Page 50 of Finance Bros

“When should we meet up again—do you think?” I ask, trying not to think about Ryan and hisroommate.

He sighs like I’m fucking exhausting, and he’s not wrong. I’m fucking exhausting myself with this mess of a conversation. “I’m not the team leader, Mal. If you want us to meet up, suggest something. We’ll work it out. If you want something else…”

My spine goes rigid. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You’re acting weird.”

No shit. Becausethisis weird. You’d think he’d get that. Still, I deny it. “I’m not acting like anything. I’m having a normal conversation with you, and you’re acting like we barely know each other.”

“We don’t,” he says with that firm edge I was trying to avoid butting up against.

In retreat mode, I fall back into old habits. “Whose fault is that? At least I’m not pretending you don’t exist.”

“Today,” he says cuttingly.

I should have said more when I was hugging him and his guard was halfway down. I should have apologized. Now isn’t really the time and place, but since I have his attention… “Look, I’m trying. I might suck at it, but this is me, making an effort?—”

“Why, though?” he asks.

“Because—” Okay, I can’t say the real reason. “Because we have to work together.”

“That’s it?”

I hesitate, looking directly into his eyes. Very much on purpose. “That’s it.”

I can see him processing, ruminating on my hesitation, which is a big win in my book. Becausewhat if?

What if he grabbed hold ofmysweater and mademestay after Bailey has to go. What if he shoved me into a wall and got in my face again? What if the scent of spice was just a top note, and there’s something even more appealing beneath it?What would I do?

I’m known among my friends as someone who dabbles. While they’ve all got hobbies or sports they’ve dedicated themselves to, I keep trying new things. Pickleball, basketball, frisbee golf, biking—which I donotrecommend in this town—rock climbing, and once—cliff diving. I don’t scare easy except for this one thing. This one thing that I’ve been running from since I was fourteen.

And I might hate it as much as I hated biking uphill, but I honestly don’t think anything could bethatbad. “I say we try and meet up tonight or tomorrow night and make a concrete plan for the week. Isla’s got me pretty busy during the day, butI’ve got plenty of free time in the evenings to work on next steps. I don’t want to go off on some tangent we’re not all in agreement about.” There—how’s that for a contribution?

His hazel gaze is still suspicious. “All right. I’ll check in with Bailey before debrief, then.”

“What’s your address?” I ask.

His head moves with a subtle shake, and it hits me again how good looking he is.Sofucking good looking. “I’ll text it to you when we have a time set.”

I nod and sip my coffee while he finally takes a bite of his lunch. “You’re not eating?” he asks after he polishes off half his pasta.

I have zero appetite today. “I had a big breakfast,” I lie.

“What’d you have?”

Fuck.Now I have toreallylie.

“Biscuits and gravy.”

“You make that yourself?”

I shake my head. “Delivery.”

“You must wake up early.”

I couldn’t sleep after I stopped texting you. “Yeah. Stephanie, you know? She’s got places to be.”

He laughs and covers his mouth so food doesn’t come flying out.

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