“I should look at ads for people who want or need roommates. It’d be cheaper.”

“That defeats the purpose of you getting an apartment to give us privacy. Besides, it’s the end of the school year, I doubt anyone is looking.”

I sighed. “True.”

“How about this one?” Asher shoved his phone under my nose.

We were parked on University Way, the hub location for student housing, scanning every available listing for rentals in the area.

The one Asher showed me was a familiar building on the outskirts of the north campus. The outside was well maintained. The inside was respectable, if not a little small. It came with appliances—a must—and had laundry in the building.

“It looks expensive. How much?”

Asher punched at the screen of his phone and showed me. “It’s on the higher end, but it’s still in your range.”

I took his phone and flipped through the pictures again. The balcony overlooked the campus arboretum and greenhouses. The bedroom was tiny with a squishy little closet. The kitchen seemed functional. I wasn’t that spoiled brat anymore who needed extravagances—I couldn’t afford to be—so the apartment held appeal. It might not have been the most beautiful place listed, but it wasn’t falling apart, and it gave off a homey vibe. I could see myself living there.

“Can we go look at it?”

“I’ll call and see.” Asher took his phone back and arranged for us to view it in half an hour.

While we waited, he took us to a drive-thru café and ordered us lattes, then we found the apartment’s location and drank our drinks as we waited in the car.

“Do you think anyone around here follows Charlotte or reads her books?” Asher asked after a while.

“Probably. This city has close to four hundred thousand people in it. There have to be gay romance readers everywhere. Right here on campus too, I bet.”

“Do you think people will recognize us?”

I pondered. “Maybe. But it’s just a job. We modeled. We acted. No one will ever know how far we took it. That’s for us.”

Asher nodded and sipped his drink. “Does it bother you if people we know see our faces on those covers or in that trailer?”

“Not really. I don’t give a shit, to be honest.” I paused and scanned Asher. “What about you? You’re straight. Does it bother you?”

“Am I? I don’t know what I am anymore, but no, it doesn’t bother me. I thought it would, you know? Being portrayed on the cover of a gay romance novel with my brother. But now?” He shook his head. “Now, I don’t care.”

Asher stared out the window at the building we were waiting to view. It was Sunday, so the street was quiet. I wondered how busy it got during the week.