Page 39 of Rush

“Hang the paintings up. Remind yourself of what you’re capable of. Of what you’re good at. What you love. Well, all of them, except for this one.” He reaches for the ballerina painting, picking it up. “I want this one.”

“Why?”

“My niece is obsessed with ballet. She’d love this.”

“I didn’t know you were an uncle.”

“Two nieces. They’re Zeus’s kids. Gigi is five and ballet-obsessed. And Thea is only six weeks old.”

“Cute,” I say.

“Ridiculously so.”

“I bet you spoil them rotten.”

He gives me a look. “All the damn time. Case in point.” He nods down at my painting. “So, can I buy this from you? It doesn’t matter what it costs.”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Ari—”

“Take it. Call it a gift for, you know, your help last night.”

“You don’t owe me for that.”

I shrug. “Whatever. I still want you to have it. Well, your niece.”

“You have to let me give you something for it. I can’t just take it. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Honestly, I don’t want anything, but if it bothers you that much, make a donation to a charity instead.”

“Okay. I can do that.” He nods. “Which charity?”

“American Foundation for Suicide Prevention,” I say without thinking.

He’s wordlessly watching me. Like he’s trying to fit all the pieces of me together, but he’s coming up short.

“Okay.” His voice is rough. “I’ll make the donation today.”

“Thank you,” I say softly.

We’re quiet a moment. All of the unspoken words hanging silently between us.

He’s the first to speak, “Well, I guess I should take off.”

“Right. Yeah. Of course.”

I follow him into my living room and watch quietly while he puts his shoes on.

Then, I follow him to the front door. He unlocks and opens it, stepping through, my painting in his hand.

“So…thanks again for the save last night.”

He shakes his head in silent reproach. “You don’t need to thank me, Jailbird. I did what any guy would.”

“Well, not any guy. I don’t think Kyle would threaten you to save my ass.”

“Good point,” he says.