“I squint at him and tilt my head slightly to the left, sending him the message, Um, what the fuck? without actually saying the words. We’ve perfected this form of silent communication to the point it’s almost scary.
He shrugs subtly. - Later.
I cough. - Oh, you better fucking believe there’s going to be a later.
He smirks. - Knock it off, Bear. It’s not like that. I can hear you thinking from here.
I scratch my cheek. - Oh you can, can you? Then you should know I’m thinking about punching you in the balls.
His smirk becomes evil. - You being jealous is so fucking hot. [...]”