Page 78 of End Game

It’s probably supposed to make this easier. Maybe a month ago, it would have. Hell, ten minutes ago, it might have.

But all I can hear is what he said downstairs.

Don’t treat me like I’m borrowing her from you.

And somehow, without meaning to, he’s either doing it to himself or treating me as if I’m borrowing her from him.

I look at him. “No.”

Cami’s eyebrows shoot up.

Ronan’s expression barely changes, but I know him well enough to catch the surprise.

“You don’t get to lend her to me either,” I answer the unasked question in his eyes.

For a second we’re all quiet.

Then the corners of Ronan’s mouth lift.

Cami looks between us. “I feel like I missed a meeting.”

“You did,” I tell her. “The dungeon summit.”

She smiles. “Was there a slideshow?”

“Several pie charts,” I tease.

“Griffin.

I smile, but turn my attention to Ronan.

Something in the room has shifted. Something between us has shifted.

The nerves are still there, but they aren’t running the show anymore.

Because I am confident in the fact that this isn’t Ronan letting me into something.

And it sure as hell isn’t me supervising him with my wife.

It’s the three of us—together. And that is the entire fucking point.

“So,” Ronan says slowly, “what do you suggest?”

There’s something about the question that feels like a challenge. Maybe he doesn’t mean it that way—but it doesn’t matter. Because apparently some deeply buried part of me has been waiting for exactly that.

I look at Cami.

She’s still sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching us like she has absolutely no idea what just happened but would like front-row seats.

Offering my hand to her, I quietly say, “Come here, baby.”

Her eyes widen.

Ronan inhales sharply.

Cami uncrosses her legs and slides off the mattress.

She comes directly to me.