Call Me Whiskey

I’ve had the longest crush on my dad’s best friend and tonight, while I’m home from college, I’ll find out if he feels the same way about me…

Pia Monroe
14 min readNov 26, 2021


Depositphotos. Edited by Pia Monroe

It started innocent enough, like most things probably do. A little crush, nothing more, one that begun when I was in high school.

You’d come by and chat with my father in his study, mostly about business while you sipped your whiskey. Two fingers was how Dad poured them although I didn’t know it then. Dad never shared those things with me, the apple of his eye, the one he didn’t want involved in his business dealings. For that, he left to the boys.

But eventually I learned, thanks to you.

Dad was out of town on an emergency but you missed his call so you ended up showing up for your regular nightly chats. Since it was pouring rain outside, I asked you to stay a while. The news reports did say flooding in some areas even if those areas were nowhere where we were.

I led you to his study and we chatted. You asked me which college I had been accepted to (UCLA) and what my major was going to be (Earth and Environmental Science). Unlike my father, you didn’t laugh at that. You thought it was a good choice. You told me environmental analysts paid well.

You said other things, too, but I can’t remember what they were now. All I can remember is how handsome you looked in your suit, your white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, the way you held that glass of whiskey that I poured for you, remarking at how good a job I did.

Whiskey, you said. I should call you Whiskey from here on, but only between you and me.

Oh, yes, please, I almost yelled out loud but I didn’t. I just smiled like an idiot.

You didn’t talk much about yourself. You were so good at asking me questions, always bringing the conversation back to me because you wanted to know, truly know, how I was doing, what I was doing.

I remember the ring around your finger.

I was home from college and you and Dad were going to have your usual weekly chats in his study. But he was running late so he called to tell me to entertain you while he was on his way home and that’s what…



Pia Monroe

Hopeless romantic, writer of erotic love stories and an accidental narrator. All stories are intended for 18+. Find my books on