Page 109 of End Game

“I’m serious, Micah.”

That gets his attention.

“I’m really your primary?”

His brows pull together. “Yes.”

“Not Cami?”

“No, not Cami.”

And fuck.

My mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

Which is concerning, because usually shutting me up requires either Micah saying my name in that voice or an act of god.

Micah straightens and really looks at me.

“I do love what I have with Cami—what we have with Cami. I don’t want less of it. But what I have with you isn’t the same thing.”

“Because I have a dick? Is it the piercings?”

“Dex.”

“Sorry. Emotional defense mechanism. Continue.”

He steps closer and grabs my hand. “You’re my primary because we’re building a life together, Dex. We have been for a while.”

His fingers wrap around my other hand, and he squeezes both of them. “When I think about the business side of things, I think about you. When I pull into the driveway, you’re the first person I look for. When you’re gone, I miss you.”

Fuck me. No saving throw. Just straight psychic damage.

“I don’t know when exactly that became what we are doing,” he continues. “But it did. Giving it a name didn’t change anything.”

I take a deep breath and gather my thoughts. “Okay, this is going to sound really fucking stupid.”

“Probably.”

“Rude.”

Micah smiles.

I stare down at our hands because looking at him seems like an objectively terrible tactical decision. “I think some part of me still thinks…”

Fuck.

Abort mission. Misty Step. Dimension Door. Fucking Plane Shift. Anything.

Micah waits. Of course he fucking waits.

The words come out fast like I’m trying to stumble over them. “That eventually you’re going to realize you can have someone easier.”

“I don’t want easier.”

I look up and meet those soulful, gray eyes.

“I want you.”