“Take them.” “No.” “Take them.” “No.” “Yes.” “Did they adjust your medication?” “Not lately, now take them.” “Jesus, Gibs—” “Take the condoms or I’ll make a scene.” “Fine!” Grabbing two fistfuls of foil packets, I shoved them into my pockets and glared at him. “Happy now?” He grinned widely. “You will be—when you’re not caught out in a moment.”
