“A DuBois saying something nice about my character? Someone check the temperature in hell.” “I’m not my brother.” I’d been biased against Asher for reasons that had nothing to do with Vincent, but the more time we spent together, the harder it was to hold on to that initial animosity. “No.” Asher’s gaze held mine for a fraction longer than was customary. “You’re definitely not.” His words floated softly between us. My skin buzzed to life, and I was suddenly hyperaware of the fact that we’d been naked in the same house—his house—less than an hour ago. Me in my bath, him in his shower. That
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