Page 4 of Man Advantage

The last few years had been a bit of a whirlwind, and it hit me now just how much I regretted losing touch with him.He’d always been such a great guy. Even our stupid high school breakup had been anticlimactic. We’d gone out one afternoon, and after the matinee, we’d had a sort of awkward conversation where we agreed we were better off as friends. Then we’d grabbed whatever we could afford off the McDonald’s $1 Menu and sat in his car, talking until we both got in trouble for breaking curfew.

God, wouldn’t my life be better now if all my breakups were like that?

I definitely regretted all the time that had slipped by since I’d seen him, that was for sure. And now he was reaching out, so maybe I should see why before I wandered off into another nostalgic daydream.

I tapped my screen and read his text.

Hey, Jake told me you’re in a bind. Long story short, I’m in one too, and we might be able to help each other.

I blinked at the message. There was a flicker of disappointment that he wasn’t just reaching out because he’d missed me. He needed something from me. Damn.

But also… he wanted to help? And what in the world could he needmyhelp with? Last I’d heard, he’d locked down like a three-and-a-half-million-dollar-per-year deal with his hockey team. Though some of our mutual friends had mentioned that his divorce had been messy. Maybe his ex had taken him to the cleaners?

Boy, could I relate. At least Dickhead and I hadn’t been married. Somehow I suspected he’d have found a way to screw me over even harder.

Well, I was desperate, and I didn’t exactly have any other help on the horizon, so… why not? And Trev did say he could somehow help me, so yeah, why not?

With my heart in my throat, I typed out a message.

yeah, things got messy with my ex. What’s going on with you?

He didn’t read it or respond right away. Not surprising, I guess; his text had come through almost half an hour ago. I must not have heard it.

I was about to swipe away and start doomscrolling like I’d planned, but then the three dots appeared. I held my breath, waiting for him to hit Send.

After a solid minute, he finally did.

Short version – ex is threatening to go for full custody if I don’t lock down fulltime live-in childcare for the hockey season. Which starts really soon.

I blinked. Childcare? That was not a career path I’d considered.

But… did he say full-time? Andlive-in?That meant a paycheckanda roof.

Not gonna lie, my friend, there isn’t much I won’t do these days. You just need a nanny basically?

Basically. Do you have a car? If not I can get you one.

My jaw fell open. He’dbuyme acar?Or lease one or whatever? I mean, okay, he was a millionaire and all, but goddamn.

I have a car. Pretty sure it’ll make it to you. You’re still in Pittsburgh right?

Yep. I think it’s like a 5 day drive. I can fly out and drive with you if you’d rather not go alone. As long as it’s not my custody week.

As much as a road trip with Trev sounded like a blast, we didn’t actually know each other anymore. Agreeing to move in with him and work with him was a massive leap already—one I couldn’t affordnotto make—but being cooped up in a car together for three thousand miles could get sketchy.

I can make the drive. Are you sure about this?

Absolutely. Not gonna lie, I’m desperate.

Pause.

That sounds kind of dickish. I’m desperate for someone to take care of my kids. It really will be great to see you again, too.

I had to chuckle. Good save, my friend.

But I understood. My entire life had been turned on its ass recently, and I was pretty single-mindedly focused on finding a solution.Anysolution. I wasn’t out to use anyone or take advantage of them, but I was ready to jump on the first viable fix that came my way.

So could I really begrudge him reaching out to me with that same kind of desperation? And hell, if I showed up and he was an asshole—if he treated me like he didn’t give a shit about me and only cared about getting out of his bind—then I didn’t have to stay. I could stick around long enough to save some money, then bug out.

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