“Move over,” he demanded before reaching into his pocket and tossing my cell into my lap. “You should really change the passcode on that. Your mother’s birthday isn’t exactly original.” “Hey,” I protested, hugging my phone to my chest. “Rule number two, no snooping.” “When you keep things from me, I have no choice,” he said in that agreeable tone that made me see red. “You are the most frustrating man on the planet,” I muttered.
