Imaginary Lines (New York Leopards 3)

“You know what I mean. Or even things like report on drugs and gambling.” He didn’t stop watching me with that oddly serious look, so I couldn’t help prodding at him. “You have any drugs or gambling going on?”

His gaze flickered slightly, that same flickering from before, where I just couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. Only it made me think about Rachael Hamilton crying over her boyfriend in their apartment.

But then it was gone, and he grinned, even though I was positive he didn’t mean it. “I guess that means I couldn’t talk to you about it even if I did.”

I frowned. “Abe. You know I would never betray your confidence.”

He shrugged, his face still reflecting false feelings. “I know.”

“When did you learn to guard your emotions?”

He lay back on my bed, which made my imagination go wild, and made it very difficult to keep on track. “I guess when I learned people were willing to take advantage of me.”

“What?”

He raised a brow. “What do you mean, ‘what’? You remember what I do for a living, right?”

My stomach twisted. “I’m not used to you sounding cynical. I don’t like it.”

“That’s what happens when you’re a millionaire.”

“But people—no one’s tried to take advantage of you, have they?”

Now he propped himself on one elbow—on my pillows!—and grinned at me, and I was sure it was genuine. “‘Taken advantage’?”

I waved a hand. “You know. They say football players often struggle with people who want to get to their money, but—I don’t know, I didn’t think that applied to you. You family never would, right?”

He relented. “Not my parents or anyone close, no. My aunt Claire, some—”

“Oh, well, Claire,” I said, unsurprised. “No shocker there.”

“She wanted me to send Aviv to private school.”

“I hope you said no!”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t pay for him to go to a private high school, but college’s so expensive. So I set up a fund.”

I placed my head in my hands.

“And then,” Abe continued, “I figured, ‘I can’t just do this for Aviv,’ so I set up a fund for all m

y cousins.”

I groaned. Abe had twelve cousins.

“And then,” he said, sitting up, “I realized it was ridiculous to set up funds for my cousins, who are already well-enough off, and ignore kids who can’t afford any education, so I ended up sending most of my money to children’s educational charities and setting up scholarship funds.”

“You set up scholarship funds? How come I didn’t know about this?”

He looked slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t tell my parents. I didn’t want them to go around bragging, which they kind of tend to.”

I shook my head, astonished. “They’d be proud of you. I’m proud of you.”

He smiled, his best kind of smile, and it warmed me all over. “Thanks.” He paused. “I’m proud of you too, you know. That you moved out here on your own. That you landed your job at Sports Today.”

Now I was embarrassed, so I returned to the conversation from before. “But no one else is hounding you, are they?”

He shrugged. “Occasionally. College friends who aren’t as successful. It’s hard for them, but after the first year I figured out how to set boundaries. Ryan was good at helping—he often mentors the rookies.” He glanced up. “And then there are girls.”