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don’t think he really is, I think it’s an act.”
    “That makes him baby-animal cute?”
    “Yeah.” Sebastian had to clear his throat. “It kinda makes him seem vulnerable.”
    He could hear Sophie breathing. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re in love.”
    Sebastian burst out laughing, then mocked her for most of the rest of the conversation, like a good older brother should.
    Little sisters were annoying. After he got off the phone with her, the “love” thing stuck in his head long after he’d finished in the kitchen and wandered into his bedroom to study. He stared at the page of Herodotus he’d been trying to read. He wasn’t so much translating from the ancient Greek as thinking about modern love.
    Presumably he was capable of falling in love, right? He was twenty-eight, and he hadn’t really had a serious boyfriend. No one had ever caught his interest that way. What if the reason they hadn’t was because he could only fall in love with straight guys?
    He realized he’d actually sat up straight at that thought. Jesus, he was losing it. That was just asinine.
    He settled back against the headboard and shook it off.
    Love. Riiiiight.
    Besides, look at their father. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t capable of falling in love at all.
    Or worse, maybe—again, like their father—Sebastian was only capable of falling in love once, with someone who was totally wrong. Like, destroy-his-life wrong. Like, have-kids-with-him-then-run-off-with-his-coke-dealer wrong.
    Shit, he’d sat up again. Shut up . This was worse than telling ghost stories around a campfire. Was he going to have to sleep with the light on? Fuck, he hated the aftermath of talking to Sophie.
     

 
    This wasn’t a good feeling. Brad tried to figure out what the feeling was, lying on his bed, a sick lump floating under his ribs somewhere. If it had a color, it would be pea green and light brown. A big, crawling, swirling chunk of it. It felt like fungus or something, growing on something rotten.
    He’d never cheated. Okay, well, he’d never plagiarized. A whole paper. It was more than just losing his scholarship that stopped him. It was the thought of what his mom and dad would say. Especially his dad. He closed his eyes, scrunching them up. His dad would kill him. His dad was always harping on not “misrepresenting” yourself. Plagiarism probably qualified as misrepresentation.
    Brad groaned out loud when he thought of what his sisters would say. Especially Val. She already rode his ass for being a “player” and acting like a “stupid jock.”
    Easy for her to say. She got an academic scholarship. Val was starting next fall at State, where Ellie had gone to school. Intelligent sisters were some kind of curse. Even Olivia, who was only ten, was smarter than him.
    The feeling floated up again under his breastbone, demanding his attention. Ugh. He wished he knew something that would make it go away. Maybe if Sebastian punished him.
    Brad couldn’t get his jeans open or his hand around his cock fast enough. He gripped it almost too tight and started pulling fast and hard. Imagining Sebastian watching him. Ordering him onto his knees. Reaching out and tracing his lips with a finger, then slipping it into Brad’s mouth for him to suck on.
    That was as far as Brad got before he was coming in his boxers. He curled up and rolled onto his side, the muscles in his ass throbbing. His balls emptied into his hand and all over his undershorts, and he groaned it all out. Fastest orgasm on record. He kept his eyes closed, and could see Sebastian’s lips moving and hear his voice saying, Good boy .
     

 
    By the end of winter term, Brad figured Sebastian had forgotten he was alive. At least it looked that way to Brad. He’d turned the damn paper in—his last of the term—and Sebastian had taken it with a “Hmmm, thanks. I’ll let you know if there’s a problem.” Then he’d shut his office door in Brad’s face. That was the last time