Page 113 of End Game

Yeah, that’s the reason.

“You know,” she says, stealing another one, “this was a really good date.”

I smile at her.

Her shoulder bumps mine. “You look surprised.”

“I’m not surprised. I’m basking.”

“In what?”

“My overwhelming success as a boyfriend.”

She hums thoughtfully. “I’d give you a solid seven.”

I turn to stare at her. “Out of seven?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Ten.”

“Take it back.”

She laughs, and fuck, I like this.

I like her.

I mean, obviously, I like her. We’ve been doing whatever the hell this is for months. But sitting here with her tucked against my side feels different somehow.

There isn’t another voice cutting in. Nobody stealing the joke before I can make it. No Micah across from us giving me that little smile when one of us says something ridiculous.

It’s just her shoulder against mine. Her hand stealing my fries. Her laugh that belongs entirely to whatever stupid thing I just said.

I like having something that’s ours.

“You still owe me a question,” Cami says.

Fuck.

I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to that bet.

“I was hoping the deep-fried cheese would make you forget.”

“You underestimated me.”

“Clearly. Fine. Hit me.”

She doesn’t even have to think about it.

“Why were you nervous about tonight?”

My mouth opens.

Closes.

Goddammit.

“Who said I was nervous?”

She tips her head. “Dex.”