My Brother’s Best Friend

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Gin and Juice

Birdie

Who does Willow think she is?

I'm standing in a club packed with people, yet I feel so alone. I check the time on my phone 10:30pm, so she has till 11:30pm to get her ass back to me.

I see a male start to approach me, but I quickly turn around and head towards the bar on the right side. I am not one to entertain the opposite sex, you can thank my brother Mason for that one. He has always been so over protected of me. That's why at 18 years old I haven't even had my first kiss yet. Boys in my grade absolutely feared him, and his best friend Rip.

Oh Rip, sweet sweet Rip.

I have been crushing on him since he was 10, and I was 5. I truly did try to shove down the feelings I have for him, but they always seem to surface. Puberty was not shy on blessing him with his manliness. I seen him go from wearing glasses, having matching dinosaur pjs with my brother, pimples all over his face, mud eating, farting machine, to a handsome 'knows what he wants' man. His pale skin became covered in ink as soon as he turned 16, different girls for each day of the week, his bike turned into a red Subaru WRX, his anger started to get the best of him. Even with all of these changes that he was going through, my feelings for him never lessened. Unfortently guys like him, didn't go for girls like me. Fading into the background seemed to of been the best solution for the problem. Even with Willow being my best friend, she doesn't even know how I feel about him. When Rip and Will look at each other there is nothing but lust. I'm sure they have already hooked up before, or are planning too. The thought of this makes my heart sink to my stomach, but what did I think was going to happen? He was going to come to my bedroom window on a horse wearing armour, and we would ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after. Yeah right. Sometimes even opposites don't attract.

People started pulling on me to dance with them. Girls, guys, guys with girls, girls with girls, and guys with guys. I needed to get out of this mosh pit of people. I spot an unoccupied barstool in the middle. I look to see if anyone was going for it.

Coast is clear.

I practically run to the stool, and the individuals already seated at the bar, give me weird looks. I give them a slight smile, and awardly take my seat. There is at least 4 bartenders tending the bar, and that still isn't enough to keep up with everyone. I have no idea what I'm doing, or what I'm going to order. I started to pick at the skin on my thumbs.

This was such a mistake to come here.

I prop my elbows onto the bar top, and I put my head into my hands. My fingers are pressing the sides of my temples.

"What can I get for you Miss?" I hear only a few inches away from my face.

I drop my hands, and I look up. The person standing before me is a handsome man. He has no facial hair, which makes me question how old he really is. I know you need to be at least 21 to bar tend, but he could totally pass for being 16. His eyes are your normal hazel eyes, nothing special to them. However, when I look into them, I see a big honey pot. A substance that is warm and sticky, but so delicious. I can feel myself start to blush to think of something so childish.

He smacks the counter top to get my attention again, "Would you like something to drink Miss? I wish I could look at you all day too, but some of us need to make a buck or two. You aren't the only one at the bar. Figure out what you want." His tone went from flirty to annoyed.

Okay, all my feelings for this stranger just went out the window. Someone's personality screams, 'Little dick syndrome'. For someone who makes their income with tips, should really be nicer.

I give him a friendly smile, "Ryker Miller told me that I should tell one of you bartenders that I'm with him'". The mixologist had no shame in rolling his honey eyes at me.

Asshole.

He puts hit bottom lip between his teeth, and starts to chew on the flaky skin, "Again, what would you like Miss?" His tone is now fully annoyed with me.

How am I suppose to know what I want?

I never ordered a drink in my life. I'm trying to think back at some of the drinks actors have ordered in movies that I have seen. All I can remember is Gin, and some type of juice. Orange juice, cranberry juice, pineapple juice, grape juice, so many juices to choose from.

What if he doesn't have the type of juice that I say? Do I just tell him to suggest another one?

I take a deep breathe trying to easy my anxiety, which I have been able to manage over the years. "I would like Gin and juice." I smile at him.

He turns his back to me and reaches for a tall glass tumbler that seems to be in the processes of drying on a white towel. He comes back over to me, and opens up what seems to be the ice box. The barkeeper takes the glass, and fills the cup with ice. He once again turns around to head towards the rows, and rows of vodka. "Beth, where's the gin bottle at?"

I see a curvy brunette women who looks to be in her mid 40's come toward him. "Sorry Connor, I was using it." He smiles at her, and retrieves the bottle from her.

Connor makes his way back over to the glass that he has momentarily abandoned. He starts to pour the Gin into the glass, filling it practically half way. It doesn't seem like a lot since there is so much ice, which will dilute the whole drink.

Bars are such rip offs.

"What kind of juice would you like?" He asks me in what seems to be his normal voice.

"Cranberry please." I shout to him since the music seems to be getting louder by the minute. He nods his head, and heads to the stainless steal fridge.

Connor fills the rest of the tumbler with the juice, causing it to over flow. He dunks a straw into it, and slides it my way. "There you go. If you want more slide your glass forward and one of us will get you a refill." I nod with a smile.

