Page 150 of End Game

And the Dickmas Tree glows obscenely in the front window.

None of this is simple.

Five adults with five families, different work schedules, old traditions, new boundaries, people who know and people who don’t. People we’re afraid to tell. People we’re apparently going to have to disappoint.

For a long time, I thought building a life with someone meant fitting them into the empty spaces of the one you already had.

Looking around this room, I’m starting to think that’s bullshit.

Sometimes you have to move things around. An old tradition gets a little smaller because something new needs to exist. You tell someone no because saying yes would mean taking something away from someone else.

Maybe sometimes you look at the calendar and realize there isn’t a single empty space left, and instead of feeling trapped by it, you realize your life isn’t too crowded.

It’s full.

Dex’s fingers find mine where my hand rests beside us.

Across the room, Ronan looks at me.

It’s brief—barely more than a glance—but I feel the pull of it anyway, something warm and confusing settling low in my chest as my brain supplies the memory of his palm against my back and his fingers moving through my hair.

Cami shrieks because Griffin has apparently agreed to the multicolored lights.

The moment snaps.

Dex bolts upright beside me. “Wait. Does that mean I get my roof dragon?”

“No,” Griffin says without looking up from his phone.

“THIS HOUSE IS A DICTATORSHIP.”

I laugh and catch Dex around the waist before he can launch himself off the couch to continue his campaign.

Christmas morning is ours.

And everything else?

We’ll figure out.

Chapter eighteen

Party Of Eleven

Cameron

Alexis neglected to mention that she lives in a fucking mansion.

Not a big house.

Not a wow, you guys have a lot of bedrooms house.

A house that marks the one I live comfortably in with four men seems downright modest, which is impressive considering ours has enough space that I occasionally have to text people to figure out what floor they’re on, let alone what room they’re in.

“Holy shit,” Dex says from the back seat as Griffin pulls into the driveway.

“Thank you,” I reply, twisting to point at him. “I was trying not to be the one who said it.”

“You knew they had money,” Micah reminds me.