“I know I am,” said Adam.
“You sure you boys won’t come inside? I’m worried he’ll come back.”
Had the man not noticed they were twins? That this wasn’t some random hate crime? Maybe it was too dark. Maybe it had happened too fast.
Nick cleared his throat. “He’s my brother. He won’t come back.”
Those words hung in the air for a moment.
“We’ll be all right,” said Adam.
And then they were alone.
Nick hadn’t touched the ice, but Adam sat in the opposite metal chair and reached for it. Then he put the bag against Nick’s face.
And Nick was struck with an entirely different sort of déjà vu. A different night, a different fight, but Adam’s hand holding an ice bag just like this.
Back then, Nick had leapt out of his chair to kiss him. Now, he wasn’t sure what to do. About any of it.
“Would you rather put this on your hand?” Adam said.
Nick tried to categorize his injuries and came up with nothing. He couldn’t think past his brother’s angry eyes and the fight and the way he’d walked off.
And what he’d said.
It hurt. It hurt more than anything physical.
Nick swallowed and shook his head.
They sat there for the longest time in the darkness, breathing the same air. The pain began to fade from Nick’s hand as his element worked its magic.
Nick almost wished it wouldn’t. This he wanted to remember for a while.
When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” Adam looked chagrined. “And I shouldn’t have shoved him. But he kept pushing me, and there’s only so much of that big-dumb-straight-boy crap that I can put up with. Especially since . . . you know.”
Nick did know. And if Gabriel had hurt Adam . . . Nick wasn’t sure what he would have done.
But he’d felt a glimmer of it when he was slamming Gabriel into that wall.
He pulled the ice bag away from his face and set it on the table. “I’m sorry that he—that he—”
“It’s not your fault.” Adam touched his cheek, and his hand was warm. Nick shut his eyes and leaned into the contact. He felt the pain, but it was worth it.
He opened his eyes. “Then I’m sorry for what I did. Last night.”
Adam nodded and withdrew his hand, reaching for the ice pack again. “I am, too.” He glanced up, and the slightest bit of rueful humor slid into his voice. “In fact, I was trying to apologize to you fifteen minutes ago. I didn’t realize that when you said identical twin, you weren’t kidding about the identical part.”
Nick frowned. “Only on the outside.” Then he remembered the whole reason for the apology, and he looked away, ashamed. “Usually.”
“No, what you did was nothing like what he did.” Adam caught his eye and held it. “Don’t get me wrong. What you did was not okay.”
“I know.”
“I know you know. That’s why I’m sitting here.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
Adam picked up Nick’s hand and held the ice against his knuckles. He looked sheepish. “I didn’t. I came here to avoid you. I figured you usually go to the Starbucks down the road.” He paused, then rubbed at the back of his neck. “I needed to grab a cup of coffee on the way to my parents’, because I told them I’d stop by tonight. Then I saw you—well, your brother—sitting there, and I . . . ah, well, I couldn’t go another minute without talking to you.”
Nick studied him. The lighting was dim, but . . . “You’re blushing!”
Adam looked away. “Yeah, yeah.”
“But you wouldn’t respond to my texts!”
“Well, I couldn’t let you think you got off that easy.”
“Oh, I get it. So you’ve been torturing me.” But Nick smiled.
“Absolutely. And torturing myself at the same time.” Adam slid his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture.
“Oh, good,” said Nick. “This is a moment I want a record of.”
“You don’t smile enough. That makes them meaningful.” He paused, then turned the phone around so Nick could see. His voice lost any humor. “I should send this to your brother.”
Nick glanced at it. A bruise was already forming on his cheek, more obvious because of the flash in the darkness.
He reached out and pushed the button to make the phone go dark. Gabriel’s mocking voice was a never-ending echo in his head; he didn’t need to see the evidence of physical aggression on top of it. Such a contrast to that moment in the car, when Nick had realized how badly he wanted to share this with his brother.
Or that moment in the woods. Gabriel’s voice, tight with panic. Come on, Nicky. Please. You’re scaring me.
Or the thousand moments before that. A lifetime of memories with his twin brother, undone in an instant.
You don’t have to hold him. Nick will stay down.
“Okay,” said Adam softly. “Okay. Come on.”
It was only then that Nick realized his breath was shaking and his eyes had filled. Adam’s fingers wrapped around his good hand and tugged. Nick allowed himself to be led.
When he was sure his voice wouldn’t break, he said, “Where are we going?”
“Bus stop. My place?”
Nick nodded. He certainly couldn’t go home.
If he was being strictly honest with himself, he was afraid to go home.
God, he was such a wuss.
But when they were on the near-empty bus, sharing a bench at the back of the vehicle, Adam leaned into him and spoke quietly. “When you pushed him away from me—that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Nick scoffed, but Adam put a finger over his lips. “It was. For me, it was. Take it or leave it.”
Nick took it.
CHAPTER 26
Quinn hadn’t told Becca everything.
She’d left out Nick’s secret.
She’d left out Tyler.
She’d left out the trophy and the bruise and the fire on the beach.
But she’d cried and talked about how much she missed her best friend, about how much it hurt when Becca treated her like she was overdramatic, how she needed to figure out how to trust her again.
How much Quinn needed Becca to be there when she was ready to tell her everything.
She’d expected Becca to brush her off. If she was being strictly honest with herself, she’d expected Becca to sigh and huff and start talking about Chris.
But Becca had cried with her and told her how much she missed her, too, and Quinn realized that some of her worries about her best friend were exaggerations she’d created in her mind.
Another example of pushing someone away before they had the opportunity to help her.
Becca had begged her to come stay with her, but Quinn had refused. She needed more time to untangle the snarled mess of her thoughts. To decide how much trust she was willing to share.
Now, Quinn was ready for Tyler to come home with Chinese food, to sit across from him and have a real conversation.
She’d mocked him about honor, but really, he’d been incredibly honorable toward her. He’d never lied. He’d never taken her up on her offer to “repay” him.
She was ready to stop pushing him away.
Nick, too. Quinn reassessed the way she’d treated him. He’d been trying to protect her from Tyler, and she’d all but told him to fuck off.
Not all but. She had. She still had the text in her phone history.
She’d pushed Adam away, too, that night she’d blown him off, the night she’d jumped on a bus and texted Tyler.