Page 108 of Ice Dance Hockey

“What? You can do that again so soon?” That’s fucking overwhelming. I feel like he just donated millions of dollars last week. I might not have a clear concept of how much money Rhett has.

“In addition to being an Elkington, they signed me for ten years after my first season at ten million a year. I immediately invested in the stock market and bought real estate. I have more money than I can spend in a lifetime, so I give a lot of it away.”

Jesus. His money makes money.

He huffs. “You’re mine now. Mercy should let me buy you a car. It’s not like it’s a big deal.”

“We’ve been real dating for a week, dude, and it is a big deal to us paupers.” I should be mad at all his alpha-man posturing, but I like it too much.

“I’m going to get my way, Logan. When you’re in New York, you won’t need a car for the city, but my place in the Hampton’s is a bit of a drive.”

“Merc will just say for me to drive with you. Though he’ll probably tell me to focus on school and not fuck off to rich people places.”

“It won’t be all the time. I travel a lot. We’re probably not going to see each other much.”

Hollowness wallows in my gut. Now I know why Jack and Mercy don’t talk about the day that’s coming in three short weeks. I don’t want to think about him being gone. I’ve grown used to him being around.

“I’m used to being alone, Rhett. My mom wasn’t home much either.”

That wakes him from his half slumber. “Was she at work?” he asks.

“Sometimes.” Fuck. I don’t want to talk about her … and I do. I want him to know about me, and I’m not embarrassed about how I grew up, but I don’t like visiting those times. It wasn’t fun.

“Where was she the rest of the time?” He trails a finger down the line of my abs.

“She was out with friends. She has a gambling addiction,” I add, hoping that’s enough for him to drop it.

“Has she gotten any help for this addiction?”

“Of course not.” I ball my fists. “Why do you think I had to come here in the first place? She gambled away all the money meant for my living expenses while I was in school.”

Not that I expected Merc to pay for my living expenses, even though that’s exactly why she called him, but I was so fucking mad. I’ve read enough online about this kind of thing to know it’s beyond her control at the moment, but it doesn’t change that I feel insignificant by comparison. Fuck, now I’m thinking about it again.

“You no longer have to worry about money,” Rhett says, studying me, unsure of the direction my thoughts have gone.

“Because my billionaire boyfriend will take care of me?” I raise my brow.

“He will, but you’re changing the subject. That’s not what you were worried about,” he says, figuring me out.

I sigh and the stupid tears burn over my eyes. “This is not sexy post-orgasm talk, Rhett.”

“I know,” he says, and his voice is as gentle as the palm pressing against the bare flesh of my belly. “But I’m not just here for orgasms. I want to be a real partner for you.”

He’s serious, isn’t he? “Look, I feel guilty about everything. I should be looking after my mom, not running away from her. Yet, I can’t go back there. It’s stressful. Depressing. It’s hard to look at her sometimes, especially when I know she’s manipulating me.”

“Parents are supposed to look after their children, not the other way around.”

“She did.” I defend her, but I don’t know why. “Amazingly, I always had a roof over my head and food.” Though sometimes I had to get creative to acquire the kind of food I needed for training.

“Children need emotional support too, Logan. They’re not meant to be the emotional support for their parents.”

Like Mercy is for his dad. I see that all the time and it pisses me off. Merc’s the adult in their relationship. I guess I relate because I love Mom, but I know she’s similar to Mercy’s dad that way.

“I guess I’ve accepted my role in my relationship with Mom. She’s not going to change.” She left her last set of children, and while she stuck around for me, part of me wishes she’d dropped me on Merc’s doorstep ages ago.

The guilt that plagues me about that thought is titanic. Basically, I wish she’d abandoned me too, only I have no true justification for that. It’s not like I was treated badly, just often neglected.

“Maybe, maybe not. Probably not in the way society—or you—expect her to, and even if she made a complete one-eighty, that won’t buy back the years you’re regretting right now,” he says.

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