Page 47 of Finance Bros
Me
Unless you have eyeliner, mascara and concealer lying around, you’ll have to find a 24 hour store to get all the supplies you need.
Malcolm
Is that all it was? What did you need with mascara anyway? You’ve got great lashes.
Well, now I’m just supremely fucked.
Me
Your lashes are fine
Did he ask? No. I just said that. For no reason. As if I want to talk about what Malcolm looks like. I need to go to bed. I’m losing my inhibitions. My mind.
Malcolm
You think?
I am not fucking answering that.
Me
Go to bed, Mal
Malcolm
Yeah, okay. Good night.
I flip the phone face down on the mattress and close my eyes, but that’s a mistake because my mind transports me straight back into his arms. Into the moment I pressed him to the wall, and he turned the tables on me. When I felt the clench of his hand in my hair and the throb that made my cock rise, I had to force myself to push his hips away.
How is it still possible to want him after all this time and all the shit he threw at me—both the outright disdain, the constant humiliation, and the complete indifference? All incredibly painful. Deserved, maybe? And yet too much. He broke my heart and my brain. He shattered parts of me I can never put back together. Primarily—trust. Specifically, my ability to trusthim.
But I can’t ignore him either. He’s in my life again, temporarily at least, and if we somehow salvage a friendship, he could be around for years. I’ll get to live through him gettingmarried, having kids. Possibly even with Kaylin, who I don’t entirely hate.
I used to think she was an opportunist, but I also knew Mal was better boyfriend material than I was and extremely hard to resist. I honestly can’t believe they’re still together. I’d have sworn when they first started dating, it was just to stick it to me—Mal’s revenge for me fucking up our friendship. But then they just—never broke up.
I don’t know what he means by being on a break with her. If that just means she’s out of town, and she’s allowed to dance with other people, or if it’s an official—let’s think this through before we get really serious kind of break.
I hate that I care which it is. It doesn’t matter. I also hate that I have so many questions I can never ask. I hate that I’m reading into the hug and these texts. Hiscompliments. I hate that they mean more to me than the hundreds of similar ones I’ve gotten from strangers on the internet, or the ones Norah texted me just before I got into bed.
I hate that I’m thinking about what I’m going to wear tomorrow and whether lip balm would make me slightly more attractive to him.
I hate that this is happening to me. Thatheis happening to me.
Again.
10
MALCOLM
For the third time this morning, Ryan laughs, and once again, it’s got me turning my head. Isla follows my gaze.
“Trouble concentrating?” she asks, annoyed. “I know this finance stuff can get boring, but you did sign up for it.”
“It’s not the work,” I tell her, doing my best to ignore her tone. “I think I had too much caffeine today.”
It’s got nothing to do with coffee, though, or “this finance stuff.” It has to do with Bailey’s stupid joke that cracked Ryan up during the morning huddle, and then Miguel showing him something on his phone and making him laugh again. And after that, they’d leaned their heads together and Miguel had talked directly into his ear making Ryan grin like a dope the entire time. And Charlie must really be a joy to work with because he’s had Ryan smiling since he sat down with him. Now he’s laughing loud enough to turn heads.
