CHAPTER FIVE~ I Need That Beer Right Fucking Now!

Nick's POV

I pulled out my phone and the iPad to Asher. “Have you ever heard of this author?”

He squirmed when he saw the two men on the cover, arms around each other, naked torsos crushed together.

The one model was nibbling the other’s scruffy chin while the second looked to be midmoan. It was all kinds of hot and kinky.

Noah shoved the iPad back. “No. Why? What the fuck are you reading? Is that p**n?”

“It’s gay erotica. Not p**n.”

“That’s nice. Why are you sharing your wack material with me? Dude, I love you, but… nahh.” He shuddered and waved a hand at the cover image like I should know how it made him feel.

“Adeline Bloom is a huge, New York Times best-selling author. She writes gay romance and gay erotica and sells millions of copies of her books. She’s crazy popular … apparently.” I hadn’t heard of her until last week, but hey, I recognized her merit.

Noah's face was all contorted and weird. “And?”

I licked my lips and turned off my iPad. Finding my phone in my pocket, I looked up the advertisement I’d responded to.

I didn’t hand it to him right away but sat straighter, bracing and preparing for a potential right hook.

“So, about a week ago, I was searching the internet, looking for better work. I’m drowning. I don’t want to quit school. No one will give me a loan, and I hate the gas station. Anyhow, in my searches, I came across an ad on this woman’s website,” I swallowed tightly.

“She’s announced a new series she’s planning for this coming year and is looking for specific models to be featured on six planned books and to make trailers to help sell them. They’re like movie trailers but for books.”

Noah's face brightened. “Wait. So you applied to be a model for her book covers? Holy shit. Dude, that’s freaking cool as hell.”

I cringed and stared at my fingers as I twisted them on my lap. “It is cool. But there’s more to it.”

“Okay, what?”

I blew out a breath, unable to meet Noah’s eyes. “I said she was looking for specific models. As in, her new series has … a certain criteria that has to be met in order for a person to qualify for the job.”

“Like blond hair, blue eyes?”

“Um … kinda? More like, must be step brothers.”

The air in the room grew still. The sound of my own labored breathing was all I could hear.

Chancing a glance at my stepbrother, I almost snorted when I was met with a dramatically raised brow and a look of what-the-fuck on his face.

He didn’t move or respond. All he did was stare and stare and stare.

I waved a hand in front of his face. “Did I break you? Say something please.”

Noah wet his lips and threaded fingers through his hair, shaking away the last dredges of his shock. “Back up and help me understand what you just said. I think I’m confused.”

Yeah, probably not.

“Adeline Bloom is planning a new series featuring step brothers with different body builds. It’s some new sensational trope everyone is all gaga over. It’s called the forbidden trope.”

I held up my hands, warding off an attack, but Noah didn’t move apart from his nostrils flaring. I couldn’t be sure he was breathing at all otherwise.

“So, she’s looking for sexy step brothers to be featured on her book covers and to film a few trailer videos, and I thought, we’re all sexy and we're stepbrothers, so why not us?”

Noah's face grew hard. His lips firmed. His gaze darkened and bore into me with the pain of a thousand needles.

So, I threw in the black card. The one and only reason I even considered this whole thing to begin with. “And it pays a minimum of twenty-five thousand dollars.”

Then I stilled and waited.

At the rate my heart was beating, I was pretty sure if Noah didn’t kill me first, I’d be dead in ten seconds anyhow of a heart attack.

It was a full, painfully long minute before he spoke.

“Forbidden Romance? Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes.”

He blinked about thirty or forty times in rapid succession. “Incest between step brothers?”

It was time I handed him my phone with the advertisement.

He took it, eyes leery and untrusting. For a beat, he stared at me with a wrinkle in his nose, then he ducked his head and read.

He stared at my phone for far longer than it would take to read the short ad ten times over.

And he kept right on staring at it.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” I said again, squeaking a little. “It would pay for my next year of school and possibly get me out of Ashur's house. It’d be a launching point to get my feet on the ground.”

Noah had lost a few shades of color, but he still remained quiet and unable to tear his gaze from the phone.

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just acting. You know, the director yells “action!” and then we get into character. He snaps some pictures or films a bit for the trailers, and then, boom! We become ourselves again.”

Noah set my phone down on his dresser and stood, pulling his jacket back on without saying a thing.

“Where are you going?”

“I need that beer, right fucking now.”

I scrambled off the bed and repacked my iPad into my backpack before snagging my phone and coat too, fearing Noah would drive away without me. He didn’t look happy.

At least he wasn’t putting me in a chokehold and waiting for me to tap out.

Yet.