To Get Him Drunk

Rafał made pasta for us on dinner. Fettuccine with sliced pork beef, broccoli, and a creamy spicy sauce and melted cheese. He also made a Scottish dessert he learned with one of his friends from Oxford, called Cranachan, made of cream, raspberries, a layer of toasted oats, and he also added a bit of whiskey on the cream.

Oh, and you know what else this Greek God of a man made? He made a huge brownie with almond and out it on the fridge to rest the whole night so we can eat in the morning of my last day here. All because I told him my favorite dessert aside from ice cream is brownie with almond, and he decided that he would make me the best brownie I've ever had.

Ugh. I wanna marry this man so bad.

Believe me, I tried to do the cooking, but he didn't let me, saying he wanted to show me his skills first. How could I refuse the possibility of watching this perfect man cooking for me? I could never.

I did make us seven different cocktails though, as he told me he wanted to have some, as he is more used to just drinking the alcohol instead of drinking cocktails. He said his alcohol tolerance is high, and so is mine, so I made seven different ones that I could make because he has the ingredients in here. Rafał literally has thousands of ingredients here. He does has a private bar in here and it's packed.

After we finished his amazing dinner and the dessert, having some strawberry juice to accompany it, it was time for my cocktail abilities.

"What did you make?" He sat on the seat on the other side of the countertop of the bar, which I was behind it. His curious blue eyes looking at the fourteen cups. Seven for me, seven for him. "I didn't know you would manage to make sex different ones with what I have here, love. Did you enjoy making it?"

"I enjoyed a lot," I winked and kissed him softly as he leaned over the countertop. "Let me show you what I made for us," I took a step back. "This one is Sex on the Beach," I pointed at the soft peach colored drink and he gave me a naughty look.

"You didn't made that right, did you?"

Chuckling, I rolled my eyes, "Of course, not, idiot."

"How did you make it?" He tilted his head interested.

"Filled a glass with ice and added vodka, peach schnapps, and orange juice. Then I poured cranberry juice over it. Then I garnished with an orange wedge," I handed him the glass and took a sip from mine. "Taste it. It's a beach drink for summer, but it feels even better to drink on winter."

He took a long sip from it and widened his eyes softly, "Oh, love, this is delicious. You said it's vodka based?"

A nod, "I like vodka drinks the most. I mean, I am Polish, we are famous for our vodka," I winked. "The mix of juices make the difference."

"It certainly does," he took another sip, staring at the glass, surprised that it was this good. "Sex on the Beach certainly tastes delicious, love."

His double meaning made me giggle, "Wanna go for the next one?"

Nodding, he looked at the others and pointed at the one I poured on two of his collection of ten copper mugs, "What's that one, love? Looks interesting. It's the only one you didn't put in a glass."

"This," I picked both and handed his to him, "is the famous mug-dwelling drink called Moscow Mule. It's made of ginger, vodka, lime, and soda," I took a good sip of it. "Pretty good."

"You sold me on lime and soda," he giggled and took a generous sip of it, then licked his lips. "Uh-huh, I like this one better than the other. It's delicious, love," then he proceeded to drink all of it and I giggled, drinking mine too. "It really is a good combination. The scent of the ginger is also delicious."

"Right?" I put it down and turned to the others. "Which one now?"

"Which one do you think I'll like the most out of the seven, love?"

I pointed at the yellow drink in a rocks glass with a big cube of ice inside, "This one. Want to drink it now or leave it at last?"

"Best at last," he winked and pointed at the slim glass. "What's that dark purple one?"

"This," I handed his to him and picked up mine, "is Sangria."

His eyes widened softly, "Oh? I've heard of this before, my mom drinks this sometimes. Smells good."

"Not surprising, as your mom is Spanish and Sangria came from Spain and Portugal."

"How did you made it, love?"

"It was the first one I made it actually, since it's good to stay a longer time in the fridge, compared with the others. In a pitcher, mix together red wine, orange juice, brandy, and granulated sugar. Stir in sliced oranges, sliced apples, blueberries, and strawberries. I like to use green apples instead of red ones, and thankfully you had it here. Then you refrigerate until it's ready to serve, and top it off with seltzer before serving," I took a sip from it. "It's delicious."

"Strawberries too?" He beamed and took a long sip of it. "Oh, wow, it is delicious."

"Right?" I giggled.

"I have a question, love," he tilted his head.

"Voice your thoughts," I leaned closer.

