Simmer Down - Sarah Smith Page 0,58

hollers after her before taking a long sip. He wipes his wet lips with the back of his hand, eyes on me the entire time.

I’m giggling as I reach for the bottle and take a swig for myself. I swallow. “What would a champagne-drinking contest entail?”

He grabs another bottle and leads me to the nearby living room of his open-concept condo. With the minimal furnishings of a four-person dining table, microfiber sectional, coffee table, and wall-mounted flat-screen, his condo is considerably roomier than mine. The condo I share with Mom boasts less square footage, yet we’ve got twice the amount of furniture in our living and dining rooms.

He plops on the couch and pats the seat next to him. I cuddle into him, and he hands me the freshly opened bottle.

“We watch one episode of The Office US, then one of The Office UK.” He flips on the TV. “Whoever finishes their bottle first during those two episodes wins.”

I nudge him with my elbow. “Not fair. We both just took a drink from your bottle.”

He rolls his eyes, still smirking. Then he swipes my bottle and takes a five-second-long chug before handing it back to me. “There.” He huffs a breath, chest heaving. “We’re even. You ready?”

I squint at him. “What does the winner get?”

“Sexual favors from the loser.”

I tap my bottle against his. “Bring it.”

* * *

• • •

Ten minutes into the pilot episode of The Office UK, I’m all giggles and my bottle is three-fourths empty. The alcohol and the bubbles have gone straight to my head. Callum’s got just a few gulps left, though, which means I’m for sure losing this contest. I don’t care though. Tucked under his shoulder, his arm wrapped firmly around me as I’m comfortably tipsy, I’m winning by a long shot. I get to cuddle with Callum, then ravage him in bed. Something stirs inside me. Not warmth, not even comfort, but something deeper.

“You know something? I think I like the American series better,” I say.

“No surprise there.”

“Let me guess. You prefer the UK version.”

He takes a long swig of champagne. “Of course. The original is always superior.”

I shake my head before leaning so close to his face that we’re almost touching noses. “No way. Have you ever had Extra Crispy KFC chicken? Way, way better than Original Recipe.”

“If you say so.”

I cross my arms. He kisses the tip of my nose, and I burst into a smile.

“You’re adorable when you’re petulant,” he says.

I fall back against the couch and take another gulp of champagne. I gaze up at him.

“And you’re adorable with this whole romantic champagne setup.”

He peers down at me. “Romantic?”

“Anytime there’s pink champagne involved, it’s romantic.”

“Not sure if I agree with that.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you drink pink champagne with your brother? Or your friends?”

He shakes his head.

“Point proven.” I take a gulp and feel the slightest bit dizzy. I focus back on the TV. “So tell me, Mr. Pink Champagne. Did you prefer Jim’s grand gesture of surprising Pam with a house in the US version? Or did you like Tim’s quiet gesture of gifting Dawn new art supplies during the UK version’s Christmas special with a note encouraging her to pursue her dreams?”

My tipsy and random question doesn’t seem to faze Callum at all, because he replies immediately. “Jim, hands down. I’ve got a soft spot for grand gestures.”

“Really? I would have never guessed.” I hiccup. “I liked Tim’s style better. Sweet and thoughtful but also low-key.” I beam up at him. “Look at us, switching allegiances so quickly. Just a minute ago you were ready to toss me off the couch because I admitted I liked the American version better.”

He runs his hand up my bare leg.

Eyes closed, I let out a satisfied hum. “This was a great idea.”

He peers down at me then glances at my bottle, a smirk on his lips and in his eyes. “You think so? Even when you’re about to lose?”

I shrug and take another gulp. “I still get to fool around with you at the end of this, you sexy, sexy man. I’m the real winner in that sense.”

Just then Lemon jumps on the couch, cuddling between the two of us. He pats her plump pregnant stomach, which triggers an idea.

“Hey, I was thinking. We should work out some sort of custody agreement for Lemon.”

“How so?”

“You took care of all of her medical bills. You should get to keep her part of the time. We could do the

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