“Heal it,” she said. “Please.”
“Quinn—” His voice was tight. Distressed. “Maybe I should just take you to the hospital. This was a bad idea.”
“No. No, I’m okay.” She struggled to get her arm underneath her.
Wrong idea. The horizon shifted. So did the contents of her stomach. She gagged and almost threw up.
“Whoa,” said Tyler. He gently eased her back down. The fire seemed to blaze brighter, or maybe her eyes were playing tricks.
“Are you worried?” she said.
“Worried?” He leaned close, his eyes picking up the glow from the fire.
“That you can’t do it?”
He grimaced and looked at the fire. “No.”
She wanted to punch him, but she’d probably end up puking all over him instead. “Then what—why won’t you help me?” A thought occurred to her and she started crying again, shaking sobs that made her head pulse with pain. “Do you hate me, too? Did I fuck it up with you, too? Did I—”
“No! No, Quinn. No.” He leaned close again, pressing a hand to her cheek. His palm was fire-hot, but it didn’t hurt. Instead, she wanted to lean into it.
Then heat surged through her veins, fire swirling through every blood vessel, making her gasp.
“I’m not worried because I don’t think I can help you,” Tyler said quietly, his eyes afraid, his expression intense. His voice dropped until she could barely hear him over the flames. “I’m worried because I know I can.”
CHAPTER 18
When Adam knocked on the front door, eagerness and panic were waging a full-on wrestling match in Nick’s stomach. What was he supposed to do, text everyone something like, Just want to make sure you’ll all be out past eleven. Nothing to see here. Just me and my textbook.
He’d taken the fastest shower in the history of time and changed clothes, but it left him feeling more on edge. The whole five minutes he’d been in the shower, he worried Adam would show up at the same time as one of his brothers.
But now Adam was here, knocking, and Nick couldn’t seem to get the door open fast enough.
Somehow Adam managed to look better every time he saw him. The porch light threaded his hair with gold and painted shadows under his cheekbones.
“You look nervous,” said Adam.
“I am nervous,” Nick breathed. But you’re here. You’re on my doorstep. You’re in my space, and I don’t want you to go.
Adam didn’t wait for an invitation. He moved across the threshold and pushed the door closed quietly behind him. “Are we still alone?”
“Yeah.”
Adam stepped forward and kissed him. Nothing hesitant, nothing unsure. Simply the soft pressure of his lips against Nick’s mouth. Then the first brush of tongue, lighting sparks in Nick’s body, sending his thoughts reeling. The room felt warmer, the air soft and welcoming, eager for the way his mood lightened in Adam’s presence.
Adam shifted closer, until Nick could feel the heat of his chest and the brush of his hips. Then closer, his hands finding Nick’s face and winding in his hair.
Nick made a low sound and slid his hands under Adam’s coat, finding the warm muscled span of his waist.
Adam drew back and smiled. His voice was soft in the space between them. “Keep going like that and we’ll never leave the foyer.”
“Is it wrong that I don’t care?”
Adam laughed. “I want to see where you live.”
“It’s very exciting. Here, give me your coat.” And your shirt, and your—
“It is exciting.” Adam shrugged out of his coat. “And I might not get another chance.”
Well, that was sobering. But Nick took his coat and stashed it in the front closet.
Adam followed him through the lower level without much comment, until they came full circle to the staircase.
“No pictures,” said Adam.
“What?”
“There aren’t any pictures anywhere. Of your family. Or—” He hesitated, as if realizing he’d made a misstep. “Of your brothers.”
Nick shrugged, but his shoulders felt tense again. “We used to have some. They were destroyed.”
“Fire?”
Nick shook his head. “It’s—it’s a long story.”
A lie. It was a pretty short story, really. He didn’t want to relive it, but his brain was more than happy to supply the memories. While Nick and his brothers were at their parents’ funeral, Tyler and his best friend Seth had broken into the house. They’d destroyed every picture they could find.
Nick remembered coming home, still shaken from watching glossy wooden boxes lowered into the ground, and finding shattered glass everywhere. Michael had called the cops. Chris had holed up in his room to cry. Gabriel had stormed out—probably on a mission of vengeance.
Nick had cleaned up the mess.
Five years, and the memory still had the power to knock the breath out of him. “I don’t really want to talk about this.”
“I’m sorry,” Adam said softly. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” Nick tried to shake off the emotion, but it wouldn’t loosen. “It’s a stupid thing to be upset about—I mean, we still have old memory cards and stuff. We just—we never reprinted anything. And then after they were gone, no one really felt like taking pictures of anything meaningful.”
“Your brothers weren’t into trips to Sears wearing identical sweaters?”
Nick half smiled. “No.”
Adam pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up. “Say cheese.”
“Don’t take my—”
“Too late.” He turned it around so Nick could see.
Adam had snapped the picture before Nick had started talking, so the photo captured his mouth in a thin line. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes dark.
“Delete it,” he said.
“No way.” Adam leaned close to whisper along his jaw. “I felt like taking a picture of something meaningful.”
Nick blushed. There was a good chance he might melt right down these steps.
Adam grinned and said, “Wait, now I need another picture.”
This time, Nick let him, but then he snatched the phone out of Adam’s fingers.
“If you delete them, I’ll just have to take more.”
“I’m not deleting them.” Nick turned the phone around and took a picture of Adam. Unruly hair, crooked smile, solid grip on Nick’s heart.
He texted it to himself.
Adam took his hand and tugged. “Come on. Show me the upstairs.”
At the top of the stairs, Nick pointed at each room in turn. “Chris, Michael, Gabriel, me. And the bathroom. I told you: thrilling.”
But there was something thrilling about Adam’s being here, in the upstairs hallway, breathing the same air. Anxiety had faded, leaving only longing and contentment.
Adam started forward, and Nick expected him to head for his bedroom. But Adam went to Gabriel’s door.
Nick didn’t follow him, but he crossed his arms to lean against the wall. He didn’t want to think about Gabriel now.
“I expected your brother to be a slob,” Adam said, leaning around the door frame to peer in.
Gabriel kind of was a slob, but they’d all learned pretty quickly that if they left the place a mess, there wasn’t anyone around to pick up after them. Nick frowned. “Why?”
“Because he’s careless.”
“He’s not—”
“He is. He’s hurting you and he doesn’t even realize it.”
Nick couldn’t exactly deny that.
Adam abandoned Gabriel’s room and moved to Nick’s doorway. “Can I go in?”