Page 110 of End Game

Fantastic. My boyfriend has apparently decided violence takes the shape of emotional honesty today.

Laughing uncomfortably, I naturally deflect. “Fucking hell. Warn a guy before you emotionally disembowel him.”

“I love you, Dex.”

My brain freezes for several seconds.

“You can’t just say that while I’m making a joke.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had a whole emotional avoidance strategy going five seconds ago.”

Micah doesn’t fill the silence. Doesn’t rescue me from it either. He just keeps holding my hands while my brain attempts an emergency reboot.

I look up at him and squeeze his hands. “I love you too.”

Micah smiles again.

“Like... a fucking embarrassing amount.”

“I know.”

“Don’t ruin it.”

He laughs, pulls me closer, and kisses me.

A few nights later, I take Cami on a date.

A real one.

Which apparently is something we’re supposed to be doing, and something Micah has been telling me I should do since approximately forever.

Whatever.

The point is, I have a girlfriend, and I’m taking her out.

And because I’m not Micah, I didn’t make reservations somewhere with cloth napkins or buy tickets to a show. I’m not Griffin, so there isn’t an itinerary. And I’m definitely not Ronan, because I’m not about to pretend I’ve carefully orchestrated an evening designed to teach her something profound about herself… or me.

I have a pocket full of quarters, a questionable amount of confidence, and a plan to absolutely destroy her at air hockey.

No reservations. No itinerary. No dungeon map.

It’s romantic as fuck.

“You’re being weird,” Cami says from the passenger seat.

“I am never weird.”

She slowly turns her head and stares at me.

“Fine. I’m always weird. But I’m not being date weird.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Your tone did.”

“My tone said you’re bouncing your leg so hard you’re shaking the whole car.”