Page 812 of End Game

“Tattoo artists?” Micah asks.

“No.”

“Paramedics?” Griffin adds.

“Also no.”

Ronan watches me over his glasses. “You’re taking it.”

It isn’t a question.

“Yeah.”

His smile is small but immediate. “Good.”

Everyone starts talking at once after that. Griffin pulls me into a hug. Dex demands expensive dinner. Micah tells him my first act as a highly paid executive should not be financing his steak habit.

It takes several minutes before we settle.

I end up perched against the counter beside Griffin, still buzzing.

“Also, I felt a baby move today.”

Dex points at me. “No.”

“What?”

“No baby fever. We cannot add an infant to this house. Ronan would move into the woods.”

“I would not move into the woods,” Ronan says.

“You absolutely would.”

“I require internet.”

I laugh.

Then realize something. “Actually… have we ever really talked about that?”

The room quiets.

“Kids,” I clarify. “Like all of us. Together.”

Griffin’s hand settles against my lower back.

Ronan closes the folder in front of him.

“I’m like ninety-nine percent sure I don’t want them,” I say before anyone can start worrying this is an announcement. “For the record. Alexis is adorable, pregnant. The babies kicked my hand. It was cool as hell. Still no.”

Dex exhales theatrically. “Thank fuck.”

“Subtle.”

“I love children. In theory. At events. Where their legal guardians eventually take them home.”

Ronan nods. “That is approximately my position.”

I look at Micah.