Page 14 of Jesse's Girl
Setting out a cocktail shaker, I pour in a shot of white rum, some pineapple juice, and a shot of blue curacao. As I reach for a scoop of ice, Jesse gives me a cautious look.
“What the hell are you making me?” he asks, leaning forward on his elbows and peering into the shaker.
Beside him, Marcus huddles close to Renee, engrossed in something on her phone.
“Shut up. You said my choice, right?”
He raises a brow but says nothing.
“It’s delicious. Trust me.” I add the cream of coconut, then cap and shake it before pouring it over a fresh glass of ice. I flick my eyes up to Jesse, satisfied by his vaguely concerned expression when he clocks the bright blue color. Wedging a slice of pineapple over the rim of the glass, I reach for a maraschino cherry and drop it gently on top.
I’m about to hand it to Jesse when I pause.
“Wait!” I blurt out. I fish a little paper umbrella out from behind the bar and open it, adding it as a finishing touch before sliding the drink over to him.
He glances up with an uncertain smile.
“Welcome home, asshole.” I smirk as I wipe my hands on a damp cloth.
He studies the drink, then raises a brow at me.
I soak in his dubious reaction, feeling more than a little pleased with myself.
He shakes his head, his smile splitting into a broad grin.
And that’s when I feel it: the slight flush of heat on my collarbone. The unmistakable way my body responds under his gaze. The warmth spreads, its treasonous tentacles crawling over my skin.
No. Nope.
I force my attention on wiping down the bar, scrambling to keep my cool. My brain races to catch up with my body, ready to give it hell for extreme insubordination.
Shut that shit down, Ada. He’s Marcus’ best friend.
4
JESSE
Ican’t believe the girly abomination of a drink Ada just slid in front of me. Her delighted smile and twinkling eyes challenge me to drink it.
“Oh, fuck me,” I say after I swallow the first sip, screwing up my face in surprise. “That’s good.” I look to Ada but she’s busy wiping down the bar, her amusement gone. I get the distinct feeling I missed something.
“Jesus Christ, Jess,” Marcus says, clocking my excessively adorned drink. “Are you a 21-year-old sorority girl all of a sudden, or what?”
“Well, if this is the shit they drink, no wonder they’re so bubbly,” I say. “This has gotta be mostly sugar.”
Ada gives a small nod of confirmation.
“It tastes like a piña colada. What’s it called?” I ask her before taking another sip.
“A blue Hawaiian,” Renee answers for me. “I used to drink them in college,” she adds with a guilty shrug.
Marcus puts his arm around her and pulls her close, kissing her temple.
“Oh, hey,” I say, lifting my chin at Ada. “I saw Katie at the hospital.”
“Yeah. She mentioned. Well, sort of. She was there when I got Marcus’ text about picking you up. But don’t worry, she’s a pro—those lips were zipped.”
“Right. Doctor-patient confidentiality. Or nurse-patient confidentiality, I guess.” I nod, taking another sip of my drink. “Mom’s out of the ICU now, at least. They moved her to the surgical ward.”