Page 67 of End Game

“I’m just trying to think of when that might be. I don’t think anything will bother me.”

“Maybe, but it might. That’s why we’re discussing it,” he explains.

Fair.

“I’ve seen some of that between you,” I admit.

He nods. “You’ve seen pieces of it.”

There is something about the way he says that that sends a little jolt through me.

Because he’s right.

I’ve watched relatively tame moments.

I’ve heard stories.

Everything in me sobers slightly as I ask, “And if I find out I hate watching you touch her?”

His answer comes immediately. “We stop.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

I study him. “You’re not going to be pissed?”

“Disappointed, probably.” He shrugs. “Pissed? No.”

“And if Cami doesn’t want it to stop?”

“Then Cami and I can do something another time. The three of us only work if all three of us want to be there.”

“Okay.”

Ronan nods before continuing. “My boundaries are another thing. I worry about it with you the least, but you were there for the conversation about touch.”

“I get it. Don’t touch you.”

“Not quite.”

I look at him questioningly.

He smiles and says, “If we’re both touching Cami, incidental contact is probably going to happen. I can anticipate that. What I don’t want—which, again, I’m not so worried about with you—is you deliberately grabbing me, coming up behind me, putting a hand on my back or anything I can’t track visually.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a Dex problem,” I joke. “But okay.”

Ronan huffs a small laugh. “If for some reason you need to touch me, make sure I can see it coming or tell me first.”

“Ronan,” I say incredulously, “I’m not planning to grope you.”

He gives me a flat look. “That’s not what I said.”

“I know.”

“And being straight doesn’t prevent you from putting a hand on my shoulder if you’re trying to move around me.”

That is also fair.