Fated Series. Book #2
"Be possessive of me, own me, keep me, because if you do then nothing and no one else can." - Maddox.
My name is Maddox Vallero, and I'm dead.
Well, that's not quite true. I'm alive in the breathing, walking, talking sense-but...
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Maddox
I watched Asher, the bartender, closely. "And how do you measure the amount of liquor you're pouring? Just winging it?" I asked, hanging on the edge of the bar counter while he made my drink.
"Nah, I kind of eyeball measure it. It's all about the seconds. You count it out. For example, a steady beat of four seconds, and that's the amount of a perfect shot."
Interesting. "Can I try making my own next time?"
His eyes jerked up at me. "It's your yacht." He responded, sliding the pink drink my way. I'll admit, it's my fourth today. These things were addicting. You barely tasted the alcohol, and it had more of a pineapple taste. When I came over here this morning, moaning about how I'm tired of all the regular cocktails, the bartender, Asher, took it up on himself to make me something new. He outdid himself too, because I think I've found my new favorite drink. Pineapple upside down.
While he made Sophia's drink, I asked a few more questions about bartending just to keep up the conversation. I was halfway done with my drink when he placed Sophia's on the counter. Picking it up, I winked at him. "I'll be back in a bit for a new one."
"I'm going to start watering them down soon."
I chuckled. "Doubt I'll know, or care. I'm here for the sweet taste."
Wiping the counter, he smirked. "And I remember on the first day you came over here telling me you drink only the hard shit."
"I lied. I'm a girly drink kind of guy."
Heading up the stairs and to the top deck, I sipped on the cocktail. Asher even put a little umbrella in it, officially making himself my favorite bartender. I wonder if I could hire him as my personal guy, just so he can keep making me these great drinks. I don't even need the alcohol in it. Plus, I know Sophia's been convincing him to make her green smoothies every morning, and from the way she moans into it every time they must be up to her standards. I'd be jealous, if she wasn't doing the same thing when my dick goes in her mouth. But she does. And five days of just Sophia, the ocean, our yacht, and endless moments together, and I'm floundering in emotions that overtake the irreparably broken part of me.
Seeing Sophia in her wedding dress, walking down the aisle with white and green flowers on both of her sides, a gorgeous smile of her face, it felt like an earthquake was happening. Healing my heart a little, I think. It definitely did something. Because in that moment I felt myself change. Standing there, trying to comprehend how my heart can be so full, so big for this woman that it's not even filled with a spec of me anymore. It's all her. I swore in that moment I didn't care what I had to do; I'd be the man she deserves. If she's willing to risk her morals, beliefs, and fears for me, then she deserves the same from me. Whatever she wants, I will do it. I'd fix that irreparably broken part of me even if it means I go to therapy. No matter what, I'll be a man she's proud to have at her side.
