Promise Not To Fall by Shey Stahl

Author:Shey Stahl [Stahl, Shey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shey Stahl LLC
Published: 2018-07-08T18:30:00+00:00

1½ parts Tommy Bahama Golden Sun® rum

1 part mango rum

1½ parts pineapple juice

½ part fresh-squeezed lime juice

½ part simple syrup

2 dashes of Angostura® bitters

Mix all together over ice, served in a double rocks glass, garnished with a lemon twist.

Most people, even me, would never believe you can fall for someone in a matter of days. They don’t believe in love at first sight. I never did. But I’m starting to. After being here four days and spending every one of them with Island Boy, I’m starting to.

I’m hesitant, though. I’m not naïve. I know Jake is here to show people a good time. And that sucks for me, because I don’t know what’s real and what’s just for show. You know, it’s exactly like if you took the movie Cocktail and then combined that with Dirty Dancing, that’s my life, and damn it, nobody puts baby in the corner.

Sitting in the bar in my usual spot, not the corner, I say, without thinking, “I bet you see a lot of broken hearts here, huh? People drinking their problems away.”

Jake laughs, the sound low and throaty. He’s wearing a black shirt tonight, and it’s goddamn beautiful the way it clings to his tattooed biceps. “Yeah, there’s a lot of ’em who come here looking for a one-night thing. It doesn’t matter how you look at it, Kendall. A heart is always on the line.”

Sometimes when you’re falling for someone, or in my case, trying really hard not to, one moment can seal the deal and coat your dry island-burnt lips with sugar-sweet words. That one moment sends you over the edge, and you know for sure you’ve fallen.

Flustered, I stare at the menu before me and smile. “What’s next?”

“Heartbreaker.”

“How fitting.”

He grins. Nothing more. Just a flirty fucking grin I want to kiss off his hot face.

“So how’s it made, then?” I’m curious about this bartending thing. Jake made me curious. He’s so passionate about it.

He gestures behind the bar. “Come back here and I’ll show you.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Why would it be? My dad owns the bar. Doubt he’d care.”

More excited than I need to be, I get behind the bar, and I learn a lot that night from him and Nash. Chasers, cocktails, beer, on the rocks, straight up, all terms I’m taught. I break two bottles of whiskey and one bottle of bourbon. I swear to his dad I will pay for it, only to have him inform me Jake holds the record for the most bottles of booze dropped in one night. Seventeen.

“What the fuck were you doing?” I ask, sensing the story behind those seventeen bottles is a good one.

Leaning against the bar with crossed arms, Nash lets out a boisterous laugh. “He went through a phase when he was twenty-one where he thought he was Tom Cruise.”

I can’t help myself and join in the laughter, picturing Jake acting out the scene from the nightclub and doing a little speech on the bar. My hand covers my mouth, trying to rein myself in.

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