Page 663 of End Game

“Okay, why does this feel like an intervention?”

“Because your baseline behavior makes interventions statistically likely,” Ronan says.

Dex points at him. “That is not very Hundred Acre Wood of you.”

Ronan sets his mug down. “I’m going to go help Griffin with Cami.”

Dex's eyebrows rise. “Costume or emotionally?”

“Yes.”

“Fair.”

Ronan leaves.

Dex watches him disappear, then turns back toward me. “Why are you not dressed?”

“I am dressed.”

His eyes travel over my black jeans and gray shirt. “That's not Eeyore.”

“The ears are over there.”

“You need the tail.”

“I can think of no sentence less dignified than that one.”

“You're dating me. Your dignity died months ago.”

He crosses the kitchen and reaches for Ronan's abandoned tea.

I take it out of his hand before he can drink. “That's not yours.”

“Sharing is caring.”

“He will know.”

“He knows everything. It's exhausting.”

I put the mug back exactly where Ronan left it.

When I turn around, Dex is watching me instead of the tea.

His expression changes slightly.

He knows me too well. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Micah.”

I wipe my palms down my jeans.

Fuck.

I had a plan for this.

I've had a plan for weeks.