Page 92 of End Game

He gives me a flat look, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

“So?” I prompt.

Ronan looks up at the clouds again. “I expected him to be more hesitant.”

“Griffin?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you expect that?”

That earns me a look.

“Okay, stupid question.”

“He was nervous beforehand, I think. Not about Cami, or even particularly about me.” Ronan taps ash into the tray between us. “More about not knowing what his role was supposed to be.”

That makes sense.

Griffin likes knowing where the exits are before the building is on fire.

“So you gave him a role?”

“I gave him parameters.”

I laugh quietly. “Of course you did.”

“It worked.”

“I’m shocked,” I deadpan.

“Fuck you.”

“Anytime.” I grin around my cigarette.

Ronan doesn’t bite, but goes quiet again. I can see him working through something in his head.

“He let me lead… for a minute,” he says finally. “Which is mostly what we discussed. He watched. Took cues.”

“Also very Griffin.”

“Exactly.” Ronan pauses. “And then at some point, he stopped needing me. He stopped needing cues.”

There’s something almost pleased in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“He started making decisions.” Ronan looks at me. “Not exactly competing with me. That’s the part that surprised me. There was kind of a game there, a friendly competition where neither of us was actually trying to win. I thought there might be some instinct to reclaim territory once things became real.”

My mouth twists. “You thought he’d go caveman.”

“I thought it was a possibility.”

I contemplate and nod.

“But he didn’t.” Ronan takes another drag. “He just… stepped in. He led. Not in a dominant way, just in a leadership way.”

The smile he tries to suppress tells me considerably more than the words do.