“They’re handling the class fine, thanks.”

“Oh good,” he said, sounding fake as hell, and shifted on the seat like he was getting comfy for a long chat.

Fuck. My. Life.

“Have you had time to get around town, get to know some folks?” He stressed the word folks, and it was very hard to control the eye roll itching to come out.

“Actually yes, my best friend lives here. He’s one of the owners of OuNYe, the new restaurant downtown, and his partner has been here for a few years. We hang out a lot.”

He nodded with interest, crossing his arms over his usual cardigan and button-down combo.

“Oh nice, I love that place. It’s very popular.” He cocked his head to the side, and gave me another assessing look. At this point I couldn’t even guess what was going through Brad’s head. “I’ve seen the owner, he’s very handsome. Are you sure you’re not up here because there’s a little more than friendship going on there?”

Of course he’d go there. For Brad nothing was ever lacking nefariousness.

How did this person think it was okay to ask that when I’d just mentioned Nesto had a partner, and why did he think I was interested in having a conversation with him about anything?

“Nesto and I have been friends since we were like eight years old, Brad. Also like I said, he has a partner. They live together and are in a committed monogamous relationship.”

Not that it’s any of your motherfucking business, my guy.

He didn’t respond and took his time running a hand over his heather-gray sweater, as I sat there fidgeting. “So, I actually stopped by to let you know that you were being ‘discussed’ at a dinner I was at yesterday, with some of the more senior faculty.” The smug-ass look on his face told me this was probably the reason why he’d come in here in the first place.

“Okay.” It was hard not to glare.

“They were talking about your social media persona.” I would’ve loved to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. “Departments have to pay attention to that sort of thing, in case a faculty member says something inappropriate that could hurt the school.” He was loving this little bullshit power play, but I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing my even slightly fazed.

When he realized I was not going to respond, he opened his mouth again. “You certainly have a following and seem very focused on hot-button issues.”

I tried not to cut my eyes at him, but it was so fucking hard. “I’m not sure I follow.”

He lifted a shoulder, and I could tell he was about to say something that would infuriate me and for the millionth time I asked myself why I was willing to work in a field that was full of people like this.

“Well social justice is important and certainly something this department aims to look at closely. It just seems like you’re so heated in your tweets.”