The moment Roxana's frustrated eyes climbed up and identified the owner of the hand pinning her precious bottle, her grip around its neck tightened considerably.
Not quite enough to shatter the glass. Yet. The bottle was currently surviving on borrowed time and her last shred of patience.
"What do you think you are doing?" she hissed, every word soaked in enough venom to drop a lesser man on the spot.
Jax answered with a dramatic flair and that infuriating smirk of his. "What am I doing? The same thing I do every single day, Roxana. Babysitting. Except my favorite assistant professor has apparently downgraded her venue to a wine lounge, and the subject on today's syllabus appears to be advanced self-destruction."
He tilted his head toward the graveyard of bottles on her table. "So my professional duty is compelling me to intervene. Because there has been more than enough assault on your poor liver for one day"
