"Are you fucking kidding me, Gabe?" Nate demands.

Angelo puts his hand on Nate's arm. "Why don't you hear him out before you start making judgments about anything?"

"I don't need to hear anything out," Nate snaps. "My brother – who claims to be my best friend – blows us off for months with bullshit excuses about how he's finally broken through his mental block and started writing again – except he's really just fucking the Devil's daughter and getting himself fired from his job because of it!"

"Actually, I resigned." It's only been a week, but word travels really fast on a college campus, especially since Gina isn't exactly a vault when it comes to sensitive information. Not to mention the fact that the scene we caused in my office was witnessed by a number of students. I was lucky that no one whipped out a cell phone and started filming or it would have been all over the internet. Since it happened on the last day of the semester and students were rushing off on break, the fallout was somewhat contained.

All the same, the news made it to the Dean in less than an hour. I was only given the opportunity to resign because the school didn't have an official policy on the books prohibiting student-faculty relationships. I'm guessing they'll be writing one soon.

Nate barks out a laugh. "You're unbelievable, you know that? You lied to us for months –"

"Because it wasn't any of your business who I was seeing!" I exclaim, frustrated.

"Who you see or don't see isn't the fucking point! You lied to me, of all people, for months and only came here because… why? You're worried we'd find out in the newspaper or read about it online?? 'Famous Author Bangs Eighteen-Year-Old Student In His Class in Big Fucking Cliché. Maybe that will be the headline in the local paper this week?"

"Nate, stop!" Angelo chides. "I'm sure he didn't know how to tell us."

"No, he's right," I tell them tersely. "I came here to tell you before you found out somewhere else."

"Well, aren't you the most considerate brother in the world," Nate sniffs.

"Nate!" Angelo exclaims.

"I didn't tell you because you wouldn't understand."

Nate laughs bitterly. "I understand that you're having a midlife crisis and are under the delusional belief that taking advantage of some barely-legal, dimwitted girl from the backwards, small-minded town where we grew up is going to fix the fact that you haven't had a relationship with anyone since your ex-wife ran off with her yoga instructor!"

"Shit, Nate," Angelo breathes, his face going pale. "That was way too far."

I push my chair back from the table. "Fuck you, Nate. It's none of your damned business who I date."

"Oh, so you're dating her now?" Nate asks sarcastically.

Angelo stands up. "Cut it out, both of you!" he bellows. "Nate, your brother is an adult and he can see whoever he wants to see! Gabe your brother is angry about the lying, not about who you're sleeping with!"

"Nah, I'm mad about who he's fucking, too," Nate huffs.

"You don't get to have an opinion about who I fuck."

"This is ridiculous!" Angelo interrupts. "You two are best friends and can have a mature, rational conversation like adults."

"Yeah, you're a middle-aged man," Nate says. "Not an eighteen-year-old boy. Maybe you should remember that."

"I'm done here," I snap, calling for Hemy. "This was a bad idea."

"Screwing the preacher's daughter was a real great idea," Nate calls as I storm off the patio and through the house. I ignore Angelo, who I can hear chastising Nate as he comes after me through the front door.

"Don't fight with your brother," Angelo pleads. "You know how hot-headed and stubborn he is."

I pick up Hemy and put him in the car. "He's being a prick."

"Your brother is always a prick," Angelo points out.

"Well, he's being an especially huge one this time, and I'm not staying here to listen to it."

"He's only upset because he's hurt. You tell him everything, and he feels like you've been keeping this huge secret from him."

I slam the car door closed and storm around to the driver's side. "Yeah, well, this is exactly why I didn't fucking tell him."

"Talk to me, Gabe," Angelo insists. "The thing with the preacher's daughter… it's not just a fling, is it?"

I exhale heavily. "What it is, is irrelevant. It's over."

Angelo's brow furrows. "Are you okay with that?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay with that," I snap, yanking open the car door.

Angelo's expression softens. "Do you love her?"

I don't answer. I get in the car and drive away.