"That's the spirit." Sylas links his arm through Ethan's. "We're heading to the frat house. Drew opened it up for Friday night since nobody's been tagged on TikTok in a while."
"Good luck," Ethan calls as I start walking.
I'm halfway across the quad when I hear it, Sylas's voice, sing-song and gleeful, carrying on the evening air:
"Going on a twink hunt... gonna bag a small one..."
Ethan's laughter follows.
I don't look back.
I've got somewhere to be.
Chapter 31
Grand Theft Boyfriend
Sebastian
I'm an idiot.
This is not news. I've known I was an idiot since approximately the moment I let Gavin Robins convince me that "tutoring him on how to be gay" was a reasonable educational arrangement. But walking around campus at sunset, glasses I forgot to take off still perched on my nose, I'm reaching new heights of idiocy.
You have to end it.
My chest aches. Actually, physically aches, which is ridiculous because heartbreak isn't a real medical condition. It's psychosomatic. The vagus nerve responds to emotional distress. It's a completely normal physiological response.
You have to end it before he figures out you're not worth the trouble.
I should have left these stupid blue light glasses at my desk. Now I'm wandering around campus like a four-eyed disaster with nowhere to put them because my case is in my backpack, and stopping to dig it out feels like admitting I have no idea where I'm going.
Which I don't.
His family disowned him because of you.
Not technically true. His family disowned him because they're bigoted assholes. But I was there. I attacked his brother. I escalated things. And now Gavin has no one except?—
Except for the entire fraternity that loves him. Except for his football team. Except literally everyone who meets him because he's basically a golden retriever in human form.
Right. So he doesn't need me.
You got the letter today.
My stomach drops.
You got the frickin registered letter today, and everything changes, and he deserves to know, but telling him means?—
I stop walking. Take a breath. The sunset is doing that annoyingly beautiful orange-pink thing, and I hate it.
Oh, God.
The realization hits me like a truck.
I'm in love with him.
I'm in love with Gavin. The giant, ridiculous, secretly-genius football player who thinks ‘tutoring’ is a valid dating strategy. He stood up to his abusive father without throwing a single punch. Who looks at me like I'm everything when I'm just... me.
This makes everything worse.
