Page 129 of End Game

“I’d like that.”

She already has her calendar open on her phone.

Of course she does.

“Let me give you a couple of possibilities. Holden’s schedule is the one I need to really check.”

“Griffin’s too. And the other have evenings that can get complicated. We have campaign night tonight, so I can ask when everybody’s together.”

“Perfect. And tell me about allergies or anything I need to plan around.”

My phone buzzes with the dates while she’s still talking.

“You’re very efficient.”

“We’re trying to arrange eleven adults in one room. I’m not leaving it to optimism.”

I laugh and tuck the phone away. “I’ll check with the guys and get back to you.”

Chapter sixteen

Behind The DM Screen

Ronan

There are exactly three acceptable reasons to touch something behind my Dungeon Master screen—the house is on fire, someone is actively dying, or I have specifically given you permission.

Dex, apparently, believes there is a fourth.

“I’m just looking,” he says, leaning far enough across the table that his fingers are less than six inches from my notes.

Without looking up, I smack the back of his hand. “You’re touching things.”

“I’m looking with my fingers.”

“That is the definition of touching.”

He pulls his hand back. “Feels ableist toward tactile learners.”

I finally look at him.

He has a Cheshire grin on his face.

“You are not a tactile learner.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ve known you for years.”

“Maybe I’ve been masking.”

I stare at him.

There are at least four responses available to me. None would improve his behavior.

Before I can respond, Micah walks past behind him and catches the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the table.

“Leave his shit alone,” Micah tells him.