me to his truck and he drove us back to his house. Once we got inside, Greg finally broke the silence.