Page 22 of Game Plan

The thought makes me smile. It also makes me a little sad.

So, I shove that imagery out of my brain and get back to why I called.

“A very nice woman called me a few minutes ago,” I say.

“Huh.”

I grin. “Do you know anything about that? Because she apparently got my information from a sports agent named Chuck, and I’m pretty freaking sure that’s your agent’s name.”

“Wow.”

“Wow, what?”

“You know my agent’s name? I’m impressed.”

I laugh again. “She also told me that her services are paid for, so thank you.” My heart squeezes tightly. “It does concern me since I told you on the way home from the airport that offering me money for my charity idea wasn’t exactly friends-with-benefits behavior.”

“I thought about that. But since there are no benefits to this friendship anymore, and I’m not technically giving you the money, it falls perfectly under Poppy’s Rules of Non-Relationships.”

“Finn …” I sigh happily. “I’ll pay you back. Eventually.”

“You’re not paying me back. Stop it.”

“It might take the rest of my life,” I say, grinning. “But maybe we could work something out. I mean, it might be illegal to trade sexual favors to work off a debt, but I won’t tell. Hell, I’d prefer it.”

His laughter winds its way around my heart.

The silence that follows melts away some of the day’s stress. I find my seat again and let Finn’s breathing steady my own.

“In all seriousness,” I say, “thank you. I don’t know, and don’t want to know, how much that phone call cost you, but I’m thankful. It really means a lot that you …” It means a lot in so many ways. I swallow. “Just thank you for supporting my idea like this.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a great idea, and it honors your dad. I just wish I knew more about him so I could understand the concept better.”

My smile wavers. We’ve talked briefly about my parents—more about my mom. She’s easier to discuss because she’s still here. I know Finn would love for me to tell him every childhood story that I can remember, like he’s shared with me. But I can’t.

The more information you give others, the more ammunition they have to throw back in your face later.

I grit my teeth, hating that thoughts like this trickle into my brain. That they’re a part of my operating system. That I can’t just override it and be a normal person.

I know how much it would mean to Finn if I could. I just can’t.

“How about I come over tonight and show you just how grateful I am?” I ask.

He hums. “What are you going to do? Take me out for dinner? Mini golf?”

“Kind of. There would be oral activities and balls involved.”

His chuckle is low and vibrates through my body. “I miss you, Pop.”

“I bet you do,” I say, redirecting him before he gets gooey. “You haven’t had sex in how many days?”

“Think I could take my friend to dinner this weekend?”

“I don’t know. I might be able to pencil you in if I get to pick dessert.”

Tension fills the air as we sit quietly, waiting for the next volley to fly. As frustrating as this is, and as painful as the growing ache in my core is becoming, this is fun.

“Call me if you decide what you want,” I say, teasing him.