Page 60 of Love is a Game

“So,” he says, voice low, “your place or mine?”

A warmth spreads through my chest and tracks lower. This moment, under this impossibly large tree, freshly plucked from near death by a handsome man who now wants to take me to bed, feels like somethingpure. A rush of life, sharp and electric.

Maybe it’s everything that’s happened tonight. Maybe it’s justhim.

I’m still grieving my mother. Still emotional and raw. But something about the brutality of loss makes me want to live more fiercely—step into myself, take more risks, throw myself into things thatmatter. Even if that thing is a tree, and I am profoundly bad at climbing it.

And right now, Tuckmatters.

Except, it turns out a lot can shift in ten minutes.

Because that’s how long it takes for this whole thing to spin into some kind ofstandoff.

It starts with the condom he doesn’t have.

“Youalwayshave a condom,” I complain.

Tuck crouches above me in my cramped single bed, his hands hitched on the inverted triangle of his hips. I’m captivated—and immensely frustrated.

His brows lift. “Right, next time I rush to rescue an inebriated woman from a tree, I’ll be sure to grab my wallet and essentials first.”

I drag out a breath. “It might make things easier. Anyway, it’s literally next door. Just run and grab them.”

His jaw ticks. “I guess I’m slightly confused. About a couple of things.”

“Oh my god,whatis there to be confused about?” I throw up my hands. “We clearly aim to have sex. Sex requires a condom. Your condoms are next door. This isn’t a riddle, Tuck—just move your ass.”

His mouth tightens as he exits the bed. Folds his arms. “Exactly.”

“Exactlywhat?”

“Well, for starters, as a sexually active modern woman, why don’tyouhave any condoms on hand?”

I roll my eyes. Is this seriously what he wants to argue about at this point in time?

“Because I don’t usuallyneedto. You always—”

“Secondly,” he continues, “I thought you were suddenly committed to having a baby, which, correct me if I’m wrong, kind of rules out birth control?”

A sharp heat flashes up my spine. “Are you serious?”

“And thirdly,” he adds, voice cooling, “if youdohave said baby, you might have to stop outsourcing essentials and learn to carry some yourself. Right now, you can’t even be bothered stocking up on a box of condoms. How’s that gonna play out when you need a whole carload of equipment to care for a baby?”

His words land like a slap.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Because this is way beyond the damn condom now.

And Tuck isn’t just annoyed. He’sfuming.

He never loses his cool. I know, because I’ve spent my whole life trying. Testing his limits, pushing his buttons, searching for how to crack the code to all that confidence and control.

Which means this isn’t about the damn condom.

It’s aboutme. My decision.

I slowly pull myself upward, bringing my knees to my chest, feeling acutely naked, vulnerable.

---