Page 51 of Finance Bros

I smile because finally—Idid it.Me. I feel fucking high off the blush reddening his cheeks and the laughter shaking his broad shoulders.

I wonder what I’d feel like if I made him come?

Whoa. What the fuck?

I clear my throat, my own flush creeping up my neck.On that note.“I’ll wait to hear from you,” I say before my semi gets any firmer. I leave him at the table, the sound of his fading laughter still ringing in my ears.

11

RYAN

Deacon isn’t home tonight. He left a note saying he’d probably be out until morning, so that’s lucky and a good start. Our awkwards don’t mix well, and while Bailey and Malcolm aren’t people I’m desperately trying to impress or anything, I don’t want any side-eyes regarding how little my roommate and I speak to each other. I’d have to do introductions, and Deacon would have to say words, and it’s just a whole fracas I didn’t want to deal with. I’m glad I won’t have to.

Without him here, I can focus all my attention on Mal—his role in the project, I mean. Not his sudden interest in my daily habits.

The thing about my apartment with its living room gym is that the only place to be comfortable is my bedroom. The word I’d use to describe it is cozy, and it’s where I spend the vast majority of my time at home. I’ve got a flat screen mounted to the wall, a desk where I work and eat if I’m not eating in bed, and one of those giant beanbags over by the window where I sometimes read or take a nap. It’s big enough to seat two people, but in the same way a love seat does—right next to each other.

But between that, the bed, and the desk chair, no one needsto be touching. I grab my specially purchased pet hair remover that I use on furniture and start furiously scrubbing cat hair from every surface. Whitesnake is in my head.Here I Go Againon my own. Down the only road I’ve ever known…Luckily, I know all the words to this one. Mal’s dad played it a lot in the mornings growing up for some reason. My mom loved it.

Once I’m satisfied with the lack of fur, I clean out the litter box in the bathroom and pray Bud doesn’t decide to use it while anyone’s here.

Just before seven, I light a stick of incense and gulp a glass of water. I worked up a light sweat, but not enough that I feel like I need to take another shower. I already took one at the gym. I wash my hands, run my wet hands through my hair, and the doorbell rings.

I don’t know why I was so prepared for it to be Bailey, but seeing Malcolm on my doorstep makes my breath catch. I clear my throat and steady my breathing. He’s wearing a lightweight white sweater which is such a good look on him, and then khaki cargo shorts that aren’t. But the sight of his calves, the golden hair on golden skin and his bare ankles—I don’t know—it does something to me I’m not at all surprised by anymore.

I’ve got a thing for legs, and I guarantee I know when it started—tangled up in his.

Those.

“My face is up here.”

I glare at said face. “Fuck off.” I step out of the way and let him in. I’m about to close the door when I spot Bailey coming up the steps. She smiles and waves, not at all like the evil-eyed woman I sat across from that first day. She’s downright bubbly when you take her out of the office. Still a little scary, but more like a good horror movie. She’sGet Out, ifGet Outwere a person. Entertaining and keeps me on my toes.

“How’s my billion dollar black cat?” she asks.

I flex my bicep for her, and she laughs, lifting a tote bag. “I brought a cheeseball.”

“Bud will love that.”

“I brought him something, too.” She sticks her hand in the tote as she approaches the door and pulls out a stick with a tiny stuffed mouse dangling from a string.

“A classic,” I tell her.

“It’s filled with catnip. You mentioned he’s a fan.”

“Do I talk about him that much?”

“You do in your comments.”

Once she’s inside, I turn to find Malcolm right there, looming over my shoulder.Thatalmost gets a jump scare out of me. “Did you bring me anything?” he asks Bailey.

“A cheeseball, sweetheart. Like I said.”

“Sweetheart? Wow, I’m growing on you.”

“Pfft. It’s got onions in it.”

“Awesome,” he says.

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