Page 262 of End Game

I like her even more now.

Dex does not stop moving once we're back at the hotel.

He kicks off his shoes.

Paces to the window.

Checks his phone.

Walks to the wet bar.

Returns to the window.

Runs both hands through his hair.

Starts explaining the bridge again.

Stops halfway through.

“Did you hear him say he liked it?”

“Yes,” I tell him.

“I know I heard it. I need independent verification.”

“He liked it,” Micah says from the couch.

Dex nods. “Okay.”

Three seconds later, he starts pacing again.

I sit on the arm of the couch.

Micah watches me.

I watch Micah.

We have a conversation without speaking.

“I think,” I say slowly, “we can find something better to do with all this fucking energy.”

Dex stops.

His eyes darken.

“What did you have in mind, Dollface?”

I smile. “You're the creative one.”

That does it.

He crosses the room in about three strides, catches my waist, and kisses me hard enough that I laugh directly into his mouth.

“There she is,” he murmurs.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”