Page 71 of Love is a Game

I sip my beer, a guilty grin spreading across my face.

“Prick,” Brady mutters, fighting a smile. “That stopped working when I went on the Ritalin, remember?”

I nod. Brady’s ADHD was never a joke, though as kids, we’d mess with him, fascinated by how quickly he could get totally immersed in something new. It was useful in board games if he was dominating, when we argued over who got to be which superhero, or as a way to score the last slice of pie.

“Buddy—you were smart as hell even before then,” I say honestly. “And now? You’re a roaring success in every meaning of the word. Bet you’d love to shove that in Mrs. Maloney’s face.” I remind him of our old math teacher, who once asked if he was good at digging ditches because that was all he could aspire to.

“You know she’s still teaching?” Brady scoffs. “I thought she was old whenwewere in school, and she’s still there! Hope Finn gets her one year. I’d love to show up at the parent-teacher meeting and see what she has to say for herself now.”

We reminisce about the best and worst of our teachers for a while, trading stories with the nostalgia that only comes from half a dozen drinks in. Then Brady waves his arms like clearing a whiteboard.

“Nope. Back to the subject at hand!” He taps his bare arm as if hitting a watch. “You and Pen. Where are things at now? You don’t want her to have a baby. Explain!”

“I told you already. It’s fine that she wants a baby.Notfine that she’s looking at complicated options to do it. That she’s not even considering—” I sigh.

Brady slaps a hand to his forehead, eyes going wide. “Iknewit! You want to father her child! And youtoldher this?”

I nod into my beer.

“And?”

“She suggested we’d ruin a kid by having different ideas about things. That we can’t agree on anything.”

“Hmm.” Brady looks to the ceiling, kneading his lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that co-parenting is a big deal. You have to make a lot of compromises. Like I’m notsupposedto say it’s okay for Finn to drive Dad’s truck around the farm. So I don’t.”

“But…let me guess.” I lift a brow. “Finn drives Keith’s truck around the farm.”

Brady holds up his hands. “Wouldn’t know! I wasn’t there when Dad needed a hand carting fence wire.”

“Got it.” I pause, brain lagging a little. “What was I saying?”

“That you and Pen would be crap parents.”

“That’snotwhat I—” I rub a hand over my face, trying to reset my thoughts. “Anyway, it’s come down to one week.Thisweek. I have to convince her to give me a chance. Arealchance to prove we can do this. Together. That I can be a father to her child. As inourchild.”

The words catch in my throat, and I quickly reach for my beer, swallowing hard.

Brady exhales. “Holy fuck.”

“Yep.”

He squints at me, a little blearily. “So…how? Like, what’s your plan? How are you gonna convince her?”

I look at him. “Well, Brady. I guess that’s why I’m here talking toyou.”

“Shit.” He slowly reels back.

“Yeah.”

Then he lifts his arm. “We’re gonna need more drinks.”

Chapter 22

Penelope

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