The weight of their stares pressed against me like a physical force—Jane's eyes bright with barely contained curiosity, Asher's gaze sharp and probing, both of them leaning across the cafeteria table as if the answer I held was the key to some great mystery. I let out a quiet sigh, the sound barely audible beneath the ambient roar of the cafeteria, and finally surrendered the title they had been pressing for since we sat down.
"The name of the novel is 50 EROTICA COMPILATIONS," I said, my voice dropping to a near-whisper despite the noise around us, "written by WORLDCUP."
Asher's eyebrows lifted the very second the words left my mouth, arching upward in a smooth, dramatic arc of recognition.
He leaned a little closer across the table, his forearms knocking against his half-empty tray, i
