Page 149 of End Game

Ronan points at him. “Hard limit.”

Dex narrows his eyes. “Does hard limit mean something different in this context, Dungeon Daddy?”

“It means one hundred dollars,” Ronan responds, not biting at the innuendo.

“But what if—”

“No,” Ronan counters.

“What if it’s on sale?”

“The amount you spend, not what it’s worth,” I clarify.

“What if I already own it?”

Griffin groans and drags a hand down his face. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

I laugh, and Dex looks entirely too please with himself.

From there, the conversation keeps going.

Stockings. Food. Whether Griffin is going to sleep at all Christmas morning or power through on caffeine and spite. Whether Cami is allowed to make cinnamon rolls or whether we’re ordering them from somewhere that knows what they’re doing.

Outdoor lights tomorrow.

A second extension cord.

No inflatable dragons.

Maybe one inflatable dragon.

Absolutely no inflatable dragons on the roof.

Somewhere in the middle of Griffin explaining why putting an inflatable anything on the roof is a terrible idea, Dex drops onto the couch beside me and puts his feet in my lap.

I rest a hand around his ankle.

Nobody asks about my family.

They don’t ask why they get Christmas Eve dinner while Dex and the others get the spaces between. They don’t point out that I’m planning my holiday around people who don’t actually know me or who any of them are to me.

Dex looks at me.

“You’re for sure home Christmas morning, right?” he asks quietly enough that the others can’t hear.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” His foot shifts beneath my hand.

He sits up and lets his head fall against my shoulder.

A stupid little ache opens in my chest.

Across the room, Cami is trying to convince Griffin that the bushes need multicolored lights because white lights alone are, according to her, “emotionally restrained.”

Ronan is explaining that before anyone buys more lights, we need to know how many strands she intends to connect so she doesn’t create a fire hazard.

Griffin is already looking up outdoor extension cords.