Page 9 of Taurus

“You want to come make me a drink, or are you just gonna keep running your mouth?”

I licked my lips. “I’d like to do both, if that’s ok with you.”

“As long as your body can cash the checks your mouth is running,” he snickered.

Climbing over the back of the sofa, almost tripping over a shoelace. I watched as Zander stared, shaking his head. “I’m not taking my shoes off,” I told him.

“Come in here,” he said. “The kitchen is clean.”

It was a polar opposite. The kitchen was spotless, and by that, it almost looked unlived in. Compared to the rest of the apartment, I wondered if it even belonged to him. “I can’t figure you out.”

“Good. I don’t need boys like you thinking they can figure me out.” He placed a thumb under my chin, pushing it up to tease me with the idea of a kiss. “But if you think you’ve figured me out, let me know. I’d love to prove you wrong.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, almost touching his lips.

He let go. “Let me try and figure you out.”He opened a cupboard to a shelf of spirits, mixers, and bottles of wine. “Make a drink you think represents me.”

There were a few requests I got as a bartender, and one of them was make me a drink based on me, especially when it was someone I’d known for all of five seconds. “Hmm. Do you have a shaker and a strainer?”

“Yeah, I’ve got them somewhere, let me—”

“I won’t need them” I told him. “I know exactly what I’m going to make you.”

He nodded. “What?”

“You go wait out there, maybe do some cleaning,” I said. “I’ll figure all of this out.”

On the liquor shelf, Zander had several bottles of vodka, gin, rum, and tequila. They ranged from expensive to bottom shelf, the type I wouldn’t serve to even my enemies. But I knew what I was going to make him.

It was an easy drink, simple too. I didn’t want him to think I was taking that route. I rummaged through his pantry, fridge, and freezer in search of supplies. I grabbed a lemon, a cucumber, and I filled a glass with ice.

Usually, if I was making a drink like this, I’d add flourishes to it with fresh edible flowers. Zander had a rugged look, like someone in a gym you think could bench press you and then break your back over their knee. This drink was for him.

A gin and tonic with cucumber and lemon slices stuck between the ice. I used his Hendrick’s Gin, and the tonic from a can in his pantry. It didn’t showcase what I could do, but it was a great drink. I took a sip, just to make sure, then made myself one.

“Gin and tonic,” he said, unimpressed when I presented him with the glass.

“You haven’t even tasted it.”

“You put cucumber in it,” he said. “It’s the only reason I have cucumber in the fridge.”

I sipped my drink, trying to act unphased by him. “I figured it was one of the toys you were telling me about.”

“Please,” he said, furrowing his brow. “Give me more credit. The only produce I’m putting in someone’s ass is this—homegrown meat.” He grabbed his crotch outside his trousers.

“Drink,” I said. “You know you’re annoying, right?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Guys with big dicks, always think they’re funnier than they are by the way,” I said, taking another sip. The sass was coming out strong.

He took a drink, nodding his head and smiling. “It’s nice,” he said. “But I could’ve made it.” He shrugged, the smile growing bigger. He was testing me.

“That’s a reflection on you then,” I said. “This drink represents you. So, easy to do, a little bitter, and a little fruity.”

“Touché,” he said. “So, what’s your drink?”

I took another drink, letting all the notes of the gin wash over my tongue. I didn’t know exactly what my drink was. I’d never thought too much about it. “Something sweet, obviously, and maybe a rum, spiced.”