Page 20 of Promise Not To Fall

“I wantmore.”

Chuckling, Zain pats my back. “It was nice meeting you, Kendall, but I must go. Hope you have a good vacation.”

My eyes sneak to Jake’s. “I plan to.”

Jake gives me another smile, and then nods to Zain. “I’ll see you at home, man.”

“You live with him?”

He gives another nod, his eyes on the bar. I notice he bites his bottom lip when he makes drinks. Sometimes. But then it gets me wondering what else makes him bite that lip. I bet he does it in bed. I’ve always found that sexy. And I really hope he doesn’t have a monkey’s asshole tattooed on his belly.

I should ask him.

Nah.

Setting a shot glass on the bar, Jake reaches behind him, getting some Kahlua, Bailey’s, and 151 rum, along with another bottle, although I can’t tell what it is. Never measuring, he takes the Kahlua and pours it in the shot glass. He then takes a spoon, turns it upside down and drizzles the Bailey’s over the Kahlua. He does the same with the other bottle of what I can see now is Grand Marnier. Finally, he adds just a drop of 151. And then, with the wickedest of grins, he pulls a lighter out of his pocket and lights the liquid.

My eyes widen. “Oh my God, you light it on fire?”

“Well, that’s the general idea.” He pulls the shot glass away about a foot, arching his eyebrow. “Should I trust you with fire?”

His brow raises further when I don’t say anything. My vexation is evident. He knows it.

“Shut up.” Blowing out the flame, I make a wish. It seems appropriate. Then I down that motherfucker without a second thought. Only problem is, I suppose it’s not designed to be drank that way. Burnt my damn tongue.

He holds up the straw a little too late. “You were supposed to use a straw so you didn’t burn your lips and not blow it out.”

“Why wouldn’t you blow it out? You can’t drink fire. Now my lips are on fire,” I cry out, rubbing them with the back of my hand.

“I’d say I could put the fire out… but my kisses are hotter than that.”

“Do you get your lines from a bartenders’ pickup book? I’m really disappointed in you,” I tease.

He gives a shrug, amused, I’m sure, but something tells me his words are true. His kisses are probably hot. Look at that mouth. They totally are.

When I think about it, Jake is a lot like Rylee. Maybe that’s why I’ve been sitting at his bar for what, like seven or eight hours now and feel so comfortable around him. Though he pissed me off and I want to shove that fire drink down his throat, I’m still intrigued by him.

Nash walks by again and gives me a funny look.

“Why is he always squinting? Or is it me that’s squinting?”

Jake chuckles. “No, it’s him. There’s two reasons for that. He smokes too much weed and he’s fucking blind. He refuses to get glasses.”

“Oh, well there’s that, huh.” I shrug, taking a mannerism from Jake. With a flick of my wrist, I motion around the bar. “What do you do in here?” I keep jumping from one conversation to the next.

“It’s a bar. People drink. Drinks I light on fire.”

I glare, touching my fingers to my lips. “Do they play drinking games?”

“Drinking games are for losers and college frat boys.”

“Okay, then. What’s this one?” My lips wrap around the straw, pulling in a small drink. I let my eyes wander to his, blinking slowly. I’m trying to be sexy.

“It’s just water. Finish it and I’ll make you another drink.” His stare is bold and more on my cleavage, which is surely on display for him. I love that his stare makes no apologies. It’s like he wants me to know he’s interested.

Once I’m done with my water, and I use the restroom for like the hundredth time tonight, Jake makes me another drink, this time with whiskey and Seven-Up. I don’t care for whiskey all that much, but I try it anyway because Jake made the drink.

As the taste of the drink swirls in my mouth, I ruin the moment by saying, “That tastes like a hobo’s nut sack.”

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