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ONE
WINTER
“This is ridiculous,” I say, rolling my eyes, hoping my friends don’t actually expect me to do this.
“It’s not ridiculous, Winter. Just pucker that pretty little mouth into an O, wrap your lips around the edge, then tilt your head back and let the salty liquid pour down your throat. You’ve got this.”
Sondra smirks with a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. She runs her fingers through her long, red curls, waiting for me to react. The rest of them are staring at me too. My best friends.Pfft, some best friends. Their need to see me squirm in front ofHot Bartender Guyoverrides their need to see me leave this bar with my dignity intact.
“Go. Do it, Winter. He’s watching you.” Dottie arches her eyebrows and nods like we’re teenagers sneaking a smoke behind the bleachers.
“Jesus, fine. What the hell.” I shrug and throw my inhibitions—along with my self-respect—into a pile of sticks, douse it in lighter fluid, and strike a match.
Opening my mouth wide enough to clear the mountainous peak of whipped creamHot Bartender Guyput on this shot, I lower my O-shaped mouth over the rim of the glass, tighten my lips, then shoot it back, swallowing the salted caramel flavored booze in one go.
“There you go, Win, elongate that beautiful neck,” Sondra purrs, making Dottie and Keith chuckle beside me.
My lips loosen around the rim of the glass, dropping it into my hand. Licking my lips, I dab the corners of my mouth with a napkin like the lady I am.
“Andthatis how it’s done, you little sluts,” I say, a gleam of satisfaction glinting in my eyes.
“Andthatis why they call it a blowjob shot,youlittle slut.” Keith chuckles into his extra dirty martini with six olives and an ice cube. “My Queen,” he praises, then pops an olive into his smiling mouth.
“You made that look angelic, Win.” Sondra laughs before taking a sip of her wine.
Sondra and I have been best friends since the womb. Her mother was best friends with mine…until her mother married Max Bose, founder and owner of Bose Hotels Corporation, that is. Her mom tried to stay grounded, even after marrying into an empire, but her schedule filled up quickly, leaving girls’ night with my mom a thing of the past.
Sondra and I stayed as close as sisters, though. And at the age of sixteen, when I lost my mother to a piece-of-shit drunk driver, throwing my life into an unmanageable tailspin, I started spending alotof time at the Bose household. Especially when the air around my father became too dense to breathe. There were days I could tell he wished I hadn’t been there—being my mother’s twin must have made it hard for him to want me around.
Dottie and Keith came into our crazy mix five years ago when I got a job at Java House—a coffee hut on the East side of Port Blue. They quickly became my work wife and husband, hitting it off with Sondra the first night we all hung out. By the time I quit my barista gig to accept a full-time position as a publisher’s reader for Black Ink Publishing, we four were ingrained in each other—just like family.
Dottie lifts a napkin, wiping the corner of my upper lip, grinning from ear to ear. “Well, it worked, because he’s coming over…”
“You guys! I amnotgoing home with him! Sondra, it’s your bachelorette party. I’m supposed to make sureyouhave fun, then get you home—”
“Lock it up,” she hisses through her smiling teeth. “He’s almost here.”
“Okay, but you all are going to hate yourselves when he turns out to be a serial kille—”
“I was wondering if you were ever going to take that shot,”Hot Bartender Guy’sdeep cadence reaches between us and grabs my gut, awakening butterflies that have been dormant for quite some time.
He leans against the other side of the bar with his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Careless, but happy, and hopelessly sexy in a scruffy way. His sleeveless shirt showing a hint of what his hard abdomen might look like under its cotton.
“Ha…” I nervously produce sounds, trying to quickly unearth my cool.How long has it been since I’ve flirted?“Don’t you love it when you come out of the bathroom to find your friends have ordered you a blowjob shot to takealonein a bar full of watchful eyes?”
His piercing green irises scan my face, a predatory smirk of amusement tugging at his lips. “They were watching you before the shot… You’re beautiful.”Hot Bartender Guy’ssmirk grows into a full-blown grin. “Was it good?”
The way he’s gazing at me through the dusty-blond hair swept across his forehead almost makes me melt into a puddle of stuttering nerves.Almost.
“It wasyourblowjob, you tell me...”
My friends chuckle around me. HBG licks his lips with a smirk, then leans forward, resting his elbows on the bar in front of me.
“My name is Dylan, and I live in an apartment above this bar. I’m twenty-two, I surf every morning at five—almost religiously—I’m a Cancer sign, I hate chocolate—some people think that’s weird—I’mnota serial killer, and I would very much love to take you to dinner. Blowjobs optional.”
“Twenty-two?!” Keith scoffs. “You’re just a baby. You better pick this one up, Win, or I’m going to do it for you. Mr. Surfer is. H. O. T.” He spells the word, dragging out each letter.
Christ. I’m getting nervous, hot, and bothered over a twenty-two-year-old surfer who hates chocolate.Who the fuck?One-night stands aren’t really my thing, butnothaving one with Dylan seems like a betrayal to women everywhere. It’d be a sacrilege not to take advantage of this opportunity.
