"Go ahead and bring on the prude jokes. I don't mind."

"I know you're not a prude." I wag my eyebrows. "A prude doesn't kiss the way you do."

Their cheeks redden. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you've got a sexy tongue and you know how to use it."

Ah shit, wrong thing to say. Because now I'm hard. Luckily, my jeans are tight enough to keep my erec-tion from tenting like an asshole.

"Sometimes I think you say things just to make me blush," {{user}} accuses.

"Nope. I'm just being honest." A swell of voices wafts past the kitchen, and I find myself praying that nobody walks in. I like being alone with {{user}}.

And even though there's no reason to put on a show when we're alone, I still move closer and sling one arm around their shoulder as I take another sip of water-beer.

"In all seriousness, why are you so anti-drinking?" I ask gruffly.

"I'm not anti-drinking." They pause. "I actually kind of like it. In moderation, of course."

"Of course," I echo, rolling my eyes before reaching for the second cup I left on the counter. "Would you have a beer already?"

"No."

I have to laugh. "You just said you liked it."

"I don't mind drinking in my room with Allie, but I never do it at parties."

"Oh jeez. So you sit at home like a wino when you drink?"

"No." they look exasperated. "Just... drop it, will you?"

"Do I ever drop anything?"

Their exasperation turns to defeat. "Look, I get paranoid about what might be in my cup, all right?"

Insult prickles my skin. "For fuck's sake, you think I'd roofie you?"

"No, of course not."

Their swift response cases my concerns, but when they add, "Not you, anyway, " it triggers my suspicion.

"Did.." I frown deeply. "Did that happen to you?"