Page 114 of End Game

Apparently everyone in the house has learned that saying my name like that is an effective interrogation technique.

I drag a fry through ketchup while I calculate how badly I want to violate the terms of our agreement.

Unfortunately, Past Dex was very specific about the honesty clause.

Fuck that guy.

“I thought maybe we’d be bad at this.”

“At air hockey?”

I look at her. “Nope. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make your face all soft. I answered the question. The terms did not include emotional follow-up.”

Her smile only gets worse. “We are really good at this, Dex.”

Well… Fuck.

I shove the fry into my mouth before I accidentally say something deep or sincere.

She kisses my cheek.

That does not help.

By the time we pull into the driveway, I’ve mostly recovered.

Mostly.

Cami reaches for the stuffed dragon in the back seat. “You know, I’m pretty sure three air-hockey wins means I get to choose what we do when we get inside.”

“First of all, your record remains under formal review.”

“By who?”

“Me.”

“Convenient.”

I shrug. “That’s how reviews work.”

She gets out, and she’s halfway around the car, when she suggests, “Maybe we should let the dice decide.”

“No.”

Her grin is immediate. “No?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“Why?”

“We’re too mature for that.”

She stares at me.

I stare back.