“He’s not hitting on me,” Nick said tightly. “He just asked if I’d be there tonight.”
“No, he asked if he’d see you, which is creepy.”
“Knock it off,” said Becca. “He’s Quinn’s friend. Nick’s trying to defend him, and you’re being a royal—”
Chris wrapped an arm around her neck and put his hand over her mouth. “I love you, but please don’t pick a fight I’m going to have to finish.”
“Oh, I’ll finish it,” Becca said through his fingers.
“No, I’ll finish it,” Nick snapped. He stood, grabbing his tray so roughly that he almost dropped half his food on Chris. “An asshole,” he said to Gabriel. His throat felt tight, and it hurt to talk. “You’re being a royal asshole.”
Then he stormed away from the table and slammed the tray onto one of the waiting carts.
“Hey, Nicky,” Gabriel called after him, “remember what I said about drama?”
Fuck him. Nick slammed through the double doors leading out of the cafeteria, choking on emotion. He pinched his fingers over his eyes.
He wished he could take it all back. Adam had trusted him with a terrible secret, and now Nick had crapped all over it. Making what they’d shared into a joke.
He wanted to storm back into that cafeteria and shake some sense into his brother.
He wanted to call Adam and apologize.
He wanted to stop hearing the derision in his brother’s voice. The way he’d said creepy.
Most of all, he wanted to stop crying.
Creepy. Creepy creepy creepy.
Like he was some kind of pervert. He’d known his twin’s rejection would hurt, but he hadn’t realized it would hurt like this, a subtle stabbing a hundred times over.
Nick ducked into the restroom. Empty. Finally, a break. He went into a stall anyway. He swiped at his eyes and dug his phone out of his pocket.
There was Adam’s message.
Will I see you tonight?
Nick squeezed his eyes shut and had to swipe at them again.
Then he typed back.
We’ll be there at 8.
Adam’s response appeared almost immediately.
Can’t wait.
Then a second later, another message appeared.
U OK?
Nick sniffed. He started to type back, Yeah, fine, but they’d found this path of honesty, and he didn’t want to veer into the unknown.
Gabriel said gay guys are creepy.
As soon as he hit SEND, he felt ridiculous. He might as well have typed, My brother is a big meanie. Wah.
But his phone buzzed almost immediately.
You told him???
Oh, shit. No. Nick shook his head, like an idiot.
No. Said in passing.
The phone didn’t buzz with a new message. But the end-of-lunch bell rang. Nick sniffed again and got himself together. He spent a minute splashing cold water on his face, until some freshman guys came through the door.
His phone buzzed before he made it into his next class.
You are not creepy. You are great good fine. And brilliant and patient and gentle and kind.
Jesus, he was going to start crying again.
Before he could, the phone buzzed.
And frankly, you’re kind of hot. Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you last night?
Nick laughed before he could help it.
He took a seat and hid the phone under his desk, then slid his fingers across the screen.
You, too, for what it’s worth. And thank you.
His phone buzzed almost immediately.
NP. Been there. See you tonight. Don’t be late this time. ;-P
Nick wouldn’t be.
CHAPTER 11
Quinn stumbled into the truck and flung her bag on the floor between her feet. She could barely feel her toes, but somehow she was supposed to spend the next two hours dancing. Her hands slapped over the vents. “Can you turn the heat up?”
Nick obliged her, reaching over and turning the dial all the way to the right. “You okay?”
Her fingers hurt from the cold, and she flexed them a few times. “Yeah. I’ve just been outside for a while.”
He reached over and took her hands, pressing them between his. He brought them to his lips and blew warm air along her fingers. “You should have texted me. What happened?”
Quinn looked up at him over their clasped hands. His face was close, his blue eyes gentle and intent on hers. His clothes were different from what he’d worn to school, and he looked like he’d shaved again, too.
He looked amazing.
A flicker of regret hit her between the eyes. This was so unfair.
She pulled her hands away. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“You’re late.”
“I’m not. It’s seven forty. Did something happen?”
“My brother had his stupid pothead friends over.” Quinn grabbed the seat belt and jerked it across her chest. “I had to get out of there.”
She’d been lucky to get her dance clothes without being groped. Then her mom had gotten in her face and demanded to know where she’d been last night.
Why, Mom? Were you conscious?
At the stop sign at the end of her lot, Nick turned to look at her. “You could have called me. I would have come to get you.”
“You were working.” She sounded petulant and she didn’t care. She knew he would have come to get her, because that’s what perfect boyfriends did. “Did you dress up for Adam?”
He gestured down at his clothes. “I wouldn’t call this dressing up.”
She would. Dark-washed jeans and a forest-green pullover that clung to the muscles of his chest. He’d probably told his brothers he was getting ready for a date with her.
Quinn looked out the window. She didn’t know what was wrong with her tonight. This felt like jealousy, but that was insane . It had been her idea to keep pretend dating in the first place!
“Are you mad at me?” Nick sounded puzzled. Almost hurt.
“No, Nick. I’m not mad.”
He put an arm out. “Come here. What’s wrong?”
She was tempted to curl against him and let him stroke her hair or whisper assurances or whatever he was so good at. She didn’t move. “Forget it. It’s fine.”
He sighed, then swore under his breath. When they came to a red light, she could feel his eyes on her.
“Please don’t do this,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. “You’re the only friend I can talk to. If I’ve fucked something up, just tell me.” He paused. “I know you’re not talking to Becca. What happened?”
“How do you know that?”
“She asked me about you.”
“Oh, she remembers me now? That’s awfully sweet of her.”
“She’s concerned about you. When you said you were all right last night, I thought you were at her place.”
“Well, I wasn’t.”
“Where were you? Did you go home?”
“No, I was waiting out my mom. I was dancing on the trail by the woods.” Part of her didn’t want to talk about this, about any of it. Another part of her wanted to throw everything in Nick’s face.
God, this sucked. He was too good looking, too nice. Throw supernatural powers in the mix, and it was like fate was playing a cruel joke on her. Maybe next he’d tell her he had a winning lottery ticket in the glove box.