The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,482

sidekick.” Wren smiles for a second, but it quickly fades. “You followed me to college, to New York. You’ve been my roommate for about ninety percent of my entire life.”

I nod. “Which is why I need to do this. You’re moving on to the next chapter of your life, with Chauncey, and I need to do the same. It’s time for me to see what else is out there.”

My sister’s lower lip trembles. The number of times I’ve seen Wren cry I can count on one hand. She’s tough as nails, always has been. It takes a death or a real tragedy to get her going, so the fact that she’s this upset over me moving away breaks my heart.

Going to her side, I wrap my arms around her. “I’ll only be a red-eye away.”

Wren laughs, burying her face in my shoulder, and I realize now, at age twenty-five, that maybe I haven’t always been the tagalong little sister. Maybe she’s always needed me just as much as I needed her.

“You and Chauncey are going to have a beautiful life together,” I say. “And I won’t miss a single milestone, I promise. You won’t even realize I’m three thousand miles away. It’ll be like I’m right here, blowing up your phone with cat memes and asking you what you’re making for dinner that night.”

Wren pulls away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Just promise you’ll all come visit,” I say, “as much as humanly possible.”

Wren turns away, swatting her hands at me. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. God, why am I so emotional all of a sudden? Let’s talk about you. When are you seeing Ace again?”

“This Friday.” My face lights at the mention of his name.

Twenty-Seven

Ace

* * *

“This is probably the only time you’ll ever hear an instructor say something like this,” the man in the front of a makeshift classroom in the center of Prohibition Bar shoves his thick black glasses up his pug nose, “but it’s perfectly okay to be buzzed in my classroom. Notes will be emailed. The most important thing tonight is that you get some hands on experience and that you have fun.”

I glance at Aidy to my right, standing there in a little black dress that hits mid-thigh. She looks at me, lifting her shoulders to her ear and grinning. A loose strand of blonde hair falls in her face, the rest of it pulled back with some sparkly headband contraption that makes her glow under the soft lights above.

It’s dark inside Prohibition, dim lighting and Duke Ellington playing from hidden speakers. Outside it’s pouring rain, and there’s no place I’d rather be tonight.

Aidy mentioned once that she hadn’t been on a proper date in well over a year, and seeing how we’ve been spending a lot of time together, I thought it seemed like the right thing to do.

I could’ve taken the easy way out. Dinner and a movie. Drinks and a show. But I wanted to be original. I wanted to give her a night she’d never forget. So I called up an old friend of a friend who happens to own this bar in Gramercy that has mixology lessons, and we were able to secure a spot tonight.

The instructor’s assistant walks past our table in the back row, lining up barware and things like stuffed olives and vermouth as well as four recipe cards printed on thick, cream cardstock.

“Tonight, we’ll be learning four recipes,” the instructor says, “first of which will be a classic martini.”

Aidy reaches for the cocktail shaker, taking the lid off and peering inside. “It’s heavier than I thought it would be.”

“Everyone, please check your table and let me know if you do not have one of the following,” the instructor calls out, pacing around the room. “A muddler, a strainer, tongs, a spoon, a shot glass, a mixing glass, and a Boston tin.”

We scan our set up, ensuring we have everything we need, and Aidy gives him a thumbs up when he walks past.

“This is so much fun,” she says, leaning closer and standing on her toes, her breath warm on my ear.

“We haven’t even started,” I whisper.

Her blue eyes are lit, and her mouth is slightly closer than usual since she’s wearing the sexiest pair of red fuck-me heels I’ve ever seen.

“So?” She gives me a wink, her red mouth pursed. Every time I look at that full mouth of hers, I want to kiss it. I’m convinced she wore