Whoever it is, they don’t quietly step in and close the door softly behind them, like I know is the etiquette for this room. Instead light floods in from the hallway, ruining the whole ambiance of the room.
 
 It reminds me of the time my oldest brother stormed into my bedroom when I was making out with a pillow to practice my kissing.
 
 He’d assumed I had a boy in there. The memory of him frowning in confusion, then turning around and walking out without saying a word still makes my cheeks pink up.
 
 “Can you close the door please?” one of the men on the bed says, his voice unexpectedly high pitched. “We’re busy here.”
 
 My mouth twitches. I wonder if I can put this in a book.
 
 But instead of closing the door, the rude intruder walks the rest of the way inside. And that’s when my heart stops beating.
 
 Because he’s striding toward me, his lips pressed together, his expression full of fury as he reaches for my arm.
 
 It’s Asher Fitzgerald. Fuck my life. What are the chances of this?
 
 “Francie?” my best friend’s much-older brother says, his voice ominously low. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
 
 His fingers wrap around my wrist. Not hard, but firm. They’re warm, almost possessive. It’s the kind of touch that shoots heat up my arm and settles low in my belly, even as my brain screams danger.
 
 I blink at him, my heart hammering. Because this isn’t the friendly Asher I remember from childhood summers. He looks like someone else entirely. Taller, broader, sharper. His face is hard and beautiful, his jaw flexing as he stares at me like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.
 
 Neither can I.
 
 His fingers burn into my skin, strong and tight as I try to get control of my mind, because currently I can’t think. I can’t speak. I can’t do anything, I’m frozen in place.
 
 “I…” My mouth opens and closes like a fish. “We aren’t supposed to use real names.”
 
 The tension in his hand tightens just a fraction. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says, his voice low.
 
 “Neither should you.”
 
 His brows rise. His eyes are ice. But I see the flicker the second he realizes I’m not backing down. And maybe, just maybe, I’m not the little girl he remembers anymore.
 
 “Can you take this outside?” the high-pitched naked man asks from the bed. “This really is doing nothing for my libido.”
 
 Asher shakes his head, like he’s as dumbfounded as I am about this whole situation, which is only a small consolation, because pure, unadulterated embarrassment is starting to rush through me.
 
 Oh. My. God. Why does this kind of thing always happen to me? I’m going to kill Charlie, I really am.
 
 “Seriously, I was so close,” the woman says, shaking her head.
 
 “I’m sorry.” I shoot what I hope looks like an apologetic look at her. Not that I can bring my eyes to the bed right now. “I was just leaving.” I pull my wrist from Asher’s grasp. “Feel free to continue. Hope you have fun.” I pause for a second and then it comes. “Thank you!”
 
 Mortification causes me to practically run out of the room into what is thankfully, an empty hallway. A second later I hear the door click shut, and the sound of footsteps behind me.
 
 “I’m leaving,” I huff at him. “I told you that.”
 
 “And I’m making sure you’re safe.” Asher’s voice is low. He still sounds pissed. “Francie, will you just slow the hell down?”
 
 I turn around and my gaze clashes with his stupidly piercing blue eyes. In the cold light of the hallway, I see he’s wearing a suit, just like the men who walked into room five. Is that his kink? Does he like men as well as women? My face flushes, because right now I’m imagining his broad, muscled, six-two frame completely naked, pleasing the woman on the bed along with the other men.
 
 My thighs squeeze together.
 
 “We’re not supposed to use real names in here,” I hiss at him, because I don’t like the way my whole body heated up at his closeness. I’ve known this man for half of my life. Autumn – his sister – and I have been best friends since we both ended up fully clothed in a lake at summer camp as kids, thanks to an initiation prank.
 
 Every summer we’d gone back to the same camp, growing up together. She would invite me to stay with her family in their huge house on Liberty Island, right off the east coast, and I’d invite her to my dad’s equally huge house in Virginia.
 
 And yes, Asher was sometimes around, just like Autumn’s other brothers – she has four of them – and her younger sister, Eden. But her brothers were older than us. Grown men.