Page 447 of End Game

Then Griffin's.

Micah's.

Ronan stays dressed longest, which Dex notices almost immediately.

“You planning to supervise?”

“No.”

“You're standing there like a disappointed museum curator.”

“I am attempting to determine where I can sit without putting my knee into someone's lumbar spine.”

“Hot.”

Ronan takes off his shirt.

Dex goes quiet.

I burst out laughing. “That worked.”

Ronan's mouth curves.

Dex points at him.

“Don't be pleased with yourself.”

“I said nothing.”

“Your nipples did.”

There is a full second of silence.

Then Griffin laughs so hard he has to bend forward.

Ronan closes his eyes. “Sometimes,” he says carefully, “I understand why violence appeals to people.”

Dex looks delighted.

God, I missed this man.

Dex brings his own weather—and I missed the storm.

And I missed the storm.

I climb onto the couch next to Dex.

Micah settles behind him.

Griffin sits beside me, one thigh pressed along mine.

Ronan eventually takes the wide armrest, his hand resting lightly against Micah’s thigh.

For a while, there isn't really a center.

Nobody organizes us.

Dex kisses me.