A just-published book by legal writing expert Bryan Garner paints a new picture of the human side of the late U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, with whom Garner wrote two books in the final decade of the legendary justice's life.

In the intimate book “Nino and Me,” Scalia emerges as an endearingly loyal friend who could also erupt with anger and disdain—emotions that almost ended their book projects and their relationship.

In an interview, Garner called the book “an affectionate portrait” of his friend, stating that “anyone who reads the book and doesn't think better of Justice Scalia would be misreading the book.”

But Garner also said Scalia “liked arguments so much that he injected a great deal of tension into many situations.” Garner added: “Part of being a friend is not pulling any punches if you disagree with something the person has done.”

Garner was able to chronicle “turbulent times” as well as happy ones in their friendship in part because unlike other colleagues of Scalia, he was “not bound by a code of silence”—though he did abide by what he called a “duty of discretion.”

One turbulent moment came in 2011 when Garner suggested in a phone call that the justice should find another word besides “originalism” to describe his judicial philosophy. The justice exploded and nearly shut down their collaboration on a book about legal interpretation.

“Are you losing your nerve?” Scalia asked, according to Garner's account. “Or maybe I should say you have some nerve to call me this way with such a cockamamie suggestion. It's ludicrous.”

Garner quickly apologized, and Scalia did too, stating that “I probably need your forgiveness for my overreaction.”

Scalia was also loyal to his colleagues on the court, but that did not keep him from tucking zingers into his opinions, especially his dissents.

In 2015, Scalia asked Garner for advice on whether he should criticize a fellow justice's writing style in a pending case. Without naming the justice or the case, Scalia said, “I'm thinking about saying I'd rather put my head in a bag than join in such a badly written opinion.”

Garner replied, “Ooh. That stings … In your later years on the Court you don't want to sound bitter. If you sound like a bitter old man, people will discount what you say.”

Scalia said he would think it over—but he used the phrase anyway. It was directed at Justice Anthony Kennedy in a full-throttle dissent in the same-sex marriage case Obergefell v. Hodges.

Garner's book is full of intense, near-verbatim conversations between Scalia and Garner over fine points of grammar, pronunciation and meaning. Stories also abound of Scalia showing kindness toward Garner and his wife Karolyne, interspersed with anecdotes showing a more ornery side— like the time Scalia visited their home and demanded that breakfast include eggs and bacon, cooked the way he prescribed.

Or the time when Scalia scolded Garner for including him in a conversation with a hostile political science professor during a visit to Garner's home. “I'm not happy!” Scalia told Garner after the professor left. “You just wasted an hour of my life!”

The book moves swiftly toward the inevitable end: Scalia's death in February 2016, just days after he, Garner and Garner's wife returned from a two-week trip to Singapore and Hong Kong.

Garner chronicles almost every minute of the Asian tour, full of law school speeches, meetings with dignitaries and adventurous eating. As the time to return home drew near, Scalia said, “I resent having to go back. I just can't see going back to Washington. This has been the most remarkable trip.”

When Scalia died, Garner was crushed. “Life hasn't been the same,” he said. Writing a biography of their friendship was therapeutic, but he had a bigger goal than that.

“A lot of lawyers know Scalia as a justice, as a man who spoke through his opinions. But very, very few people have a real sense of Scalia, the man,” Garner said. “He was a public servant, with integrity, a friend with intense loyalty, a passionate man of principle.”