"Because…" I trail off, chewing on the inside of my cheek. The real answer sounds pathetic, even to me. Because it makes me feel gross. Because I don't know him well enough. Because I've spent so long scraping by on my own that the thought of taking handouts makes me feel like I'm failing. But I don't say any of that. I just let the silence hang.
"Just let me spoil you," Mateo says, his tone soft but insistent. His hands slide slowly up my sides, calloused fingertips grazing over the thin fabric of my shirt until goosebumps bloom in their wake. Then he wraps his arms fully around me, holding me tight against him, chin dipping to rest against my shoulder.
I laugh weakly, trying to deflect. "You're really touchy today." I ignore the comment about spoiling me, because I know if I think too hard about it, I'll start to waver. I don't need his money. I keep telling myself that. I'm doing… moderately okay. Surviving, at least.
