“You want…what?” My voice came out a little incredulous, but who could blame me. Jace—who was six-foot-four inches of cocky football muscle—had just ordered what might be the girliest drink on the planet. “You heard me,” he said with a wink, propping an elbow on the counter in a way that had me automatically admiring his bulging bicep…a real problem for sure. “I’m very secure in my masculinity, and it’s a known fact that everything is better with cold foam. Why settle for black tar when I can have the good stuff?” He crooked his finger, and I automatically leaned in closer as if my chin was
...more
yes yes it can
