I head into the kitchen and grab the lone, half-empty bottle of water from the fridge and take a sip, letting my lips linger at the mouth for a moment. And, for the billionth time today, I wonder why he asked me to drink so much water before coming. It freaked me out when I first read the text. Hell, it’s still freaking me out now. As much as I hate to admit it to myself, though, underneath all the nervousness and anxiety, there’s also…something else.

Curiosity, maybe? I dunno.

My tongue instinctively pushes into the hole, blocking the opening and stopping the water from flowing into my mouth. Without thinking, my eyes flutter closed and I relish in the wet, cool sensation for a few seconds, and before I even know it, my brain shocks me by imagining Frost’s lips and tongue on the bottle, sipping the water down…only to hold it in his mouth and release it into mine.

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