Li Qiao blinked and, turning to the side, saw Shang Yu finish the can of beer with his head tilted back.
The man still carried the dampness of a shower, and on his partially exposed chest were several odd scratch marks.
Li Qiao forced her gaze away, rubbing the moisture left on her fingertips, her expression indifferent.
At that moment, Shang Yu set down the beer can and his cool fingertips clamped on her chin, pressing down his handsome face to pass a mouthful of beer to her.
The aroma of the beer filled the space between their lips and teeth, and Li Qiao pursed her lips as the man's words timely rang out, "Drink less ice-cold beer."
Li Qiao raised her eyebrows slightly, "There's no room temperature one at home."
Shang Yu caught her gaze and then walked toward the living room with a lazy stride.
Li Qiao, spinning her barstool, watched him and in a blink, saw him stoop to fetch two cans of room temperature beer from under the coffee table.
Alright then.
