Asher snorted, completely out of character, but he didn’t break contact. He chuckled for another second, then coughed and focused again.

“You’ll find someone. And it shouldn’t be that Jay guy. You need someone who will treat you right.” His hands glided up, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “You need someone who will—” His hands stopped on my upper chest, and his words fell away. He made a motion of squeezing and then whispered all husky-like, “Hey, doll, what happened to your boobs?”

I choked and fell away from him, laughing and snorting so hard I tumbled onto his bed in a heap. Asher fell into his desk chair, laughing just as hard.

“What the hell was that?” I asked when I could form words.

Asher’s cheeks were pink, and he clutched his stomach as his hysterics calmed. “I was pretending you were that girl at the bar. The whole image was shot to shit when I discovered your lack of boobs. She has amazing tits, and your lack thereof killed the fantasy.”

I covered my nonexistent boobs and guffawed. “I can’t believe you were pretending I was someone else. Rude. And here I thought you cared, Ender. For shame. Plus, these boobs are all the rage.” I gave them a squeeze and puckered my lips.

Asher rolled his eyes. “End scene, asshole. God, you’re such a nerd.”

I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling. “That wasn’t bad. Up until the boob thing.”

“You think?”

I shrugged and glanced at my brother. “We were touching and getting kinky, and I managed to stay in character. Sort of. Our acting could use some work.”

“True. It was my fault. Should we try again?”

“Maybe don’t pretend I’m a girl this time?”

“Yeah, ’cause pretending you’re a guy makes this better for me.”

“Shut up and do it. Maybe you’ll discover a secret love for dick you didn’t know about.”

“Not likely.”

I jumped off the bed and faced him. “Nice touch with the Jay thing, by the way.”

“He was eye-fucking you earlier.”

“Maybe, but he was wearing a ring, so it meant nothing. At least he recognized all this hotness.” I smoothed my hands down my body and fluttered my lashes.

“God help me. Okay, action!”

I straightened, wide-eyed and panicked because he’d given me no warning or time to prepare.

Asher—no, Ender—stalked toward me, hunger all over his face. He grabbed me by the waist and dragged me into his space. I meeped and stumbled against him, hands braced on his broad chest, pushing him away as he drew me closer. His arms encircled me, crushing me against his hard body. Bare chest to bare chest. Our faces inches apart.

Asher was deep into character, and it was … daunting and kinda hot.

Wait. What? No. Not hot!