Page 275 of Playing With Fire

“Don't start. Kiley made me wear it.”

“It's festive.”

“It's humiliating.”

“Both things can be true.”

She rolls her eyes and reaches beneath the counter. “Come here. I made you something.”

I approach the bar. “Should I be worried?”

“Probably.” She sets a short glass in front of me.

The drink is creamy caramel in color, with a dusting of cinnamon across the top and three coffee beans arranged near the rim.

I lean closer. “What is it?”

“Amaretto, espresso, a little coffee liqueur, and vanilla cream. Think espresso martini meets amaretto sour, minus the sour.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It's delicious.” I take a cautious sip. The first thing I taste is coffee, followed by almond and a smooth sweetness that lingers on my tongue. “Oh, my God.”

Avery beams. “Right?”

“This is incredible.”

“I know.”

“What's it called?”

She grins. “The Bishop's Temptation.”

I nearly choke. “Avery!”

Of course she did.

Because apparently it isn't enough that the man has taken over my bed, my thoughts, and a concerning percentage of my waking hours.

Now he's invading the cocktail menu, too.

“What?”

“You cannot name a cocktail after Bishop.”

“Technically, I named it after temptation. The Bishop part is just a happy coincidence.”

I stare at her.

She stares back.

Then we both start laughing.

“You're ridiculous.”

“And you're welcome.”

I take another sip. “Seriously, though. You should put this on the menu.”