Page 101 of Finance Bros

“Oh. Well, I feel like you think I just want to get off with you, and I mean—that’s not a small part of it, but I want it to make us closer, not push you away.”

“Okay.” I guess I can accept that. For the moment. “But it’s kinda overwhelming.” Not to mention out of character. Out of the blue. Driving me out of my mind.

“I get that,” he says. “And it’s the same for me, but you shutting me out fucking sucks. And I know I did it to you—worse—I know there’s a lot of really bad, shitty history between us, but this isn’t some random idea I had—this iswho I am. Whatever you thought you knew about me in high school, I can guarantee you got it wrong.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“Like—” He lowers his voice. “Like if you thought I was happy. I wasn’t. I was miserable.”

Fuck. Of all the things he’s told me,thatresonates. It makes a lot of what he did back then make more sense. If he’d been happy, he might have been kind and understanding. Instead, he was the opposite—angry and cruel. His confession gives me the soft urge to hug him, but I don’t. “That sucks.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out a huge sigh. “I’m not trying to say I had it worse?—”

“I get what you’re saying,” I tell him. “It’s not a competition.”

“I’m really fucking sorry, Ry.”

“I know.” I take another step down, another step closer. One stair remains between us. “It’s hard for me, though. Trusting you is hard for me.” I want to be clear. I need him to know that whatever it is he wants from me—friendship—a hook-up—any kind of relationship really—needs to start from scratch. I have to accept what happened to me after he threw me to the wolves,but I’ve alsogotto understand why he felt like he needed to hurt me. Even if it was pure malice, I deserve to know that. I need to know who the fuck I’m dealing with. It’s the only way we can wipe the slate clean and move on.

He looks up and meets my eyes. His are so blue with the sky reflecting in them. “I want to work on that,” he says. “Trust. You mean so fucking much to me, but I want you, too. I want you like crazy. I don’t know what to do with how much I want you.”

In terms of things that turn me on—this whole moment ranks pretty high.

“I’m gonna ask you this one more time,” I say, taking the next step, literally and figuratively as I slide my hand into his. “Can I buy you dinner?”

He shuts his eyes like the question itself hurts, but then he nods. “Yeah.”

We’reone of many same sex couples in the quiet seafood restaurant I picked for dinner. Bailey lives in the Castro District, which is widely known as the gay part of town. It’s actually awkward for me to be here, having identified as straight with the one exception for so long. Malcolm doesn’t seem to notice, but then again, he’s rarely awkward—at least from what I can tell on the outside.

He orders a beer, and I order water.

“Do you not drink?” he asks.

I force myself to be honest. It’s what I want from him, so I’ll lead by example. “I don’t want to say anything out loud I didn’t mean to say. I’m just being overly cautious. When we decided to team up, I decided I wouldn’t drink. It’s not a huge sacrifice for me. I always liked weed better anyway.”

“When did you stop doing that?” he asks.

“When I had to pass a drug test.” I smile.

“How’s that going?”

“I’m less hungry.”

“You don’t have to be careful what you say around me,” Mal says just when I started to think we’d be moving smoothly past that part.

“I’m also kind of an asshole when I drink,” I add.

He snorts a laugh. “Would anyone be able to tell?”

“Funny,” I say flatly.

Malcolm leans back in his chair and looks around the restaurant. It’s a low lit, narrow space with shiplap walls and atmospheric fairy lights. There’s a fake candle flickering between us on the table. “This feels like a date, and I look like shit.”

He doesn’t look like shit. Not at all. He doesn’t look like himself with his disheveled hair, facial scruff, and the tank top, but in terms of how sexy I find him in comparison to anyone else in the room, he’s number one. But I’m beyond biased. He’s sexier to me than anyone on the planet. If I thought I had it bad for him before I had sex with him, I’m a fucking goner now.

“You’re fine,” I say. “So how did people on the Discord figure out we know each other?”

“Bud and Stephanie.”

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