Page 158 of End Game

Understanding replaces the surprise on Griffin’s face.

“And sometimes I notice,” I continue. “So I make sure we have time alone or that I at least check in.”

Micah nods. “I do some of that too. With everyone. I also am bad about telling anyone when I need something.”

Ronan’s brow furrows. “So the emotional labor itself needs to be balanced.”

Alexis points at him. “Yes. But I also don’t think it needs to become another system you have to maintain perfectly.”

Ronan’s mouth twists.

I smile—she’s already figured him out.

“You’re going to hate this,” she tells him, smiling, “but there is no perfect system.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Her eyes narrow. “You look like you hate it.”

“I do dislike the lack of a solvable outcome.”

Jeremiah laughs quietly. “I understand that.”

Ronan looks at him.

Something passes between them that makes me desperately curious—and honestly a little heat to travel to my core—but I let it go.

Griffin’s hand finds my knee beneath the table. “I don’t want making sure I’m okay to become your job.”

My chest tightens a little. “I know.”

“And if I need something, I’ll tell you.”

Dex leans forward. “Are we getting that notarized?”

Griffin’s head snaps to him. “Fuck off.”

The whole table laughs, including Griffin.

The heaviness breaks without disappearing completely.

That’s nice too.

Nobody solved anything.

Nobody gave us rules.

The conversation just leaves something behind to think about.

Dinner ends, but nobody makes any attempt to leave.

Ethan and Carter start clearing dishes, and before the rest of us can offer, Griffin is carrying plates toward the kitchen with them.

Of course he is.

Holden follows.

Also, of course.