"This is mine!" Rosalind Lowell pouted, like a child guarding her snacks.
"Just a sip," Alaric Davenport replied calmly.
"But you have your own! And you've already drunk so much of it."
Rosalind watched him take a big gulp. It was so delicious that she didn't want to miss a single drop.
"Yours is sweeter."
Rosalind blushed. "Then tell the chef to add more sugar to yours."
Alaric Davenport sat up, lifting his sunglasses. He braced his hands on her lounge chair, leaning down to meet her eyes. "The original is always best."
Looking at him from this angle made Rosalind's heart race. She lowered her gaze to his chest. "Well…"
"Hm? What is it?" His deep voice sent a pleasant tingle through her ears.
"J-Just… order another one and see."
Alaric Davenport stood up. "Never mind. Too much sugar isn't good for you."
With that, he lay back down on his lounge chair.
Rosalind pushed herself up to stand. "Then I'll go ask the chef to…"
