Page 130 of Finance Bros

“I have to go home tonight,” he says.

“You don’t.” I tell him.

“I had a shitty day.”

“Is this because I wouldn’t fuck you in the unisex?”

He takes his hand back. “Not funny.”

“I’m asking.”

Apparently, he’s reached the end of his tether, because he more or less snaps, “I’ve got actual feelings for you, you know?”

The words give me a jolt, and I find myself struggling to swallow.

“I wish you’d take it seriously,” he adds, softer.

My mind flips through all the things I’ve done over the last few weeks, the ways I’ve acted, words I’ve said. He thinks I’m not serious? “I…do, I just…”

“What?”

“It’s sudden.” I don’t know why I say that. I’ve had feelings for him the majority of my life. In retrospect, the evolution of our relationship makes sense to me. It scares me, too.

“What do I have to do to let you know I mean it?” he asks.

That’s not the right question. I already know he’s serious about us. He’s locked in.For now.That’s the way he is. He does things with his whole chest until he stops. I don’t know what he’ll do once Kaylin comes back from her trip next week. I don’t know how much of what’s going on with us is due to his poor impulse control or an actual desire to build something new with me—or repair what we broke. Worse, I’m not sure what the fuck I want from him either.

I mean, I definitely want more. And I want him around. I don’t want him to spend tonight alone. I don’t want tobealone, either, not if being with him is an option. This isMalfor fuck’s sake—making me and breaking me all over again.

“I think what I need to hear is whatIneed to do foryou,” I say because the way he’s making it sound, I’m not meeting some need of his. “Besides sneaking off with you at work. What’s got you all twisted up?”

“You’re different,” he says.

“Than when I was fourteen? I fucking hope so.”

“No, I mean in the last couple of weeks. You’re friendlier. You’re making friends. You seem chill and kinda happy.”

I scowl, but he’s not wrong. Work is great. I think we’re killing it with the challenge. Iammaking friends—finding people I actually enjoy being around. Most importantly, Mal’s not actively trying to make me miserable even though we seeeach other every day. Is there some uncertainty? Sure. But it’s the good kind of uncertainty. The kind that leads to excitement rather than dread.

“Why are you not?” I ask.

“Areyou thinking of this as a fling?”

I wish I were. If I could put Mal into casual territory, it would make my life so much easier, but that’s never been the way my stupid heart deals with him. What he actually is—is a complication. A wrench in my well-laid plans. He’s a person I don’t know if I’ll ever be sure of, no matter how much I’d love some sign from the universe that sayshe’s yours. Take him.“No, I don’t think of it like a fling,” I tell him.

“Why not?”

Now he’s fishing.

I sigh. “Because you’re important to me.”

He stops walking. So do I, and we face each other. “Why?” he asks again.

“Why do you think?” I ask, and immediately feel bad about it. He needs more. I need to give him more. I just don’t know how when I feel this distance parting us again. When his hand isn’t in mine.

“Because we have history?” he asks.

“Guess again,” I say.

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