Page 69 of End Game

Because apparently the appropriate location for a follow-up to discussing a threesome in a BDSM basement is folding towels.

She smiles at me while she matches socks. “How’d the dungeon summit go?”

I lean against the doorframe. “Productive.”

“Anyone die?”

“There might have been a couple casualties.”

She smiles. “Ronan?”

“Me, mostly.”

Her smile fades just enough that I know she’s checking whether I’m actually joking.

“We’re good,” I assure her.

“Okay.”

After a few seconds, she stops matching socks and looks at me with raised eyebrows. “But?”

“No but.”

“Griffin.”

I walk over and take the socks out of her hands before stepping closer.

Her hands settle automatically on my chest.

My eyes hold hers as I speak. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to not answer immediately.”

“That’s ominous.” Her throat works as she swallows.

“It’s not.”

“That’s exactly what someone says immediately before saying something ominous.”

I kiss her forehead.

“Do you actually want me there?”

She stills. “What?”

“With you and Ronan?”

“Yes.”

“You weren’t supposed to answer immediately.”

“That’s a stupid ask when I already know the answer,” she chides.

“Cami.” Something in my voice gets through to her, because the teasing disappears entirely. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” she says almost too quickly.

I run my hands slowly from her hips and up the ladder of her ribs.

“When this was first brought up, you hadn’t been with him yet.”