Thank god he didn't ask for ID.

I watch as the tear drop liquid runs down the glass and collides with the black top, making it fully disapper. I am someone that doesn't drink much, maybe an occasional wine cooler at a summer BBQ. The thought of drinking something that tastes like rubbing alcohol that you use for cuts, just really never sounded applying to me. However, I want to get out of my comfort zone, and start to try new things that terrified me in High School. I grab the glass to slide it closer to me, and gently place my lips on the straw, so I don't smug my lipstick that Willow put on me. I take a deep breath.

I hope this doesn't burn when it goes down, but here goes nothing.

I take a quick little sip, just enough to wet my palate.

Oh my god, you can't even taste the alcohol!

My dry mouth quickly reminds me that I am extremely thirsty. I start to gulp down the gin and juice. The cranberry is so bitter, that it cancels out the burning sensation that would come with drinking hard liquor. I don't know if all gin and juices taste like this, but they need to. Connor has blessed this drink with his mixing skills. I slide my glass closer for the bartenders to reach, just like what Connor said to do. I look next to me on my left to a couple practically having sex at the bar. I quickly look away, and turn my head to the right. Thats when I see him. Rip.

He is at one of the booths in the corner alone. Well, techinally he is companied by a topless girl with tattoos dancing on the table. I see him reach into his pocket and pull out some money, she takes it from him, and puts it in her thong. I can't really see her face from where I'm sitting, but I can make out her body shape. If my body looked as good as her's, I would show it off too. No wonder Rip is practically drooling over her.

"What another one sweetie?" A women asks, but my attention is still on Rip.

I can see a smile on his face. Which automatically lightens up this darken night club. I see the tattooed girl put her foot on the cushion that is in-between his legs, as he reaches for her, she graciously startles him. She starts to kiss his neck, but he has to move his head on a slight diagonal to get to what I assume is his 'sweet spot'. Our eyes lock together. I can feel his green eyes burning into my blue ones. His noes flares, and I can tell his breathing has changed.

If he can come here, why can't I? I am so tired of the over protected brother, and his best friend. I can do what I want. I am 18, which they seem to forget.

The dancer pulls away from his neck, but he is still staring at me. I give him a shy smile, and I turn my attention to the bartender.

"Yes please." I say to the lady who Connor called Beth earlier.

She gets a new glass, and repeats the same steps that Connor did: ice, gin, juice, straw, slide.

"Thank you Beth." I say to her as I grab the drink with my hand.

She smiles at me, and walks away to serve the people that just sat down. I start to gulp down my drink once again, but this time I can taste the alcohol. I shoot the liquid back into the cup through the straw. If I don't drink her drink, then she is going to know that I don't like it, and I really don't want to hurt her feelings.

Maybe if I hold my breathe and chug, I won't experience the burning till after the drink is done.

Once again I put the tube in my mouth, and I take a deep breath. I'm attempting to make big gulps to try to get it down faster. I am about half way down with the drink, when someone takes the stool next to me. I quickly drop the straw from my mouth. I instantly regret doing this, because now my throat is on fire. I try to use my saliva to coat it, but it just doesn't seem to be working. My nose scrunches up from the awful taste in my mouth.

"Gin and juice, my favorite drink." A deep masculine voice says to me.

I know for a fact that this isn't Rip, but I have definitely heard this voice before sometime in my life. I don't know if the alcohol is what made me turn to look in his direction, or if it was his raspy sexy voice.

Ian Miller.

I knew he was the owner to this club, but I wasn't expecting to run into him. My brother and him haven't talked in about 3 years.

I wonder if he is going to put the two and two together.

In his defense though, I look nothing like I did in 8th grade, and he looks nothing like he did in high school.

I don't ever remember him being so attractive before.

His chestnut brown hair is combed back, and his sides are short, blending in evenly as it gets longer on top. He has the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen, yet some how I can still see myself in them. Ian's facial hair is so neat, not a single hair is out of place. His beard is full on his cheeks, chin, and upper lip, but not long. A long beard wouldn't look good on him, it would take away from his face. He has little brown specks on his t-zone. If I can recall he was an athlete in school, but his body is much fuller now. The tight black suit that he is wearing shows off his muscles.

I smile at him, "Haha, yeah. It's not too bad." I curl my toes in my heels to wake them up, but then I realize that it's the gin and juice, not little needles making my toes feel like this.

He lips form into a grin, showing off his straight bleach smile.

He calls out to Connor for him to come here. He walks a little slow as he approaches us, "Yes boss?" I can hear the nervousness in his voice.

"Can I please have a gin and juice?" He asks Connor.

You can see him let go of the breath he was holding. His shoulders relax, and he walks off to get the boss a drink.

I look at my phone and it says 11:00pm. Willow only has 30 more minutes to finish up with her boy toy.

