Page 123 of Finance Bros

“We’re fine,” I tell her. “What’s he talking about with Miguel?”

She shrugs, her gaze shifting to the door where Nathan and Piper are coming in. I don’t miss the look Piper shoots in Bailey’s direction. It’s smug. Derisive.

“What’s her problem with you?” I ask.

“No clue. Maybe she’s one of those girls who thinks everybody wants to have sex with her. Like in this case, my best guess is she and Nathan are probably fucking, and she thinks because I’m a lesbian that would make me jealous because obviously I’d want to fuck her, too.”

She got a lot from one look.

“Maybe she’s just a bitch,” I say.

Bailey snorts. “That, too.”

“Are you gonna stitch her videos? I liked Ryan’s idea.”

“I need to be focused on the project—not her petty bullshit.”

“You could do it just for fun,” I suggest.

“My idea of fun does not include putting my face on the internet.”

“I mean literally nothing by this, but do you ever wear makeup?”

She glares at me. “No. Why? You think it’d make me easier to look at?”

“Noooo.” Did she miss my whole I mean nothing by this thing? “I’m saying something more like you don’t have to be yourself when you’re on the internet. For all anybody watching knows, you slay in makeup. You could straighten your hair or something—look even less like yourself.”

“Look, I know I’m not finance Barbie, but it is so fucking rude to comment on another person’s looks.”

“You do it to me all the time.”

“Oh, like you care what I think about what you look like.”

“I’m actually very sensitive,” I tell her, sounding like I’m joking, but I’m actually not.

“Golden boy really is the perfect nickname for you,” she says.

“Yeah,youdon’t get to call me that.”

She arches her brows. “Who does?”

“Mind your own fucking business, Bailey,” I say without any heat, and she snickers.

Georgie enters the room, followed by Ryan and Miguel. Miguel has his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and is leaning in close to speak into his ear. Either he’s a close talker in general or he likes to put his hand onmy guy. Either way, I hate it.

Ryan is nodding at whatever he’s saying as he glances around the table, looking first to the other group, then to Bailey, and finally me. As he takes his usual seat between Nathan and Miguel, he gives me half a grin, but I don’t return it. I don’t even try. Because I’m a complete psycho, I text him even though we’re not supposed to have our phones out during the huddle.

Me

What’s going on with you two?

Either he has his notifications off or he’s got a perfect poker face because he doesn’t blink. I shift in my seat, restless, then wince as I put too much pressure on my hole. Funny how having Ryan’s cock in it is no problem, but sitting on it makes me feel like it’s being stabbed with a hot poker.

What Georgie’s talking about isn’t interesting to me with Ryan six feet away, so my mind wanders to butt plugs. Vibrators. Vibrating butt plugs. By the time we wrap up and I have to face Isla, I’ve got a semi and a hole desperate to be filled.

Ryan and Miguel remain glued together until Charlie waves Ryan over to the couches. Logically, there’s nothing wrong withRyan talking to other people, and I’d probably be more fucked up if he were talking to whoever that Seattle woman is, but yesterday was special—at least to me.

It was making out in the beanbag chair and a buffet of takeout Chinese food. It was practicing good cop bad cop for the podcast while I kept messing with his hair to annoy him—or get him to touch me. Tackle me. Do whatever he wanted to me.

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