I can only stare in awe as Brad steals my beer from the table in front of me, guzzling it down without pausing and making frigid eye contact the entire time, as if to assert dominance. He slams the empty glass down on the table and says, "I'll drink you under the table anytime, anywhere, you fleabitten mofo." All I can do is gaze at him, a strange warmth stirring in my chest. "You are a charming creature, Brad."
