“You see, here’s the problem. One drink will probably turn to two, which, knowing me, will become three and then six, and then I’m drunk and stupid, and all I can think about is sex because I’m twenty-one and horny all the fucking time. Then we fuck while Dean, the man with the gun and the face of a killer, watches. Next I know, he’s kicking in my door because you went home and couldn’t stop raving about how tight and amazing my ass was. Which is true, by the way. Not to be a tease or anything. Then, he either beats me up or puts a gun to my head because jealousy is a thing. Doesn’t anyone watch 20/20? Am I the only one? So, it’s best I say no now while I have my wits about me. You’re totally hot, but you’re also unavailable in my book. Sorry.”

Jay wore a broad grin. Even my speech didn’t dissuade him. I was losing my touch. “You’re cute, Atticus. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Yeah, well, I’d say I’m one of a kind, but—” I thumbed over my shoulder to Asher, who was watching our little exchange with a frown.

Jay studied Asher. “All right. I have another proposition for you. You two are doing this gig for the money, right? I can tell that’s the driving force behind why you took it. Not the fame. Not the modeling experience. You two needed the cash for some reason.”

“So? That’s none of your business.”

“Wanna make another easy ten grand?”

I narrowed my eyes. Jay hadn’t stopped looking at Asher, sizing him up and down. “What are you talking about?”

“You two are hot together. It’s a major turn-on. I’m talking, you and your brother come and give Dean and me a private show.”

“I’m not following.”

Lewis clapped his hands, snapping us away from our conversation before I could get clarification. “Okay. We are almost an hour behind schedule. Do you think we can get this show on the road sometime today, folks?”

Asher moved in beside me, close enough his shoulder pressed against mine. He had tunnel vision, and it was Jay in his sights.

Jay winked at me. “Think about it.” Then he ducked away before Ash could say anything.

“What was that about? Think about what?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Come on. Let’s get this done. I wanna get out of here.”

I couldn’t be sure I understood what Jay was alluding to. A private show? Did he mean like what we were doing for Lewis? The kissing and touching and insinuations of sex? Or did he mean sex? For ten grand, he had to mean all of it, especially when I knew about certain aspects of his and Dean’s relationship.