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“Relax.” I grin at him. “It’s either drink or commit murder. You decide.” Oliver hands me another glass, taking my empty one. “That’s what I thought.”
Death by toilet is one hell of a way to go.
He chuckles low in his throat as he runs his nose along the curve of my neck. “Everything about you is my business.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re stalking her.” Bash smirks like he already knows the answer. “I guess it depends on what qualifies as a stalking.” Bash huffs out a breath. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s that complicated. Probably one of those things where if you have to ask, you’re definitely doing it.”
