Page 79 of End Game

I don’t touch her immediately.

That might actually surprise me.

Reaching for her is instinct. My hands find her constantly—her waist, her back, her cheek—some tiny point of contact that reassures both of us that the other is there.

Instead, I let her stop and stand in front of me.

Her gaze searches mine.

“Still very green?” I ask.

A smile starts pulling at her mouth. “Extremely.”

“Good.”

I finally lift my hand and brush my knuckles over her cheek.

Her expression softens immediately.

I know that look.

I know her.

And I know, without a doubt, it is not something I need to protect in a room with Ronan.

Knowing her feels like an advantage.

My eyes flick toward him.

He’s watching me—closely.

“You know,” I say to him, “ we talked a lot about boundaries and everything we could and could not do…”

Ronan nods once as I trail off.

Cami looks between us. “Should I be worried?”

“Yes,” I answer.

“No,” Ronan answers at exactly the same time.

She blinks.

I smile.

Then Ronan actually laughs.

But I’m not finished. “We didn’t talk about one thing.”

His eyebrows lift, and I know he is probably taking this conversation entirely too seriously. While all of us in this polycule prioritize consent, he always has a triple check on it.

“What’s that?”

I slide my hand from Cami’s cheek to the side of her neck, feeling her pulse jump beneath my thumb.

Her eyes stay on mine as I answer, “What happens when we disagree about who knows her better?”

Cami makes a tiny sound.