Page 270 of End Game

“Sorry.” He moves approximately three inches.

Better.

I run my fingers through his hair.

The room settles around us.

Eventually Dex says, “Today was fucking terrifying.”

Micah and I both know he's not talking about the sex.

I keep stroking his hair. “The studio?”

“Yeah.”

His voice is muffled against my chest. “I fucking loved it.”

Micah rolls onto his side. “I know.”

Dex lifts his head. “What if I really love it?”

Micah doesn't even hesitate. “Then you really love it.”

“That is irritatingly uncomplicated.”

“It doesn't have to be complicated yet.”

Dex drops onto his back.

I turn toward him.

He stares at the ceiling. “I felt like I knew what I was doing.”

“You did.”

“No, but…”

“I know.”

He looks at me.

I push up on one elbow. “You belonged there.”

His expression shifts. “Yeah?”

“Dex. You walked into a room with Austin Fletcher, told him his bridge was emotionally lying, called part of his song safe and boring, and then fixed it.”

“I did not fix the whole thing.”

“That's what you took from that?”

“It matters.”

Micah laughs softly. “You were good.”

Dex's eyes get shiny.

He immediately points at both of us.