“I know. Thank you.”

“Okay. Enough. Get off me or people will talk.”

I slapped his back once and pulled from his arms, nudging his elbow as I turned back to the bar. “Get used to it. We have to be all over each other for this thing.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Acting.”

“Acting.” He lifted his beer and clinked his mug to mine. “As long as the scene ends and we go back to being brothers without it being weird, that’s all that matters.”

I drank to that.

A SHRILL CRY reverberated through the walls and into my bones. I shivered and scowled at the ceiling. It was eight thirty on a Saturday morning. If I didn’t have a meeting with Charlotte and her crew at nine, I wouldn’t be up right now. Never had I wished I had somewhere else to live more. Somewhere quiet and peaceful.

I doubled-checked myself in the mirror. For the interview, I’d chosen a nice pair of dark jeans and a moss green sweater that brought out the hints of green in my eyes. My white collared shirt poked through just right and gave me a preppy, put-together look. I’d used a bit of product to make my thick hair orderly and shaved so I had an attractive babyface, which I hated. If I left some stubble on my chin, it made me look older, but it was an interview, and I figured presentable was the way to go.

My phone chimed, and I snapped it up.

Asher: I’m outside, and I’m not coming into that crazy house.

Atticus: OMW!

I pocketed my phone and grabbed my designer leather jacket. The one I’d bought with Dad’s money for prom a few years back. This was it. We were officially meeting Charlotte Jones so she could … look at us.

It was too weird.

Asher was parked on the road and was flipping through music when I tumbled into the Jag. He was also wearing a leather jacket and dark jeans, but his were both distressed and full of holes. The T-shirt he sported was a vintage Lenny Kravitz he’d owned since high school. He hadn’t shaved and was sporting a day or two worth of scruff on his face. So much for looking nice for the interview.

He found a song he liked, Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun,” and adjusted the volume before glancing over. He raised a brow as he scanned my outfit. “Aww, look at you all spiffed out and preppy.”

“It’s an interview. You look like you’re ready to go to a concert. Do you even care about me a little bit?”