Page 28 of Finance Bros

One of the many, many problems I have with what he said to me so many years ago was it put me in an impossible position because he’d been my stepbrother since we were eight. On top of that, he was my best friend in the universe. The pressure his confession put on me felt like he was shitting all over everything.

Granted, I didn’t immediately recoil. I knew he was out of it, but I also knew he was telling the truth, and I wrestled with it. I didn’t want our friendship to be over. I was fourteen, we were in high school. Everything was changing—he was going one way, and I was going another, so I actuallydidthink about it. I thought about whether how close we were meant I had feelings like that for him, too. But very quickly, I realized what it would mean if I did, and how it would change not only everything at home but also at school, and I couldn’t let myself go there. In short, I freaked the fuck out.

Literally overnight everything that attracted me to him—his wit, his patience with me, the way it felt to hold him or be close to him—morphed solidly into a deep revulsion that only picked up steam over the years as we completed puberty, and he started getting stoned all the time.

But he’s all respectable man now. Angry respectable man.

His gaze is flinty and hard, guarded as he looks between me and the dog. His dark hazel eyes are mostly a pale brown with bold flecks of emerald green. It makes him look a little unreal, to be honest, in a way that’s hard not to stare at.

“Hi, Ryan,” Kaylin calls out.

Those eyes widen slightly at the sound of her voice. He gives me a look likewhat the fuck? About three feet into the dining area, he stops and stares at Kaylin approaching. “Hi,” he says flatly.

She’s going to hug him. Of course she is. She’s always felt bad for him and guilty and whatever else her big heart can hold. Because she was an asshole to him, too. She’s just allowed to feel bad about it, while I’ve had to convince her that she and I didn’t do anything wrong. Apparently, it worked.

She slings both arms around him, and I want to put my hands between them and push her off. If I don’t get a goddamn hug, then she shouldn’t either.

He keeps it brief as she gushes. “Mal said you looked different, but damn, you lookamazing.” When she pulls away, she doesn’t stop touching him, running her hands up and down his arms like she did with me, both the parts covered with his shirt and his bare skin. I have an insane urge to slap her hands away. He’s my—I mean, she’s my girlfriend. Or…fuck.

I don’t know what any of us are anymore.

“It’s great to see you,” she says giving his biceps a squeeze before catching the look I’m giving her and stepping back.

“Yeah,” he says.

I blow out a breath. We need to get this over with, and I say as much.

“I’ll order pizza,” Kaylin says, heading toward the kitchen.

Bailey and Ryan nod their greetings at each other, and I ask if anyone needs a drink.

Bailey holds up her refillable water jug, and Ryan shakes his head. He looks disconcerted, the line between his eyes more prominent. As he glances around the room like he’s not sure where to put himself, I use my free hand to gesture to the table.

Bailey takes her phone out of the front pocket of her overalls and Ryan sets down his bag to pull out his laptop. I grab minefrom the coffee table and put Stephanie on the couch. She protests, immediately racing after me, but I try to ignore her as she scratches at my leg to get on my lap.

“Anybody have a great idea since we last talked?” I ask in an attempt to both break the ice and get my wayward thoughts on track.

“Does anybody have a book they wrote lying around that we can self-publish? Put the money toward a nice cover and a few well-placed ads?” Bailey asks.

Ryan shifts in his seat, eyes on his laptop. He glances up at her with his brows raised. “I had the same idea.”

“How long would it take to write a book?” I ask.

Bailey shrugs. “I figure it doesn’t have to be good. Just really hyped.”

I don’t get it. “How do you hype a book that sucks?”

“What makes you think it would suck?” Ryan asks, like he’s already written one, and I’ve offended him.

I didn’t mean anything like that, though. “I’m just saying if we don’t have one, maybe we can find a book that doesn’t suck and offer to hype it for a cut of the royalties.”

“Like—start a small PR business?” Bailey asks.

“You’re just pulling this out of your ass, aren’t you?” Ryan says. “Did you come up with an actual idea?”

Stephanie nips at my pants leg. “What about a dog walking business?”

I feel Ryan’s gaze creeping on me.

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