We're just standing there like idiots until he adjusts his bag and turns. "Later, Gavin."
"Yeah. Later."
I watch him walk away, that messenger bag bouncing against his hip, and it clicks in my brain, like puzzle pieces finally fitting together.
I'm attracted to the Doc.
I can't help it, but I take a quick look at his small body, and my eyes go to his ass. It's round and perfect.Yup, he's gorgeous.
Not just noticing he's cute, the way I noticed Ethan. This is different. This is wanting to know what his laugh sounds like first thing in the morning. Wanting to see if his hair is as soft as it looks. Wanting to find out if he'd fit perfectly under my arm the way I think he would.
Fuck.
My walk back to the frat is a blur. My brain's doing that thing where it rearranges everything now that I know something new. All those times I felt weird about couples, thought I was broken because I didn't get the fuss, maybe I was just looking at the wrong people.
Because Tyler and Ethan? When I saw them together, my chest went tight. I thought it was guilt for noticing how pretty Ethan was. But maybe it was envy. Not of Tyler for having Ethan, but of both of them. For having each other. Cause they know what they want.
And now there's Doc. Prickly, brilliant Doc, who made a PowerPoint about being gay, gets flustered talking about sex positions. Who's small enough that I want to pick him up and protect him from the world, but fierce enough that he'd probably knee me in the balls for suggesting he needs protection.
Brainy and tiny with a side of lashing out.
Yeah. That's definitely my type.
The frat house is chaos when I get back. Someone's blasting music, and there's a beer pong tournament happening in the dining room. Normal Tuesday night shit.
I head straight to my room and fall face-first onto my bed.
I'm gay. Or bi. Or something definitely not straight.
And I'm completely fucked, because I just developed a crush on my gay tutor who thinks I'm some clueless straight boy doing social experiments or looking to experiment in college.
This is fine. Everything is fine.
Everything is not fine.
Chapter 9
Don't Blink (Or You'll Fall For Your Tutor)
Sebastian
The auditorium's too damn big.
That's my first thought walking in, even though I've been in here dozens of times for lectures. But those times I'm sitting in the dark, taking notes, invisible. Not standing on the stage like some kind of performing monkey.
Gavin's already here because, of course, he is. Sprawled in a front-row seat like he owns the place, still in his practice gear. Mesh shorts and a tank top that's doing obscene things to his shoulders. His hair's damp, and curling at the edges.
Don't look at his thighs. Don't look at his thighs. Don't?—
Fuck. Those thighs could crack walnuts.Each one's probably the size of my entire torso. When he shifts to grab his backpack, the muscles flex, and I actually forget how to breathe for a second.
"Hey!" He grins up, noticing me, all sunshine and smiles. "How's it going?"
"Fine." The word comes out clipped. I adjust my messenger bag and head for the stage. "Let's get this over with."
"Wow, such enthusiasm." But he's laughing as he says it, hauling himself up to follow me. "Nice shirt, by the way. Those angel things creep me out."
I glance down at my Weeping Angels tee. "They're supposed to. That's the point."
