Page 26 of Finance Bros

“I have a Swiffer, but I never feel like I’m using it right.”

“How can—? Never mind. Just sweep. I’ll get the stovetop since you’ve got your hands full.”

“Thanks,” I say, very grateful. Before Kaylin arrived, I cleaned the bathroom and vacuumed the living room rug. After that, I suctioned out all the crumbs between the couch cushions and wiped down the coffee table. Now, with the dog tucked under my arm, I sweep the kitchen one-handed then take a bottle of spray cleaner over to the dining area, figuring we’ll work there whenever Ryan and Bailey get here.

I offered my place to meet since I don’t have a roommate, although I realize it’s gonna look like Kaylin lives with me with her dog here and all.

“Are you nervous?” she calls from the kitchen.

“No. Sort of.”

“Who scares you more? This Bailey person or Ryan?”

“They scare me equally,” I say, but I’m far more nervous about being around Ryan and keeping my cool. The effect he has on me is unpredictable. Sometimes I manage complete indifference, and other times I feel a rage so primal, I could literally kill him and get off with the insanity defense—it’s that irrational.

“Sorry you suck at blackjack,” Kaylin says.

“Yeah. Well. Thanks for staying.”

She walks over to me and rubs her hands on my arms before leaning in to peck Stephanie’s forehead. Then she looks up at me. “For better or worse, you’re stuck with me. Break or no break.”

“So the break…are you okay with it?”

Her mouth flattens into a grim line. “If that’s what you need.”

“I thought you’d be more receptive,” I admit.

She sighs. “Look, I get that this might not feel like mad, passionate love anymore, but Idolove you.”

“Like—in love?” Because it hasn’t felt like that since we graduated high school.

“More like solid, I want you to be happy love,” she concedes. “So if this is what you need…”

“I want you to be happy, too,” I tell her.

“I appreciate that. And I get that we’re both creatures of habit,” she says. “What we have is easy. You’re still my best friend, Mal.”

“You’re mine, too,” I tell her.

“Is this just a prelude to a break up, though?” she asks.

“I’m honestly not sure.”

She breaks eye contact and takes another deep breath. “Wow. Okay.”

“Please don’t,” I nearly beg. The last thing I want is for her to be sad. “I only mean I don’t want to waste any more of your time if I’m not sure.”

“What are you not sure about, Mal?”

The question is too direct. It causes a pressure drop in my stomach.

I dodge. “Maybe we can table this until after you come back from Europe.”

She returns her gaze to my eyes and squints like she’s trying to read the fine print. “Okay,” she says carefully. “Any plans?”

I shake my head. My mind is literally a blank space. This is the right move—I know that for sure. What I don’t know is why I’m so sure aboutthatbut absolutely nothing else.

“Steer clear of Isla.”

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