“You sat there and flirted with him. I might’ve left you alone…” he trails off, and when I glance at him, I see he’s looking thoughtful. “No, I don’t think so. I would’ve killed him at the very least, just to make myself feel better. But then you just looked so damn bored and when I texted, you just lit up. Did you know that?” I do know that, but I don’t really want to say it out loud just to stroke his ego, so I don’t say a word or give him any gesture of agreement. I just trace my fingers over the back of his hand and try not to look too pleased. “I knew right then you were mine.
