“Six and seven, mostly. I like that age. I still have a chance to make a difference before they’re too old not to care anymore—especially the boys. Once they hit high school, it’s often too late. But I love teaching. Even if I reach one kid, it makes a difference.”
“Like Kai?”
“Exactly. He struggled so hard, and he is such a bright kid. Once I figured out where his block was and helped him get past it, he soared.”
“So, ah, how do you make do when you don’t get much teaching?” she asked, her fingers playing on my chest in nervous little circles.
Chuckling, I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed it. “Relax, Lottie. We’re just talking.”
“I know. I don’t want to upset you.”
“Like the other night?” I asked with a frown. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. I don’t want you to see me as some sort of bum needing a handout.”
“I don’t.”
I arched my eyebrow and gazed down at her. She lowered her eyes. “Not anymore.”
I had to chuckle.
“I didn’t think you were a bum, but I worried about you. If you had enough to eat, a place to stay, if you were safe at night… and you would never let me leave you money!” she grumped and smacked my chest for good measure.
I tried not to chuckle at her anger. It was endearing that she would worry about me so much.
“When I’m not teaching, I tutor, I give music lessons, I tend bar, and yes, I sing. But in a club, Lottie. Not on the street for money—at least, not anymore. I kept playing in the subway for you. All the money people threw in went to the food bank or the homeless shelter.” I huffed out a long breath.
“You need to understand something.” I waited until she looked up and met my eyes. “I am never going to climb the corporate ladder. I will never wear a suit and tie and carry a briefcase. There won’t be a huge paycheck and fancy dinners. I live modestly. I like simple things. If that frightens you—” I swallowed “—I guess we need to stop now. I have no plans on changing my life. But I want you in it, if you want to be. If you can accept me for who I am.”
“I don’t want you to change, Logan. I want to know about your life.” She frowned. “Can you accept my life? The fact that I am, as you say, part of a world you detest?”
“I don’t like what your world is doing to you, Lottie.”
She lifted one shoulder. “I know.”
“I would like to help you discover another one, but I know you have to want that too.” I tucked her closer. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help you. Even if it’s just to sing to you and calm you. But I won’t ever stop hoping you find a different path—one that makes you happy.”
She was quiet for a moment. “You have roommates?”
I let her drop the subject—for now.
“Yes, I have two. Rex, who is an IT guy at a bank. His girlfriend, Gretchen, is the one studying to become a hairdresser. And Trevor is our other roomie. He’s a personal trainer and owns his own gym—he lets me use it for nothing, which is great. Our apartment is too small for any equipment except a set of dumbbells in my room.”
“Does he have a girlfriend?” she asked.
I snorted. “Too many to count. Let’s just say, Trev rarely sleeps at home.”
“Oh.”
I chuckled. “We’ve been roomies since university. We get along well and respect one another’s boundaries. I think Rex will be gone soon enough—he’s pretty smitten with Gretch. Trev, I have no idea.”
“What about you?”
I slid my hand down her back, cupping her firm ass in my hand. “What about me, Lottie? You asking my future plans?”
She peered up at me. “If they left, would you stay there or move?”
“Probably move or find other roommates. The place would be too big for me.”
She nodded, and I saw the concern in her eyes.
“Stop worrying about my finances, Lottie. I’m careful with my money, and I’m quite solvent. I certainly don’t pull in the salary I expect you do, but I’m fine. I promise not to embarrass you.”
She sat up, her eyes blazing. “I never said you embarrassed me. I never thought like that at all. Don’t put words in my mouth, Montgomery Logan!”
I tried not to grin at her tone or the way she used my full name. She was beautiful in her indignation, her color high and her eyes flashing at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said automatically. “I simply meant you don’t have to worry. I’m fine.” I studied her, waiting until I saw the fire disappear from her gaze. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was homeless and broke once, Lottie. Alone. Not long after my father died, I had nothing, and I lived on the streets when foster care didn’t work.”