The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7)(46)

“Sorry. I just...” I waved my hands to let him know I needed to catch my breath. Then I blew out a long, steady exhale and explained, “This is where Pick told me to take you.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, frowning hard. “And...why did he do that?”

“Uh...you know.” I waved his question away. “He’ll probably fill you in when he gets here, so...I’ll just let him explain everything.”

His lips parted as if he wanted to ask more, but with the adorable way his eyebrows kept quirking, he didn’t seem to know what he wanted to ask first.

“So, I stopped by tonight to apologize to you about earlier,” I rushed out, totally winging it, saying the first thing that came to mind.

Again, he looked thrown off balance by what I had to say. But a second later, he shook his head. “Why? I’m the one who made things weird.”

“No, you didn’t. You—wait, what? You didn’t make anything weird. Why would you think that?”

His shoulders tensed and he turned sideways away from me as if to shield some of himself. Looking totally uneasy in his entire body, he flailed out a hand. “You know,” he mumbled, not glancing my way. “By telling you so much shit about myself.”

I blinked. “Um...isn’t that what you do when you get to know someone; share little things about yourself?”

“Yeah, but...” He finally looked at me. “Those weren’t little things. And they’re not things I share with people...ever.”

“Oh.” Realizing he’d opened up to me more than he usually did, the significance of the moment took my breath straight from my lungs. A heaviness filled my chest, and I just wanted to...I don’t even know. But I certainly wasn’t taking Asher’s gift of confidence for granted.

So I shook my head, my voice softening, “You didn’t make anything weird...not at all.”

I didn’t realize I’d reached up to smooth my hair back behind my ear until my fingers grazed the short strands, startling me and reminding me I was still in guy mode. So I cleared my throat and stiffened my shoulders, trying for a more manly stance.

Asher cocked his head to the side as he frowned at me. “Then what were you apologizing for, and why did you race away as if I’d freaked you out?”

“Well, I...I was apologizing for having to rush off in the middle of our conversation. And I had to rush off because....because...” Shit, why was my brain so dead right now? I couldn’t think up one little lie to tell him.

No way was I going to spill the truth and let him know I had just figured out I was his Incubus shirt girl. I wasn’t sure I could let him know that...ever.

So, I sputtered a moment longer before saying, “My roommate! Yeah, Jodi. You know, you met her last night. She had just gotten off work, and I said I’d pick her up this evening, give her a ride.” Lie. “I remembered she was waiting on me, so I had to hurry, or she would’ve been pissed.”

Lie.

Lie.

Lie.

All the fibs churned like acid in my stomach, so I turned away, focusing my attention on a bookshelf against the wall, mostly full of small framed photographs.

“So, you live with her? With Jodi? Huh. Guess I didn’t know that.”

“Mmm hmm,” I murmured, grateful I didn’t have to lie about that at least. Then I reached for my hair again, and nearly growled at myself when I remembered I didn’t have long tresses at the moment to tuck behind my ear. Dammit, why did I have to have such a girly nervous habit?

“What’s that like?” Asher asked. “Living with a woman?”

“It’s fine. Why would it—” Remembering I was supposed to be a gay guy, rooming with a straight woman, I paused. “I mean, other than the fact we fight over all the gorgeous men, it’s just...like having any other roommate.”

“Oh.” From Asher’s voice, he sounded more confused by my answer than clarified.

Glancing back at him and desperate to change the subject before I revealed anything I shouldn’t, I waved a finger between him and the pictures. “So...you and Pick. What’s up with that?”

Leery suspicion instantly filled his eyes. “Why? What do you mean?”

I shrugged. “No sé, I don’t know. It just seems like there’s more between you two than just...you know, boss and employee.” Then I turned back to the multitude of pictures. A majority of them featured a blonde woman and two adorable little toddlers...except one. “Then there’s the fact he has a framed picture of you in his office, while he has none of his other bartenders up here.”

“He does?” Asher appeared at my side, and his mouth fell open when he took in the shot I pointed to.

In the frame, Asher stood on stage, singing into a microphone as he strummed from a guitar. The other members of Non-Castrato blurred out to the sides; he was obviously the main focus of the picture.

“Shit,” he murmured, staring hard. “I had no idea he had this.”

“Looks like this shelf is reserved for family pictures,” I mused aloud.

Asher blew out a long breath and ran his hand over his hair. “I guess...” He started slowly. “Yeah. We’re family. He’s... my brother.”

Even though I’d pretty much been leading my guesses toward an assumption along those lines, hearing him actually confirm it had me shaking my head in confusion.