A Love Letter to Whiskey (A Love Letter to Whiskey #1-1.5)

by Kandi Steiner

I think that’s when you know you’ve created something magical – when the pain outweighs the pleasure.

One day, whether you are 14, 28, or 65, you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. However, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find— is they are not always with whom we spend our lives. —Beau Taplin

I saw him first, but it didn’t matter. Because he saw her.

I’m not sorry I kissed you,” he clarified, and my eyes found his then. “But I’m sorry I did it when you weren’t mine to kiss.”

— I need you, B. Please. —

My dad died on the day I realized I loved Jamie Shaw.

“Is it okay that I love you back?”

The truth was I believed him when he said he loved me, and I knew he loved me enough to let me bring him down along with me. I could barely get out of bed every day. What kind of person would I be if I let Jamie love me in my condition?

He called me twice a year, every year — once on my birthday and once on the anniversary of my dad’s death.

And so, I chose my last two words carefully. “Drive faster.”

Turned out I was wrong. Turned out I had a rare, deliciously aged bottle of whiskey in my grip, but I let it slip through my slick fingers and crash to the floor.

The most important day of his life, and I would be a supporting actress.

It was wrong — it was all wrong. His lips weren’t as full as Jamie’s, his tongue worked too quickly against mine, his hands were cautious and slow. He didn’t smell like honey and spice, he smelled like paper and ink — which was beautiful, but he just wasn’t Whiskey.

wasn’t sorry the first time I kissed you, even when you weren’t mine, and I’m not sorry I kissed you the other night, even when I wasn’t yours. Because the truth is you’ve always been mine, and I’ll always be yours, and that’s just the way it is.”

So, you see, B was right about a few things when she told you about the first time we met. But she was wrong about one very, crucial point. I didn’t see Jenna first. I saw her. I just didn’t think she saw me.

My attraction to B didn’t strike me like lightning. It didn’t hit suddenly and all at once. It bled into my skin, my muscles, my bones, my soul like an assassin in the dead of night. It was slow, and calculated, powerful and deceiving. And once it had its hands on me, I was forever in its grip.

B huffed, but couldn’t hide the way I was making her smile. I loved that. God, it was like a hit of cocaine.

Because she was mine — whether he knew it or not.

Burying myself inside her or making her moan my name wasn’t what went to the top of my mind. I just… needed her. I needed my best friend. I needed to hold her and be held, to know someone understood, that someone knew how broken I was in that moment.

“Goddamnit, woman. I’ve always chosen you. There has never been another choice for me. You. You, and only you. That’s the choice.”

Love, Whiskey