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.
I glanced sideways at him. “Come again?”
He shook his head as if the whole thing baffled him too. “No one really knows yet...not officially, anyway. But, uh, he...turns out, after I started playing the song ‘Ceilings,’ I learned he’d been abandoned by his mother at birth at the hospital, and...”
“Holy shit,” I murmured. “Your boss ended up being your long-lost half-brother? How the hell does that even happen?”
Asher glanced at me, his expression dazed. “I ask myself the same question every day.”
“So, wait. How long have you known about this? You’ve only been playing ‘Ceilings’ a couple—”
“Weeks,” he finished for me. “We got test results back around three weeks ago. And it’s still...really new.”
I blew out a breath. “Dude. That’s just...”
When I shook my head, he nodded. “I know.”
“Why haven’t you guys officially announced it?” I wondered, fearing the worst for poor Asher. “Doesn’t he want to be your brother?”
He nodded, turning back to the picture of himself. “Yeah. Strangely, he does. I’m actually the one holding back.”
I squinted. “So...you don’t like him?”
“No, I do.” He turned to me, his gaze desperate and seeking. “That’s the problem. He’s this really awesome, stand-up guy, right? And...he’s my brother. That’s just...better than I ever expected it could be. But...he’s going to ask about her.”
I shook my head. “About who?”
“About our mom,” he ground out. “It’s only logical, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you want to know about your mother if you just met a brother who knew her and you never did?”
When I opened my mouth to answer that yeah, I guess I would, he kept talking.