Page 733 of End Game

Apparently Ronan went shopping.

Of course he did.

Not generic snacks.

Specific ones.

Cami's favorite ice cream.

Micah's preferred chocolate thing from the bakery near his shop.

Griffin's stupid protein-heavy frozen yogurt that tastes like discipline.

My salted caramel ice cream.

Ronan has vanilla bean gelato because even his desserts have a dress code.

There are waters.

Electrolyte packets.

Warm washcloths.

Blankets.

Nobody makes a big deal about it.

Which somehow makes it worse.

Emotionally.

Cami ends up curled against Griffin in one chair, wearing his shirt because apparently clothing distribution follows marital law after combat.

Micah sits beside me with one leg pressed against mine.

I am wearing nothing except my engagement ring and a blanket around my waist.

Ronan has somehow restored his entire appearance to respectable librarian.

I resent him.

Cami reaches across the gap toward Micah.

He takes her hand.

She smiles.

Then Ronan leans over and kisses the top of her head.

Predictable.

Visible.

She tilts toward him.

Micah brushes his fingers through my hair.

I kiss his wrist.