“Money. You having it. My family.” Sam shrugged: one-shouldered, suddenly not quite laughing, rueful and unguarded. “You see someone needing help, and you want to. Help.”
“But,” Leo said, “why wouldn’t I, if I can? I really would be a selfish turnip if I didn’t,” and had a small sip of tea. Flavor slid over his tongue, down his throat. “Is that all right? Not me being a turnip. Though if you were interested I could probably find a costume, I’m up for just about anything, but that one might be…a bit of a difficult row to hoe.”
“Oh my God,” Sam said, “that was the worst joke ever. And I mean that. No, I’m not into weird root vegetable role-play. Why turnips?”
“Honestly? That’s just what popped into my head.”
“And you were serious about being up for anything.” Sam touched Leo’s bare arm,
