Page 109 of Finance Bros

“About what I said earlier.”

“Which—”

“Just put some fucking pants on.” I let go of him and sit up.He stares at me for a long moment before slowly rolling over and getting out of bed. I follow him to his dresser. He hands me a pair of white briefs. Despite our different builds, we’re both medium-sized through the middle.

I pull mine on, not used to wearing anything other than boxer briefs—not since I was a child anyway—so I take a second to check myself out in his full length mirror. “My ass looks amazing.”

He glances over as he’s pulling his pants up. Even in the dim light, I notice his gaze heat. “Pants too.” I hold out my hand.

He tosses me some gray flannel pajama pants with a navy plaid print. They look like part of a set. Like something Jill would get him for Christmas. He’s got on a much sexier pair of sweats, but the important part is I won’t be quite as tempted to grab onto his cock and stuff it back in my mouth.

“Am I not allowed to touch you either?” he asks.

I’m flattered. “Don’t be crazy. Come beanbag with me.”

After a long stare he ends by shaking his head in defeat, Ryan crosses the room to the beanbag chair. He sits first, and I straddle his lap, wanting to look at him.

“What’s this about?” he asks, settling his hands on my upper thighs.

“Why can’t you sleep?” Okay, that’s a copout, but I’ve got to warm up to this. It would really help if he came out and asked me why I’m all of a sudden so eager to take a cock up my ass.

“I guess it’d be stupid to say I keep wondering what your angle is.”

Thank God. That’s damn near close enough. I shake my head. “No. I changed overnight, and I know why, and you don’t.”

“You said it wasn’t overnight.”

“It wasn’t, but I get how it looks like that, and why it might be keeping you up.”

His eyes warm as he tilts his head and looks up at me. Theexpression is so affectionate, it makes me want to keep doing whatever I’m doing right.

Talk. Keep talking, Malcolm.

“So…this is partly about my mom.”

His hands move to wrap around my hips, getting a better hold on me, which I can’t describe how much I appreciate. “Okay.”

I’m so fucking nervous. I’ve never said any of this out loud. I don’t know if I’ve ever put these particular thoughts into words. It’s images mainly and feelings that only started to make sense when Ryan pushed me against the wall, and I realized Iwantedhim to kiss me. I take a shaky breath. “And my mom’s cousin.”

21

MALCOLM

The near murderous look on Ryan’s face has me rushing my next words. “I told you no one hurt me. I wasn’t hurt. There was no touching or molesting or anything like that. I promise this isn’t anything like that.”

“Okay,” he breathes out evenly, a hint of veiled rage still underpinning his tone.

“I promise. I’ve been in therapy since I was eight. Same therapist. I mean, she doesn’t know aboutthis, but she’d know if I was abused or whatever, and I wasn’t. Not like that. Not like anything really. Honestly, this is so fucking embarrassing.”

“Who was the cousin?”

“William. His name was William.”

“Was?”

I shrug. “I haven’t seen him since her funeral.”

And I still remember the hug he gave me that day as he left the graveside to go to his car and disappear.“Hang in there, sweet boy. Remember she loved you so much,”he’d said.

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