Helen Hoang

But big life events change people, and the truth is I’m different now. I’m still figuring everything out

“What do you do for a living?

When disaster hit and he needed money, he’d thought, why not get money for it? In his previous line of work, he’d dealt with lots of wealthy older women who propositioned him from time to time. All he’d had to do was accept.

“I should have known you’d have the prettiest little—”

“I should have known you’d have the prettiest little—”

She set her phone down in defeat and made herself focus on her work, which she still loved.

And since when do you keep rubber bands handy for her hair? Whipped much?

“I can buy myself a new car.”

She bit her lip to keep from frowning, but she understood if he had to earn his own way. She didn’t need to spoil him. She just wanted to.

“But I want the same model as yours,” he continued. “And I like black.”

She tilted her head to the side and drew in a slow breath. “Does that mean . . . ?”

“It means if you want to buy me a car, I want to drive it.” His lips curved with a suggestive grin, and his eyes danced. “If you want to buy me boxers, I want to wear them.”

Her chest filled with lightness, and she grabbed his hand so she wouldn’t accidentally float away. “It means you love me.”

He interlaced their fingers the way he always did and squeezed. “That’s right. It’s economics.”

“Why did you wait for her to ask you out? Why didn’t you ask her first?” She’d gotten the impression men liked to be initiators in matters like these. Was she wrong?

As usual, her own arms provided little comfort.