“How can you even look at me right now?” The pleading look in his eyes was my undoing.

“Because you aren’t the only one who’s been feeling that way.” And that was the truth of it, no matter how many times I’d refused to admit it.

“What?”

“I feel it too.”

Then I kissed him. Right there in the dark where only we would know the truth. I put everything into that connection. That little voice I’d been ignoring and denying for weeks won. Fuck it if it was wrong. Fuck it if we weren’t supposed to feel like this for each other. I wasn’t going to let Asher think he was the only one confused about what was happening.

For a brief moment, he froze, unsure what to do with my advances. Then he whimpered and clung, dragging me onto his lap as he kissed me back, his salty tears mingling with the mint of his toothpaste.

We didn’t come up for air for a long time. The kiss was desperate. We couldn’t get close enough. Asher’s mouth was everything and more now that I allowed myself to experience it as Atticus and not Elliot.

When we came apart, panting and still unable to release our hold on one another, Asher asked, “What do we do?”

“We dry your tears”—I ran a thumb under each of his eyes—“and pull our shit together and get back upstairs. We play the fuck out of Ender and Elliot and make that jerk Lewis eat his words. Then, when the day is over, we go somewhere private and talk.”

“But—”

I crushed my mouth over his, shutting down any and all protests or overthinking. He sighed against my mouth.

“No buts. No one needs to know. We go upstairs right now and give them authentic twincest. No one needs to know it’s not acting.”

Asher smiled against my lips, and my heart skipped, relieved at the small taste of his joy. “Really?”

“Yup. Who better to play these two men than us?”

He circled my waist under my robe, his hands warm against my bare skin. “You don’t think this is messed up?”

“Oh, it’s all kinds of messed up, but I’m beyond giving a shit.”

Then we were kissing again. It was sloppy and delicious. For once, my head wasn’t battling with my identity.

I was Atticus Charming, and I was kissing my brother.

Chapter Eleven

“HELLO?” THE SOUND of Jay’s voice outside the storage room jarred us apart.

I slipped off Asher’s knee and stood, backing up a step in the dark while he scrambled to his feet too.

“In here,” I called.

A phone’s flashlight app swept the floor a few feet away then rose and shone in my face, making me turn my head and hold up a shielding hand.

“There you are. Is Asher with you?”