Page 147 of Finance Bros

“No, he was actually upset. Like asking what he did wrong—why I left.”

“Too much drama, right?” I clarify.

“Somuch fucking drama, which is exactly what I told him. And he was like—” Miguel puts his hand on his chest like he’s mimicking Nathan. “From me?”

I raise my eyebrows. I know gossiping is shitty, but at the same time, it’s hard to resist. And technically this isn’t gossip since Miguel is just relaying a story of something that actually happened to him.

“So I said, sort of—yeah. Him, Piper, Lisette.”

“What about Jia?”

“Poor Jia. She’s doing most of the work while everybody else snipes at each otherandher.”

“That sucks.”

“I mean, I’d tell her to bail, but she’s too deep in it now, and if they do end up making a decent amount of money, she could easily make the case it was primarily her doing, so I’m just keeping my fingers crossed for her.”

I nod, sort of wishing we had room for one more on our team, but I’m not sure how much thinner we can stretch ourselves and still allocate proper credit.

“But that’s not what I want to talk about,” Miguel says.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“Hekissedme.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah—like—no preamble, no permission—just grabbed me and laid one on, which was hot as fuck, but obviously not okay.”

“Right,” I say carefully because he’s looking at me like he needs me to agree.

“Exactly. And also—I know I said we hooked up, but there wasn’t any kissing involved. It was a BJ in the bar bathroom. Technically two—two separate occasions.”

“Is heokay?” I ask. I don’t know why I’m concerned with everyone’s mental health all of a sudden, but maybe it’s because I’ve never seen so many people crack under pressure all at once.

Miguel shrugs, looking baffled. “Once I got him off me, I asked the same thing. He startedcrying.”

This is almost impossible to picture. Six-five, wall of muscle, cocksure Nathan breaking down because Miguel wouldn’t let him kiss him? I need more information.

“He said he can’t stop thinking about me, that he wants me. It’s a trap, right?”

“A trap?” I ask.

“To get me back on the team.”

“Why would he want you back on the team that bad?”

Miguel looks confused, and I swear more of his hair frizzes at the question. “I don’t know. He doesn’t like to lose?”

“Nobody likes to lose.”

Miguel’s eyes widen. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing, just…he wascrying?”

“I mean haven’t we all cried at least once about this job this summer?”

“I haven’t.”

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