Page 112 of Game Night: Truth or Dare

He let out a groan.

“Fine. I’ll tell you.”

Oh shit. There was an actual reason.

“Remember when you came out that first day to meet the family? We were having a barbeque?”

“Yeah…” I said slowly.

“I heard you ranting to Charles about Professor Gordon. You called him a dirty faggot. You said he should be fired. That he shouldn’t be around the students because he was perverted. That he only failed the guys who wouldn’t fuck him.”

I could hear a hard edge to his voice and all the blood left my face.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Honestly, it made me feel like shit. Charles’ new bestie talking like that. And he was the only openly gay professor that I freaking had to look up to, and you hated him just because he was gay—”

“Whoa, hang on a second!”

Despite my desire to hold Jonas all night long, I was suddenly sitting up, looking down at his shape in the dark.

“That’s not true,” I argued. “It wasn’t just because he was gay.”

“I heard you.”

“Yeah. I did say all those things,” I admitted. “But it was because…”

I swallowed down the anger that resurfaced at the memory.

“Jonas, he very clearly suggested that I–” I felt my cheeks burning from embarrassment or anger, or probably both. “He wanted me to do something for him to raise my grade.”

There was a very long silence filled with tension. I was pretty sure Jonas wasn’t breathing. I knew I wasn’t.

“What do you mean?” he finally asked.

I let out a breath and forced myself to lie back down at Jonas’ side, fixing my gaze on the dark ceiling.

“I mean, he told me I could use my mouth to convince him,” I forced out with a shudder, my voice lowering because it felt so weird to say. “He was sitting in his chair, and he asked me to come around the desk and he kind of spread his legs out and…” I sighed. “He left nothing to the imagination. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“But… he was never like that with me. I always thought he was so professional,” Jonas said weakly.

“You must have never been failing his class.”

He turned to face me in the dark, his hand finding my face and resting on my cheek.

“You have to tell the dean.”

I sighed tiredly.

“That’s what your brother said.”

“Because he’s smart, Peter. What if he does that to loads of students?”

I frowned.

“I don’t want to think about that.”

He let out a little noise that reminded me of a kitten’s growl.

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