Page 187 of End Game

Even after the guys moved in, pieces of the house still felt temporary.

Then Cami showed up with too many books, diabetic supplies, houseplants, and enough personality to alter the gravitational pull of the entire place.

Everything got louder after that.

Messier.

A lot fucking harder.

There were months when I was convinced every choice I made was going to cost me somebody. At first, I was afraid of wanting her. Then I was afraid of losing her. Then I was afraid loving her meant accepting things that would eventually tear me apart. I spent too much time trying to keep the definitions clean because clean definitions felt controllable.

Legal husband. Friend. Roommate.

Mine. Not mine.

I thought if I understood where every line was, I could protect what mattered.

Turns out people don’t give a shit where you draw the lines when they’re busy becoming family.

“Hey.”

I turn.

Cami is standing in the doorway, fingers tracing the necklace on her chest. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyebrows lift.

I laugh softly. “Actually, yeah. I promise.”

She crosses the kitchen and steps into my arms.

After a minute, she asks, “What are you thinking about?”

I look over her head toward the living room.

Dex is trying to attach a bow to Micah’s hair.

Micah is swatting him away.

Ronan is apparently critiquing the placement.

“I used to think this house was too big,” I tell her.

Cami lifts her head and studies me.

“Even after the guys moved in. Sometimes, it still felt like too much space.”

Her expression softens. “And now?”

Dex yells something about artistic vision from the other room. Micah tells him to hold still, as now the bow is going on Dex’s head.

Ronan says the bow is objectively crooked.

Cami laughs.

I swallow past he lump in my throat. “Now it finally fits.”