The phone vibrated again, the screen flashing with the same unknown number. Nathan took a few deliberate steps away from Luke, creating a sliver of private space in the lavish dorm room. He swiped to answer and put the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Jake,” Nathan said, forcing Arabella’s light, accented tone, using the name he’d just read.

A warm, masculine voice came through, smooth and familiar. “Hey, Babe. How are you?”

Nathan’s mind blanked. Babe. The word hit him like a physical slap, intimate and presumptuous. His rehearsed scripts evaporated. “I’m… I’m fine,” he stuttered, the accent wavering.

“Good, good. Listen, are you at NYU now? Got in okay?”

Nathan glanced at Luke, who was watching him with unnerving focus. He had no choice. “Yes,” he said, the word tight. “Just arrived.”

“Perfect.” On the other end, Jake sounded pleased. Nathan felt a presence beside him. Before he could react, Luke’s hand—Allison’s hand—slid around his waist and cupped one of the prosthetic breasts filling out Arabella’s silk top. Nathan jerked, a shocked gasp caught in his throat. He tried to bat Luke’s hand away, but the grip was firm, possessive. The silicone felt foreign and yet intensely present under Luke’s kneading fingers. Trapped on the call, Nathan froze, his face heating with a confusing mix of violation and strange, unwanted sensation. He let the hand stay.

“So, Bella,” Jake continued, oblivious. “You free for dinner tomorrow? I’ve got reservations at that little Italian place you love.”

“Tomorrow? I—I think I have… a seminar,” Nathan lied hastily, his voice strained. He was achingly aware of Luke’s thumb tracing a lazy circle over the false nipple.

“A seminar? Since when do you do seminars on a Friday night?” Jake laughed, a charming sound that felt dangerous. “Come on, I’ve been waiting all summer for you to get back. I’m coming to campus. We’ll figure it out.”

Panic fluttered in Nathan’s chest. He couldn’t think. Luke’s other hand came up, mirroring the first, both now groping him openly. Nathan saw Luke’s face from the corner of his eye. His expression was one of silent, intense arousal, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. He was rocking slightly on his heels, a subtle, unmistakable motion.

“I… I might be busy,” Nathan managed weakly.

“You’re not busy,” Jake said, his tone gently insisting. “I’ll be there. It’s settled.”

Defeated, out of excuses, Nathan surrendered. “Okay. Okay, …