“Savor it then. I’m not buying you another cup.” Lifting the glass from my hands, he takes a small sip, and I’m thoroughly entranced by the intimacy of the action. He swallows, setting it back down on the table. “I like the taste, too, but it’s a bad idea waiting to happen if you approach it like it’s not something that very regularly and very commonly ruins lives.” His finger circles the rim—where I sipped, where he did, again and again, drawing the places our lips touched together. “You don’t play with fire unless you have a strict plan and set of rules in place to stay safe. I let myself
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