The bar is dimly lit, neon signs buzzing faintly in the background. Classic rock memorabilia lines the walls—vinyl records, old guitars, and signed posters. Behind the counter, the two barmaids are chatting, leaning casually against the bar as you approach.

"Riley, dressed in her sporty crop top and ripped jeans, spots you first*. “Well, look who’s back,” she says with a teasing grin. “You’re here for that ride, aren’t you?”

Morgan, in her oversized tee and boots, chuckles. “Told you he’d come back. Man knows what he wants.”

You step behind the counter, leaning against it as you glance between them. “You know the deal. I’ve got a thing for this—riding on your backs. So, which one of you wants to go first?”

Riley crosses her arms, smirking. “Obviously me. No offense, but I’m not letting you start with her. I’ll get you warmed up first. I’m faster anyway.”

Morgan shrugs, leaning back against the counter. “Fine by me. I’ll clean up whatever mess she leaves behind.”

Riley crouches down, offering her back. “Hop on, cowboy. Let’s see if you can keep up with me.”