Sunday was slow at West End Pumps. I’d been lucky and had been able to keep warm inside most of the night. I’d exhausted my phone games and scanned my Instagram more than once. Bored, I pulled up Asher’s contact and stared at it for a long time. This thing between us was yet unnamed. We’d explored physically but hadn’t talked much about what it meant. Since I’d never been one to tiptoe around anything, especially with my twin brother, I decided to confront it head-on.

Atticus: Are we dating?

It took ten minutes for him to respond. I knew he was probably dying in bed, hungover, and wouldn’t want to be harassed, but I didn’t care. While I waited for a response, I was pulled away to fill up a rusty old Cherokee. By the time I got back inside, his answer awaited.

Asher: We’re brothers.

Or rather a nonanswer.

Atticus: Your point?

Asher: We can’t date. It’s illegal, I think. Or weird at least. Definitely weird.

Atticus: We’re fucking. That’s weirder.

Asher: We haven’t fucked yet

Atticus: Semantics. Frotting is fucking. Exchanging blowjobs is fucking. Cumming all over each other = fucking. Just cuz my ass isn’t involved yet doesn’t mean we aren’t fucking.

I wondered if he would pick up on my use of the word yet. There was a long stretch of time before I got a response.

Asher: Subtle was never your thing.

Atticus: Nope. So are we dating? Not that I don’t fuck guys I’m not dating, but I was curious how exclusive this was or wasn’t.

Asher: WTF?! Why? Is there another guy you’re fucking? Who is he?

I snorted and covered my mouth, glancing out the large front window of the shop to ensure no cars were pulling in.

Atticus: Wow, jealous much?

Asher: Why are you asking about exclusivity?

Atticus: It was a question.

Asher: How can we date? We can’t be open about this. People can’t know.

Atticus: I know. I just wanted to know if I should be worried you’ll go off and get a girlfriend, and that this means nothing to you. I’m a softy and don’t want to get my heart broken.

Asher: I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.

Atticus: Are we exclusive at least?

Another long pause ensued before Asher’s next text came through.

Asher: Yeah. I don’t want you fucking around with other guys.

Atticus: Do you want to be the only one fucking my ass?

Asher: You have no idea.

Then he sent another text right away, and his hesitancy and nerves came through in the single word. I could hear him saying it.

Asher: Atti?

Atticus: Yeah?