Page 743 of End Game

He thinks the DJ is about to start our first dance.

Then the microphone comes alive.

Austin Fletcher walks onto the small stage carrying an acoustic guitar.

Dex freezes beside me.

His head turns toward the stage, then slowly back toward me.

“No.”

I smile.

His eyes widen. “No fucking way.”

Austin laughs into the microphone. “Congratulations, man.”

Dex stares at me. “You did this?”

“I called him.”

“You called Austin?”

“Yes.”

“You hate calling people.”

“I do.”

That seems to affect him more than anything else.

Austin doesn't make a production of being there. He explains that the song started as something he wrote for someone he loves, and that I asked whether he'd be willing to change a couple of lines for two people who understood the point of it.

Then he plays.

Just his voice and an acoustic guitar.

The arrangement sounds almost nothing like the music he's known for. Softer. Stripped down enough that the melody has nowhere to hide.

Dex's arms settle around me.

Mine wrap around him.

For once, he doesn't talk.

His cheek presses near mine while we move slowly across the floor, and I feel his breath change when one of the altered lines lands.

I don't look at anyone else.

When the song ends, Austin hugs Dex, congratulates both of us, and makes his exit before the room can turn his appearance into something bigger than the wedding.

Dex watches him leave.

Then he turns back toward me. “You're fucking ridiculous.”

“You wanted a memorable first dance.”

“I love you.”