“You know, this conversation is a waste of time. Even if I said yes, I highly doubt we’re what this chick would want for her covers. We aren’t exactly models. We are two plain, ordinary guys. Nothing special to look at. I can’t even get this chick to notice me.” He gestured at the bartender. “We aren’t special, Atti.”

I tugged my phone from my pocket, pulled up the email I’d received the day before, and placed it in front of him.

He read, scrubbed a hand over his face, and closed his eyes. “Fuck me. You already applied?”

“I didn’t think she’d pick us either. It was a joke.”

Asher sighed and drank deeply from his beer. “It’s weird,” he said when he set his mug down.

“I know.”

“I don’t know if I can do it. Let’s say I wanted to help you out. Hypothetically. I honestly don’t know if I could … model with you like that. Like on that book cover you showed me. And videos? What does she expect? Kissing? Groping? Fondling? Nakedness? Jesus!” He blew out a shaky breath.

“I don’t know. It’s not like it would mean anything. It’s not like we don’t know everything about each other already. Your nakedness doesn’t bother me.”

“My nakedness against your nakedness bothers me.”

I cringed, imagining it. Yeah, it made me squirmy too.

“But it doesn’t mean anything. It’s a job.”

“I know. Acting. Right.”

“Exactly. Acting. My next best option is being a sugar baby.”

“What the hell is that?”

“A fancy prostitute.”

Asher sagged against the bar, dropping his forehead into the condensation puddle his mug had left behind.

“Ash, I’d rather do uncomfortable stuff with my brother for money, knowing it means nothing, than sell myself to some random guy online who I don’t know or trust. I’m gonna have to drop out of school. I fucked up. I should have never—”

Asher grabbed my arm and swung me around to face him, anger simmering in his hazel eyes. “You didn’t fuck up. Being gay isn’t wrong. Mom and Dad fucked up, okay?” He studied my face, pity and hurt on the surface. He’d been thrown in the middle of all this mess, and it wasn’t fair.

“Will you help me out? Please?”

He wet his lips and scanned the bar once more before nodding. There was a note of hesitancy in the action, but it was definitely a nod. “Yeah. Okay, fine. Email them back and set something up.”

My heart skipped at his acceptance, and I dove into his arms, hugging the stuffing out of him. He chuckled, and the stress and anxiety of the past two months leaked away. His arms came around me, and he hugged me back.

“Paybacks are a bitch, just so you know. You owe me big time.”