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throating, butt plugs and rimming. At first he’d been shocked to discover it was the talk of men doing things to each other that gave him a deliciously squirmy feeling inside, but having liberal academics as parents meant neither of them had any ingrained homophobia.
    Indeed, it had been a shock to Lewis to discover that others did. He wished he’d realised just how deep it ran in some of his peers before announcing he was gay to his whole class. Still, what did twelve-year-olds know about the way the world worked? In hindsight, he’d been glad to be out and proud at school, even if it had exposed him to some merciless teasing and occasional roughing up. Nothing too bad, though. Cotham Grammar just hadn’t been that kind of school. Besides, it was character building or something. That’s what his mum had always told him whenever he complained, anyway.
    “Thinking about Jasper, are we?” Carroll said, a smile lurking behind her deadpan expression.
    “No. Should I be?” Of course, now Carroll mentioned him, Lewis’s head filled with memories of just how handsome his teenage crush had turned out.
    “Well, he is our newest client so yeah, I reckon you should be thinking about him. Lots. Probably obsessing about him, knowing you.”
    “I don’t obsess about our clients.”
    “Really? Could have fooled me. You definitely obsess about your boyfriends, anyway.”
    “Jasper isn’t ever going to be my boyfriend,” Lewis insisted.
    Carroll arched her eyebrows, making her piercings glint. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”
    “He barely made eye contact.”
    “Maybe, but he kept looking at your hands—especially when you grabbed his. Hardly spared mine a glance, and with all the effort I made.” Carroll waggled her habitually bitten nails and pouted, although she couldn’t hide the dimples that gave her away. “A girl could feel hurt.”
    Lewis snorted. “The princess thing really doesn’t suit you, sis.”
    Carroll’s expression reverted back to its usual cheeky smirk. “Okay, but you have to admit, he wanted you to come and do the home visit. That’s got to mean something.”
    “What it means,” Lewis said, opening the door to get away from the direction the conversation was taking, “is that I’ll have to be on my guard against our client forming any kind of inappropriate attachment to me. If he does, I’ll have to hand him over to you.”
    “Yeah, right. Well, I’m ready to take over whenever. Face it, bro, you’ll be packing your bags and moving in with him as soon as you’ve got his place livable.”
    “Bye, sis. See you tomorrow morning.” He stepped down from the van and closed the door firmly. Not firmly enough, though, and he ended up having to open it again before doing the old slam-jiggle trick. “Speaking of getting vehicles serviced, this old heap of junk is in dire need of some TLC.”
    “Nah. Alice is fine. You just have to know how to treat her right.” Carroll revved the engine and shot him a bright smile through the window. “Oh, and bro, if you dream of Jasper tonight, make sure you show him a good time.”
    Lewis shook his head. “I’m not that cheap. He’d have to wait till the second date at least.”
    Carroll stuck out her tongue, flashing the silver stud there. The van peeled away on squealing rubber, drawing disapproving glances from a couple of yummy mummies in designer track suits jogging along behind their three-wheeled baby strollers. Lewis gave them an apologetic shrug and turned to the house.
    Another night alone in front of the telly while his parents were gadding about. Why, yes, there really was something wrong with this picture.
    However, when Lewis pulled the front door open, he was assaulted by mariachi music playing at full volume, and the familiar scent of pan-fried chillies. He tried sneaking past the open kitchen door, but his dad’s hearing was uncannily sharp.
    “Lewis! Hey, fancy trying some of this? I need a willing victim.”
    Lewis