His mouth falls open. Then understanding dawns, and a slow smile stretches his mouth. “Wait, this is about you being jealous?” I bristle. “No.” “Nuh-uh. You’re jealous.” My jaw sets in a tense line. “I just don’t appreciate all these girls hitting on you when I’m standing right fucking beside you. It’s rude and disrespectful and—” “Makes you jealous,” he finishes, and I feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face. “This isn’t funny.” I attempt to shrug his hand off my arm.
