Asher rolled to his stomach, buried his face in the blankets, and lost it. His shoulders bounced, and he shook his head as he howled.

“You are such a loser,” he said, the blankets muffling his words.

“Yeah, but you love me anyhow.”

He reached up and hooked his arm around my neck, pulling me down beside him. “Fucking right I do.”

And that was where we stayed, enjoying an afternoon nap in each other’s arms.

Chapter Twelve

SOMETIME DURING THE later afternoon, my phone chime woke us up. It was Jay, messaging with dinner details. We were meeting at a chic restaurant in the ritzy part of town my parents ventured to often. It was known for its high-end cuisine and world-renowned chef who’d trained in Europe. A ridiculous amount of diplomas and awards decorated the walls of the restaurant, bragging of his high status among the elites of the world.

The only reason I knew any of this was because Mom raved about him all the time and had, at one time, insisted on dragging us there to eat at least once a month.

“Good thing we aren’t paying for it,” I said, tossing my phone aside after relaying the details to Asher.

“I’d have covered you.”

“You just want in my pants again.”

“It was you who told me the way to your dick was through your stomach.”

“There are a lot of things I wish I’d never shared.”

“Like the nipple thing?”

“Especially the nipple thing.”

“I like having that insight.”

“You exploit it.”

Asher’s dimples appeared, and I didn’t care anymore. God, I loved seeing him happy.

“Dress,” he said, shoving me off the bed. “I have to run home for something nicer to wear if we’re going there.”

“I need to shower fast. Someone jizzed all over me before I fell asleep.”

Asher settled back on the mattress with his hands behind his head, looking smug and self-satisfied as he waited for me to get ready.

I raced around, showering, finding fancy clothes, and fixing my hair. When I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I could almost forget I was living a different life now. The rich spoiled brat stared back at me in his black slacks, snappy white dress shirt, and knit vest. How many times had we been dragged to functions as the trophy Charming twins? More times than I could count. Our behavior was always nothing short of exceptional, as was expected. Mom and Dad didn’t pay money to teach us proper etiquette for us to act like everyone else’s kids.

For once, this dinner had nothing to do with my parents or their lifestyle. It was a result of a job I’d found by myself. A job Asher and I were going to knock out of the ballpark.

A job that went against the societal grain, but whatever.