Page 86 of Home Game

“Come on,” his voice was teasing. “Let me splurge on you.”

I swallowed. This was hard. “I’m not a bloodsucking leech.”

His eyes widened. “Zoey! What? Of course you’re not.”

“Let’s go.”

“Why won’t you let me do this?”

I stubbornly stayed quiet.

“Zoey, come on. Please?”

“If you’re going to spend that much money, buy something I need. I don’t need skates.” My face was bright red. “Please, let’s go.”

He went still. “What do you need?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

“Why did you say that?”

The clerk was staring off into space, trying not to look like he was listening. But he totally was. I stared at Ryan. Here he was trying to do something so nice for me. And I was blowing it.

I leaned forward and Ryan bent his head down, so I could whisper in his ear. “It’s cold on the streets. And if you’re going to spend $300 on me, these skates aren’t going to keep me warm.”

He pulled back his head and understanding dawned on his face as he looked at my ratty faux leather jacket. “I’m such a fucking asshole.”

“No. You’re not.” My eyes got a bit misty. “You’re the nicest person ever. But when I leave, I will not be skating and it seems like such a waste of money. I don’t want you to spend money you don’t need to.”

He looked at the clerk. “Where are your winter jackets?”

“Right over there, sir.”

Ryan put his arm on my back. “Come on.”

“No,” I protested, as he steered me to the coats.

“Let’s get you a coat.”

My eyes burned with humiliation. “No. I’m not letting you buy me anything. Not a coat. Not a pair of skates.”

He walked away from me, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he turned. “You know, I grew up on a farm. We weren’t rich, but we always had lots of food and we had warm clothes. I don’t think of these things. I don’t know what it’s like to be cold or not be safe.”

I looked around to make sure no one was listening. “That doesn’t mean you have to fix things for me.”

“Zoey,” he looked frustrated. “I have so much money. I never worry that I will run out. It’s just there. I will never run out of money that is how much I have. I don’t have a clue how you’ve survived and thrived as well as you have, but it’s humbling to witness.”

He was going to make me cry. “Well, I don’t expect you to take care of me. You’ve already done too much.”

“You know what makes me happy?”

I shook my head.

“These days, fuck all. I’m living the dream, right? Fantastic job, a nice apartment, any woman I want, more money than I can spend. Fame. But I feel nothing. I feel like something is missing. But lately, the one thing that makes me feel good about life, is when you let me help you.”

I went still. We stared at each other.

“Why?”

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