New Year’s Eve
LAINEY
“It already has half a million views.”
My mouth drops open, my stomach knotting as I look at Jan. “You’re kidding me?”
Jan shakes her head with a huge smile on her face. “The video was hot, if I do say so myself.” Jan’s responsible for filming and editing the video. “Way hotter than any Ben did by himself.”
A flush rushes through me, unable to believe so many people have seen the sexy video. Ben hadn’t made a Bare-chested Bartender video since before Thanksgiving. And after we officially got together on Christmas, he told me he didn’t want to do them anymore. He wants to shift away from the playboy image. However, Red Poppy’s Instagram page was flooded with comments and DMs wanting the next video.
So, we sat down and tried to figure out a way to keep the videos without Ben feeling like he needs to be a sex object to make his bar succeed. What we came up with so far is Red Poppy only posts one video a month, unless he wants to do more. And while the video will still have sexy vibes, he’s going to keep his shirt on, and he’ll slowly transition the posts so they aren’t all blatant thirst traps. Some of the other bartenders are going to start participating, too, making the video any way they’d like.
But before we start implementing these changes, Ben had an idea for how to end the year. He wanted to make one last sexy video—with me.
“I want everyone to know I’m taken, that I’m yours. What better way to do that than with the introduction of your cocktail?” he’d said yesterday after he’d told me he was adding The Lainey, a bourbon-based drink, to Red Poppy’s permanent menu. This was right after he presented me with a pretty pink cocktail topped with egg white foam in a coup glass, declaring it was mine. The cocktail includes Limoncello and cranberry bitters, among other juices, but I loved how it wasn’t only my cocktail, but included parts of our story, too.
Then he told me his idea for the video, and I couldn’t help but love it. Never did I imagine it would get so much attention in just four hours.
Ben returns from the back room with a box of booze in his arms. He’s made sure to have all hands-on-deck tonight so they don’t drown like they did last year. However, we don’t anticipate a pot gummy-induced fake heart attack.
“Ben, it’s hit half a million views,” Jan squeals. “Wait. We’re almost to 750k.”
His eyes round as he sets the box down. “No way!” He looks at me and I can tell he’s trying to gauge my reaction. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. It’s fast.”
“Faster than what I’ve ever gotten, but this video was way sexier.” He gives me a hot look, reminding me exactly what happened in his office earlier to celebrate the making of it. My already fired-up body heats even more.
“Behave,” I mouth to him.
He laughs and closes the distance between us to pull me into his arms “Never,” he says before he takes my mouth in a searing kiss. And we kiss. And kiss.
“Oh God, please stop. You’re reminding me that I’ll be slinging drinks and not kissing anyone at midnight.”
We reluctantly part at Jan’s words, but we still have goofy smiles on our faces. Ben hugs me to him as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “I gotta see this.”
He pulls up our video, seeing the insane amount of comments and likes. We browse through the comments, and they don’t disappoint. From naughty to funny, they’re all awesome. Ben plays the video again, and though I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it, I still can’t believe how incredibly sexy it is.
The way he feeds me an orange slice. The way his thumb caresses the bump at the end of a lemon, strategically placed in front of my breasts—and my head falls back as if he’d actually touched my nipple. There are shots of him touching me in various places—his hand on my stomach, around my throat, over my lips—our new wedding bands featured prominently.
This morning, we surprised each other with new rings. Ben’s is solid platinum and mine’s a gorgeous solitaire diamond with an infinity twist band filled with smaller diamonds. I couldn’t have picked out a more perfect ring. Not only does it suit me, it suits us.
The video ends with both of our hands pushing the coup glass toward the camera, the drink becoming the focus as Ben and I blur in the background. Yet it clearly shows Ben’s hand sinking into my hair before he kisses the hell out of me, while my hand fists his shirt and raises it enough to show a hint of skin as words fill the forefront of the screen: The Lainey…Red Poppy’s New Permanent Menu Addition.
“Fuck, my wife is sexy,” Ben says as he presses his lips to my temple .
I laugh. “My husband’s no slouch.”
Ben sets his phone on the bar top and pulls me back into him so our chests are pressed together, his expression suddenly serious. “It’s been a year since you walked through those doors. I would have never guessed that this , I’d be married to the love of my life.”
My heart flutters and I go up on my tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I know.”
“Best year of my life. I can’t wait to start another best year with you, wife.”
“Me either, my husband.”
His mouth quirks up. “I knew charming shirtless bartenders were your thing.”