Chance said, counting out the bills. “And three grand for me.” He grinned. “Man, that was one marathon game.” “Yeah,” Wes agreed, leaning over to the stuff the wad of bills into his sock. He hadn’t slept since getting out of bed the previous morning, was running on the fumes of energy drinks and Snickers bars. And the high of winning a decent pot. “You played like your life was on the line.” Which it was, kind of. “Thanks.” “What are you taking, man?” “Taking?” “Ritalin, Adderall?” “No, nothing.” “Something made you uber focused, you didn’t make a single mistake.” “Just motivated, I guess.” “What are you going to do with the money?” “I’m going to buy a ring.” “What kind of ring?” “An engagement ring.” Chance’s eyes bulged. “You’re getting married?” “If she says yes.” “Wait—which chick are you asking?” Wes scoffed. “Liz. She’s having my baby, and I’m going to do the hard thing.” “The hard thing?”
