Page 46 of Ruin Me Gently

Not this time. This time I wanted to understand.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Ah, dude! You’re up!”

I grimaced, blinking at Finn. He was wearing a shit-eating grin that definitely didn’t belong on a man with a swollen cheek and a black eye the size of a golf ball.

“What the fuck happened?” My voice came out hoarse, like it had been dragged over sandpaper.

“Ah, the age-old question. One might even say… a classic.”

“Finn.”

“Come on, buddy.” He gestured vaguely at himself. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific. Which part of last night are you referring to?”

I frowned. “The part where you look like you got curb stomped.”

Finn clicked his tongue. “Oh, that. Yeah, well, turns out some people don’t appreciate constructive criticism.”

I scowled. “Constructive—” the words cut off as a sharp sting flared across my mouth. I swiped my tongue over my lower lip.Split. “Finn.”

His grin widened. “Yes, dearest?”

“Why do I have a split lip?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Hoo, boy. Alright. So. You remember the strip club?”

I did not remember the strip club. In fact, I barely remembered leaving the penthouse. “For the sake of my sanity, let’s assume I do not.”

“Right. Well. That’s where it all started.”

“Of course it is.”

He pointed at me, his face far too smug for a man who still had dried blood on his collar. “And I just want it noted, for the record, you were having a great time.”

My eyes widened, stomach turning.No, no, no. “I didn’t pay for a dance, did I?”

“Oh, hell no,” he laughed. “You, my friend, were on a differentkind of mission.”

That was… not reassuring. “And what kind of mission was that?”

He wheezed, struggling to get the words out. “You were giving financial advice.”

Silence. I stared at him. “I’m sorry?”

“Dude. You—oh my God—you sat one of the dancers down and started helping her plan a retirement fund.”

My soul left my body. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I was.” Finn wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “You kept saying shit like,‘The industry is profitable and volatile, you’ve gotta diversify your investments.’And then—then—you started pulling up fucking stock charts on your phone.”

I dropped my head into my hands. “Kill me.”

“I’d never. It was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” Finn sighed. “Anyway, that was all going great until—”

“Until what?”

He leaned against the dresser, stretching out. “So, from what I gathered, one of the guys there was talking shit, being a total asshole to one of the dancers, and you—” he slapped his chest proudly “—stood up like some kind of avenging tech bro and started explaining the ethics of wealth and redistribution.”

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