I roll my eyes, and he takes the moment to grab the bottle from me. I go to bark out an objection, but stop when all he does is put the bottle to his mouth. He arches a brow as he tips his head back. He swallows with the barest hint of a grimace. “That being said...” He slides the bottle back toward me, lifting a shoulder. “My presence alone seems to drive you to drink, so I don’t think I’m the best fit for the task.” I scoff. “You’re not that fucking special.” He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. “You think I’m special?”
