Page 256 of End Game

At least externally.

“Austin fucking Fletcher.”

Austin laughs and pulls him into a hug.

I can’t help but say, “He has you saved in his phone just like that.”

“Austin fucking Fletcher?”

“Obviously,” Dex answers.

“You're an asshole.”

“I've been told.”

Austin greets Micah, then me, easy and familiar enough that I remember immediately why meeting him in Denver felt strange.

He's famous.

Really famous.

But in person, he mostly feels like a human being who happens to have millions of people interested in what he does.

A woman is sitting on one of the couches with a laptop open across her thighs.

She looks up.

Austin's entire expression changes.

That must be his girlfriend.

“Guys, this is Megan.”

No last name.

No explanation.

Dex told us before we came that Austin and Megan are keeping their relationship quiet, and that whatever we see here stays here.

Megan closes her laptop and stands.

She's younger than I expected.

Pretty, but not in the glossy, professionally styled way my brain associates with famous men's girlfriends. Jeans. Boots. Messy ponytail. A reusable water bottle covered in environmental stickers.

She hugs me almost immediately. “Thank God.”

I laugh. “Why does everyone say that when they meet me lately?”

“Because I've been around musicians all day.”

Austin looks offended. “Cliodhna,” he breathes in fake warning.

Megan glances at him. “You know what you've done.”

His mouth curves.

Megan looks back at me. “Do you like trees?”