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7
TENLEY
Why did I think going out tonight was a good idea?
One thing is for sure: I’ve managed to indulge in something mindless.
Mission accomplished, Tenley.
Am I tipsy? It’s possible. But that was part of the plan.
I should have known August wouldn’t take no for an answer. But I never expected him to pick me and the damn chair up.
I’ve gotta say, it was impressive. But it still pissed me off.
I’ve never known August to mix drinks.
The guy is a millionaire. He’s the one who pays other people to make his drinks.
It took him carrying me over here to realize it was all a ploy to get me alone. And I took the bait. Despite how much I know I shouldn’t have.
Just one taste.
Those three words. Holy hell. I could feel them buzz across my skin.
Surely one taste won’t hurt, right? Even if it’s out of August’sselfish intention.
After ensuring I was safely situated on the bar top, he got to work on God knows what. Honestly, the man is moving so fast I couldn’t tell you what he’s mixing. He claims it’s an old-fashioned, and all I know about them is that they contain cherries.
And I love cherries.
“You a bourbon girl?” August asks, sifting the mixture in an insulated shaker.
“Don’t pretend you don’t already know that.”
“Just making conversation, Tenley.” He smirks. It’s such a cute smirk.
Lifting the lid from the shaker, he reaches for a short glass and pours the amber liquid to the brim, leaving just enough room for cherries and an orange peel.
My eyes follow his meticulous motions, and I groan at the smell of rich flavors mixed with what I know to be the smooth texture that accompanies a top-shelf bourbon. For being an inexperienced bartender, August maneuvers his way through the steps confidently. Enough to have me questioning why he needs my opinion. “You don’t look like you need my help at all.”
He turns toward me and smiles. “Oh, but I do, Mama.” Leisure steps transport him in front of me, full glass in hand. “You wanna know something essential in making an old-fashioned? Something that requires technique and precise measurement to make it just right?”
I swallow, unable to disguise my worry. “I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me.” I attempt to maintain control, but I’m slipping.
His earthy smell invades my senses and the perfectly trimmed mustache above his lip is looking really fucking sexy right about now. I never knew I had a thing for mustaches, but I guess we learn something new every day.
“Needs the perfect amount of bitters.” August grins, and there’s a hidden meaning layered underneath. “Know anything about being bitter, little venom?”
That asshole.He means me.
“Me? Know anything about being bitter? Never.”
“Maybe I should help you out with that. Seems you need a reminder.” It’s when August dips his forefinger into the mixture and swirls it around the brim of the glass, ensuring not a trace of flavor is left behind, that I feel my heart plummet.
I’m about to make a bad, bad choice, and I’m in too deep to turn around now.
Might as well go hard or go home. It’s my last hoorah, after all.
