Page 77 of Promise Not To Fall

1 strawberry

2 parts tawny port

½ part lemon juice

½ part simple syrup

Muddle strawberry with lemon juice. Add remaining ingredients and ice. Shake well and strain into a double rocks glass. Garnish with a strawberry.

I spent the morning on the balcony with Rylee eating breakfast. We sit there talking for a few minutes. Then I sigh. “I don’t want to leave.”

There. I said it. I’d been thinking it for a while.

Rylee smiles. It’s the first one I’ve seen in a while. “We’ve talked about this. You know that you can be an assistant anywhere, right?”

“I know.” I shrug, watching the palm trees swaying in the breeze.

“But do you?” Rylee stares over at me. “It seems that you’re just settling for the fact that it won’t work out.”

I know exactly what she’s referring to. Jake. And staying here. Other than Rylee, what do I have that ties me to Phoenix? Nothing.

I can stay. I can take Stevie up on that job offer if I want to. “It might not work though.”

“But then again, it might.” Rylee always looks at the positive aspects of everything. A lot like Jake does. She wants me to see that, should I want to stay—and let’s face it, I do—that I can. “Now I need to go pack my shit. Meet us in the lobby?”

Nodding, I stare at my bags, which I’d packed last night. There’s one last thing I need to do before leaving. Say goodbye to Island Boy.

When I get to the bar, Jake looks sad. The expression is genuine and seems to consume his eyes. He tries to wash it away, blinking, but doing that only makes it that much more obvious.

In eleven days, my life had changed completely. When I think of loving someone, I think of myself as holding a firecracker in my hand and that person has the lighter. Some people close their fists around the firecracker. Others just let it sit there knowing damn well they’re going to get burned, but wanting to limit the damage. People like Jake, they close their fists automatically. They don’t care and go into it knowing there’s a possibility of losing their hand, but they do it anyway.

Love is strange. It can break apart your life in ways you never thought and sink your soul. It can bring you to your knees and make you hate yourself for believing in it.

The moment I step foot on the deck, Jake spots me, his eyes following me as I sit down at the bar in front of him.

“I’ve got one last drink for you to try,” he says, smiling over the sadness.

“I’ve tried them all?”

He nods. “You have. But I have one more for you that’s not on the menu.”

“Okay, which one?”

His smile is there, but it isn’t anything like it had been that first night when I showed up in this bar. “Port of Call.”

“What’s in it?”

“A strawberry, tawny port, lemon juice, and simple syrup.”

I watch closely as he makes the drink, reminded of that first night. Him singing Boyz II Men, the body shots, our first kiss on the beach, and our night together. All great memories. It hurts to even think about leaving; I have to stop myself from reflecting for that reason.

We talk at the bar, I finish the drink, but I can tell he’s busy and I’m delaying the inevitable here. “I need to get going.”

Jake nods and comes around the other side of the bar. He puts his arm around me and leans closer, his breath hitting my skin as we walk to the edge of the deck. “I’m a selfish man, and I don’t want you to leave.”

Crap. I’m going to cry. Goddamn it. “I don’t want to leave, either.”

“Do you think you’ll ever come back?”

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