Drink Therapy

"The hell with all men!" I stated loudly, raising the glass filled with a rainbow drink, a pineapple slice, and a little umbrella. The bartender gave me a meaningful look, and I giggled. "Except for you, Jarvis," I amended, shakily using my drink to point at him. "You're gay, so you're not part of the evil jerks' population."

My veins slowly satiated with sweet liquor. The humming of alcohol gracefully blended with the sound of the ocean waves. It felt pleasant. I wouldn't mind staying in this fuzzy, unbothered state throughout the weekend…   

"I suggest you slow down with drinking," Jarvis said as his mouth formed a crooked smile.

My chin fell and violently rose in a nod. "Yes, sir. That will surely be my final drink for tonight." I shoved a slice of pineapple into my mouth, ignoring Jarvis's pitying stare at me. Swallowing the fruit, I pointed at my drink. "I have a feeling that once I see the bottom of this glass, I will forget my ex's name. Then, it'll be a good moment to stop drinking," I told him.

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes and turned to his other clients sitting at the beach bar.

Well, I couldn't expect more from the guy I'd met an hour ago, who was doing his job, serving tourists colorful and ridiculously expensive cocktails, and who was kind enough to talk to a lonely woman like me.

My smile faded as soon as he walked away. My carefree state disappeared as the sliver of reason rushed to remind me that I barely crawled out of my long days of heart-shattering misery. This weekend in Nassau was supposed to be my remedy, but apparently, the luxurious 5-star Golden Solèy Hotel, the astonishing ocean view, and the six alcoholic cocktails were not enough to activate the healing process.

Who was I kidding?! The pain of betrayal and humiliation was impossible to erase in a day or two, and a week or two wasn't enough either. Still, I stopped crying, and I considered it progress.

I corrected the shoulder straps of my pink bikini top and pulled my unbuttoned shirt to my shoulders. I loved the sun, but the love wasn't mutual. As a white-skinned redhead, the only kind of tan I could get was the one resembling a red rash, which disappeared as soon as my skin stopped itching. Unlike everyone around me, bravely exposing their already sun-kissed bodies, I was always forced to shield mine with an additional layer of fabric. A deep sigh escaped my lips.

"You're OK, Sarah?" Jarvis returned to my side of the bar, giving me a concerned look. Although I bet that he merely wondered if I wasn't going to throw up the rainbow cocktails all over his workplace.

I drew a wry smile. "No, I'm not."

"Want to talk about it?" he offered, lowering his voice as he leaned toward me. "I've just finished my work, so…"

I looked around and saw that the beach bar was closing and people were leaving. Shifting my gaze back to Jarvis, I shook my head. "I don't want to spoil anyone's mood by talking about my cheating ex."

He chuckled. "I'll be the only one hearing your story, and you cannot possibly ruin my mood." When I gave him a suspicious look, he added, "I promise it'll make you feel better, and I promise to hate that guy as fiercely as you do."

I snorted. I had never been the type to complain about anything. I kept my pains hidden under a smile, but perhaps I had enough alcohol running in my veins to sincerely laugh at my poor life choices. I drew a deep breath. "Long story short. I fell in love. Nicholas was a law student, and I studied art. I thought that he was the one," I said and rolled my eyes at my own naivety. "We moved in together. I quit my studies and started working two jobs so that he could study without any care. I was the one who paid for rent, bought food, cooked, and took care of all the house chores… Then, one day, I witnessed my boyfriend proposing to a rich lawyer's daughter. He did it in a high-end restaurant, spending the money I earned." I gave him a bitter smile.

"What a cheating dick!" Jarvis exclaimed and quickly clamped his hand over his mouth, glancing around and hoping that the last customers hadn't heard him cursing.

I laughed, and it felt good to laugh. "I know, right?" I took a sip from my drink and cleared my throat. "Then I took all my things and moved to my friend's apartment. I spent a whole week crying before I realized I still had money I saved for my so-called future with Nicholas."

The bartender's eyes widened. "So what are you going to do with the money?"

I smirked and pointed at my glass. "I'm spending it right now. I want this to be the weekend that will change my life," I declared, downing what was left in my glass.

