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“Don't start. Kiley made me wear it.”

“It's festive.”

“It's humiliating.”

“Both things can be true.”

She rolls her eyes and reaches beneath the counter. “Come here. I made you something.”

I approach the bar. “Should I be worried?”

“Probably.” She sets a short glass in front of me.

The drink is creamy caramel in color, with a dusting of cinnamon across the top and three coffee beans arranged near the rim.

I lean closer. “What is it?”

“Amaretto, espresso, a little coffee liqueur, and vanilla cream. Think espresso martini meets amaretto sour, minus the sour.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It's delicious.” I take a cautious sip. The first thing I taste is coffee, followed by almond and a smooth sweetness that lingers on my tongue. “Oh, my God.”

Avery beams. “Right?”

“This is incredible.”

“I know.”

“What's it called?”

She grins. “The Bishop's Temptation.”

I nearly choke. “Avery!”

Of course she did.

Because apparently it isn't enough that the man has taken over my bed, my thoughts, and a concerning percentage of my waking hours.

Now he's invading the cocktail menu, too.

“What?”

“You cannot name a cocktail after Bishop.”

“Technically, I named it after temptation. The Bishop part is just a happy coincidence.”

I stare at her.

She stares back.

Then we both start laughing.

“You're ridiculous.”

“And you're welcome.”

I take another sip. “Seriously, though. You should put this on the menu.”