Page 68 of Finance Bros

“Sure,” I say weakly, the bullied kid in me raising his hand to agree with Mal’s assessment that I’m both a freak and a pervert. It’s only sort of okay because I think he’s saying something similar about himself.

We’re quiet awhile before he looks over at me and asks, “Did I freak you out?”

“Last night?”

He shakes his head. “Just now.”

If I’m being honest… I nod.

“I’m not as fucked up as it might sound. I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of psycho. Or like…damaged.”

“I don’t,” I say.

“Whatdoyou think?”

I’ve got no clue what to say. I don’t even know where to be right now. Like, does hewantme here? Am I too close? Too far away?

What I think, however, is that I might not be the one who broke him, but he sure as fuck broke me. And everyone’s damaged. “Maybe I should go.”

He frowns. “Don’t do that. Please. I’m sorry I was weird today.”

“You gonna be weird tomorrow too?”

“No promises,” he says.

I take a deep breath and think through my next move. “You want help with filming?”

“I was about to do the shower thing we talked about.”

I gesture at the dog. “You think she’d let me bathe her while you’re in there?”

He laughs, and the sound surprises me. “Why? You don’t think you can contain a four pound, pissed off Yorkie?”

I raise my brows.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “She loves baths.” Malcolm scoops up Stephanie and hands her to me. For all her hair, she’s surprisingly bony, and she looks at me with wide, searching eyes, licking the air between our faces.

“Look at you all naked,” I say because she’s not wearing the bow or a collar.

Her head lurches forward like she wants to smell me closer.

Malcolm goes into the bathroom, then comes back out with a bottle for me. “Her shampoo. It doesn’t take much. You can use the kitchen sink. Make sure the water’s not too hot, okay?”

Stephanie looks between the two of us, and Mal gives her ear a scratch. “I’ll see you in a minute,” he says, looking from her to me. I can’t tell who he’s talking to.

He returns to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I go into the kitchen to do my first dog bath. I can say a lot abouthow great cats are, but one of the best things about them is they’re more or less self-cleaning. The only time I ever had to wash Bud was right after I took him in.

But it turns out Mal was right. Stephanie likes baths, and she’s easy to clean. Of all the shitty things this apartment has, the spray nozzle on the sink isn’t one of them. It’s the perfect strength to wash out the suds and not knock her on her skinny ass. I let her shake it out once I’m done, and she looks pitiful.

Her hair makes her look three times the size she actually is, and even she seems distressed by her raggedy appearance.

“You done?” Mal calls out.

“Yeah.”

He laughs when he comes into the kitchen and sees her. It’s the purest smile I’ve seen on his face since sometime yesterday. He takes her from me and turns to wrap her in a fluffy white towel matching the one around his waist. He’s still wet, especially on his back with droplets dripping from his hair, between his shoulder blades and down to the divot above his ass.

I have an urge to put my hands on his shoulders, hold him still, and suck up every drop, but I refrain.

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