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"What do you drink then?" I looked at him accusingly. "Black coffee." he grinned, shaking his Iced Americano. "Want some?" He leaned over the small table, our faces inches apart, the straw nearly brushing my lips. His dark eyes bore into me, his expression teasing and confident. ๐๐ฎ๐ช๐ฃ๐๐๐ฃ ๐ฝ๐๐ง๐๐จ๐ฉ๐/๐พ๐ค๐ก๐ก๐๐๐ ๐ผ๐
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