"You said you want to have tattoos too, right?" A nod. "What do you plan on tattooing and where?"

Oh? That's a good question. "Mm, I've only decided on three, but I want more. A serpent along my spine, a pomegranate on my inner right wrist, three little dragons flying from my right hip up to my ribs."

"The last one would be a matching tattoo with your best friend, right?" Nod. "And why a pomegranate? Is it related to Persephone from Greek Mythology?"

I can't believe he got that. "Yes!" I beamed. "Persephone and Hades is my favorite Greek tale of all, and I'm addicted to everything made on that. Like retellings of it and all. So, I wanted to make a tattoo that symbolizes them, and the pomegranate works. After, it was because she ate 6 seeds of a pomegranate that she was bound to the underworld, and thus stayed with Hades!"

A soft grin curled up his lips. "I get that. In fact, I also adore those retellings of this tale in particular. I have many books on it, that's why the first thing I thought when you told me about the pomegranate tattoo, was Persephone. You will love majestic with tattoos, love."

"You think so?" I felt my cheeks heating up.

"Absolutely, without a doubt!"

After I kissed him one more time, I tilted my head, "Which one now?"

He pointed at orange colored drink in a long glass. "That one looks simpler than the others, what is it?"

That got me grinning, "It's actually the most complex out of all the seven. There's two steps for making it and the name is a diversion. Have you ever heard of Long Island Iced Tea?" I leaned closer to him.

He frowned, "Wait. Long Island Iced Tea is alcoholic? My best friend used to drink this all the time when I met him, and I always thought it was just a tea. Oh my God, I even mocked him saying our teas were way better than that thing."

I covered my lips to contain the laugh, "Oh no. You were fooled, Rafał. There's literally more than three different alcohols in this," I picked the glass up and handed to him, than picked mine. "Your best friend is so mean to never have told you the truth," I choked on another wave of laughter. "Oh my God."

"Is there even tea in this thing?" He stared at it in pure shock.

I licked my lips, "Not at all."

"I'm going to kill that bloody bastard," he growled and turned to me. "What's in this, love? How did you make it?"

"It's the divided in two steps. The sour mix and the actual alcoholic cocktail."

"It doesn't look like much, but seems like the looks are as deceiving as the name," he scoffed, bitterly and I chuckled again. "Love, stop laughing," he pouted, making me laugh more.

"Sorry, it's just cute."

Rafał gasped, blushing hard, "It's not cute!"

"Yes, it is," I brought him closer to me again and kissed him, tasting the cocktails in his lips. "Your best friend must be having the time of his life because you still believed this even after what? 12 years?"

He gasped again, "Aye, love, stop."

Cute. "Aye, fine," I winked at him.

"Tell me how you did this!" He pouted and I felt tempted to kiss those lips again, but I held it back.

"For the sour mix, pour water and granulated sugar into a small saucepan and place over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil and whisk until the sugar has dissolved. Set aside to cool. Once cooled, combine simple syrup, lemon, lime, and grapefruit juices. Store the sour mix in the fridge and go to the other part. It was the second thing I did here after the Sangria, and then, after I was done with the other five drinks, I went back to make the actual cocktail."

He stared at the cup in surprise, "So, lemon, lime, and grapefruit juices?" A nod. "And the cocktail?"

"For the cocktail, into a shaker, pour in gin, rum, tequila, vodka, triple sec, and the sour mix. Top with ice and shake until thoroughly chilled. Strain into a glass filled with ice and top it with Coca Cola to taste. Then garnish with lemon," I tilted my hand and took a long sip of mine. "It's one of the drinks I love to make the most."

Rafał gasped, "Rum, tequila, vodka, and triple sec? Bloody hell, what has that idiot been drinking at 14?! He literally had this every day. I'm shocked," and when he took a sip of it, his blue eyes widened. "It's insanely good."

His adorable reaction made me laugh even more, "It is, isn't it? To think you thought this really was a tea."

"In my defense, it is called an iced tea!"

"Names can be deceiving, Rafał," I chuckled again. "See? Take this as an example," and he really took it, as he drank the full cup. So, I offered mine to him, since I only drank half, "Want more?"

He pressed his lips together, "Are you sure?"

I tilted my head amused, "I can make more of I want more, take it. I'm happy that you enjoyed it so much."

Thankfully, he didn't questioned it again and took my glass, than drank it all. "I'm so going to kill him for not insisting in making me drink it and for lying, ugh. That bloody wanker."