Jarvis laughed. "Maybe you should find a guy that will help you forget?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I don't do one-night stands."

He leaned closer and smirked. "Well, I could see a few guys worthy of making an exception to your rule."

In my alcohol-driven reflex, I turned around and followed Jarvis's line of sight, and my God, what a sight it was! Four men, all dressed in well-tailored suits, sat at a nearby table on the hotel terrace. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes scanned their bodies and registered the rippled abdomens and broad chests not-so-well hidden under slightly stretched white shirts. Had they escaped from the Men's Health photoshoot or something?!

One of them seemed to draw my attention with double force. He was tall—a few inches taller than the rest of his friends. His mass of dark-brown hair fell in gentle waves, forming a perfectly controlled mess. His hazel eyes and spotless complexion seemed to glimmer in the setting sun. If it hadn't been for the fact that his skin had an enviable light golden shade, I would have suspected him of being a vampire… Certainly, I considered the possibility that it could have been alcohol clouding my vision, but aside from the sparkling thing, he was still supernaturally hot.

"Wow," I let out a barely audible murmur, but Jarvis didn't miss my awe.

"I heard his name is Alex. He's here for a business conference," he offered.

My head snapped in his direction. "What?"

He snorted. "I'm talking about the guy you were checking out."

A peal of hysteric laughter tore through my throat. "I wasn't checking him out!"

"It's not a crime, you know?" He winked.

I rolled my eyes and rose to my feet. "Whatever. I should get back to my room."

"Wait!" Jarvis called out as my feet were in the middle of pivoting toward the hotel. He hurriedly mixed another drink and placed it on the bar. "On the house."

I grinned and happily snatched the glass. "Thank you, Jarvis. You're officially my favorite bartender."

"You better remember that tomorrow." He grinned.

Giggling, I turned around and started marching toward the hotel entrance. The task turned out to be harder than I thought. All the consumed alcohol was now dancing around my feet, shifting them from side to side. Clenching my teeth, I summoned my strength and concentrated on walking.

"Left… right… left… right," I muttered, forcing my feet forward, careful not to spill too much of my drink. I was doing fine until the firm wall rose before me…

"Fucking hell!" A deep growl caused me to stumble back.

I looked at my glass—it was only half full. I gulped and slowly raised my eyes to the growling wall. "Fuck me…"

In front of me was an angry beast—an insanely hot, over six-foot-tall beast in a suit —named Alex. His hazel eyes were locked on me, and I probably shouldn't find them sexy at that moment, but the alcohol told me otherwise. As my eyes roamed lower, I noticed the missing part of my drink… on his shirt.

"Oh… shit," I breathed out, meeting the beast's eyes. "I didn't mean to," I murmured, giving him my best pleading gaze.

He didn't seem impressed. His jaw was clenching, and his insanely alluring features sharpened.

I needed to act fast, but my blurry mind wasn't very helpful. "I… I can wash your shirt," I blurted out. "I know how to get rid of every kind of stain from every kind of fabric."

His eyes narrowed as he stared at me in silence. I held my breath. Then those eyes slowly drifted down, measuring my cleavage, my jeans shorts, and my bare legs before returning to my face. A smirk appeared. "All right," he finally drew. "Wash it. I expect to get my shirt spotless tomorrow."

A wave of relief washed over me, my tension fading, but then he shrugged off his jacket. A second later, his fingers began to move, undoing the buttons and exposing the flesh hidden underneath. My heart stopped. This man was a fucking masterpiece! I would sell my kidneys to have a model like him in my art school! Or not. Scratch that. I would have been bound to act highly unprofessional if I'd had a model like him…

"Are you done staring?" His deep chuckle forced my eyes to stop admiring his chiseled abdomen.

"Yes," I answered as my brain cells facepalmed.

"Here." He tossed me his drink-stained shirt. "See you tomorrow...?"

"Sarah," I choked out.

He smirked and held my gaze for something that felt like a small eternity. "Sarah."

My name wrapped in his sultry voice echoed in my mind long after he walked away, shirtless. I stayed still, reminding myself how to breathe. Fortunately, my heart restarted flawlessly and was now pounding at a strong pace. For the first time since my rough breakup, it didn't hurt.

I considered it progress.