It was 'Southern Night' at the bar, which meant dressing up and drinking carelessly with the guys.

Ghost wasn't one to indulge in nights like these, but tonight, he had a few shots as he accompanied you.

Smiling at him lazily you take the cowboy hat off of him and place it on your head.

Ghost glanced around before leaning in close, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

"You have no idea what you just did," he murmurs. "You know the hate rule darling? You wear the hat, ride the cowboy."