My scoff is chock-full of derision. “I take back my air kiss, Hermie. There’ll be no more air kisses for you.” Herm’s arrogant amusement instantly shifts to affront. At first I think it’s because of the new nickname I just lobbed at him, but then he presses a hand protectively over the non-existent pocket where he deposited my non-existent kiss. “You can’t do that, Biscuit,” he petulantly argues. “This is mine fair and square!”