Ian checks his Apple Watch to look at something. He swivels in the stool, so that his knees are touching my side thigh. "I'm sure you have a name, but I want to call you Gin. Its my favorite vodka, and you have been my favorite site this whole night."

Wow. He really has no idea who I am. But holy hell is he good looking.

Connor comes back with Ian's drink, but his is orange instead of red. Ian takes the drink from Connor without a straw, and puts his lips on the rim of the tall glass. I see his Adam's apple move up and down as he swallows his mixed drink.

"Would you like another one Miss?" Connor asks so sweetly

I'm not sure if I can handle a third glass. Beth's drink really put me on the edge. I can't even feel my toes even a little bit, and my fingers tips are starting to feel fuzzy. But this is the whole experience of going out, so why not take the opportunity. It's free anyways.

Before I can even answer Ian chimes in still holding onto his own glass, "Gin would love another one. Thank you Connor."

He puts his glass down on the bar top, and turns his full attention on me.

It's strange to see that someone is so interested in me.

"So Gin, what do you do for living?" Ian asks me as he propers his right elbow on the cushion that is lined around the whole bar top to get closer to me.

It truly seems like he wants to know more about it. But since I didn't tell him who I am, might as well tell him some sort of truth, and then hopefully he can figure it out on his own.

I lay my folded arms on the cushion, and turn my head to look at him. "Well for once, it would be nice to know your name. Or are you Mr. No Name?" I giggle at my comment. Then I instantly regret doing it, since it makes me sound like a little school girl.

However, Ian doesn't seem to mind. His eyebrows raise, and he smiles once again at me.

I wish Rip had this much personality. Why can't I stop thinking about him?

"The name is Ian." He says taking his drink in his hand again.

"Connor, where is Gin's drink?!" Ian shouts so that Connor is able to hear his question over the loud trap music that is playing.

Connor jogs over to us, and hands me two fish bowl sized drinks. Ian looks at Connor a little confused, and I look at Ian and smirk.


"I can barely handle the two drinks that I had tonight, and you think I can handle two of these fish bowl things? Thank you for believing in me, but I can't. Hahaha." I say to Ian, as Connor just stands there awkwardly.

I didn't realize that alcohol can make someone so giggly. All I want to do is laugh.

"Miss Gin, a guy bought you these drinks." Connor confesses to us. Ian looks at me and slowly nods his head.

"What guy?" Ian asks Connor. Setting down his drink once again.

"Not sure boss. He had a lot of tattoos." Connor says, and he walks away to get the clean glasses back on the shelves.

Would Rip send over these? For what?

"I guess you have a secret admirer." Ian says to me.

We both burst out laughing. For whatever reason I feel pretty comfortable with him. Willow's absence doesn't seem to bother me anymore.

I grab the blue fish bowl first. At this point during the night, it wouldn't of even mattered what was in my drink, I was going to drink it regardless. Right as I am about to put the straw in my mouth, Ian slides the drink toward him. I give him a pout.

"Hey, that was mine." I whine.

"Easy Gin. I want to try it first, just in case your stalker is trying to pull one over on you." Ian says at he places the straw between his lips.

I don't know if the alcohol is warming my heart, or his concern for me my well being is.

I smile at him. "Seems okay to me. Tastes just like blue raspberry. You can't even taste the vodka. Connor is a good bar tender, even it he comes off as a little flat." Ian says as he slides the drink back to me.

Connor did make the drink. Does he think Connor is in on something with mystery man? Oh well. I'm too buzzed to really care.

I giggle as I put the straw between my lips now. I sip slowly to take in the blue raspberry taste, after all its my favorite flavor of candy. I can't help but smile when I drop the straw from my kissers.

I wonder if Ian tastes like blue raspberry. I hope I found out by the end of the night.

He starts to crack his knuckles, and it breaks me out of my trance about wanting to know what he tastes like. "So, are you going to answer my questions?" Ian says as he gives me a flirtatious smile.

I think about to the questions that he had asked several minutes ago.

He spins my stool so that I could face him. Our knees are touching now, and we each have one another's full attention. "I currently work at a coffee shop full time. I'm waiting to hear back from a school to attend their nursing program." I say to Ian.

I thought about telling him lies, but I kinda want to see him again. Mason and Rip can't keep controlling my life anymore. I have finally decided that my feelings for Rip don't matter anymore. He will never see me anymore than his best friends little sister, and I don't want to waste my life away hoping he will feel the same way that I do.

I turn my head to the left to grab my drink, and I can feel Ian's nut brown eyes still on me. I put the straw once again in my lips, and I smile into my drink. With all the alcohol that I consumed in such a short amount of time I haven't thought about what Willow said to me earlier, "Rip never liked Ian. Especially since he got his sister knocked up."

I start to choke on my drink, and Ian lightly taps on the middle of my shoulder blades.

Fucking A.
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