When he spoke, his voice was gently teasing. “Do I pass muster?”

Nick jerked his eyes away. “You look great. Good. Yeah.

Fine.”

Jesus, was he going to sound like a raving idiot every time he saw this guy? Me Nick. Me like boys. Me especially like how you look in that pea coat.

Adam smiled, and it chased some of the tension from his eyes. “You look great, good, fine, too. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually.” He hadn’t eaten dinner before meeting his brothers, and there sure hadn’t been time once he’d gotten home. Nick reached for the keys, but he couldn’t start the car.

His brain was screaming at him. Public! Public! Public! He didn’t know whether that was better or worse than going down to Adam’s apartment. He had to clear his throat.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Little place up the road. Dirt cheap and always deserted because they don’t have a liquor license.”

Something loosened in Nick’s chest. “Sounds great.”

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Adam reached out and stopped his hand before he could start the engine. “I thought maybe we could walk.” He paused. “Unless you think the weather won’t hold. It’s windy. Might rain.”

Nick looked at Adam’s hand on his wrist. “It won’t rain.”

The wind welcomed him into the outdoors, kicking up to swirl around him. He could feel rain on the air, but a distant promise, nothing they’d have to worry about for hours yet. He was glad for the chance to walk. With a destination and a task and his element feeding him power, his brain relaxed a little.

Until Adam said, “You were sitting in your car for a while.”

Wind rushed between darkened buildings to form tiny whirl-winds from the dead leaves along the sidewalk. Nick fed energy into the air, sending them spinning higher. Clouds blocked the starlight overhead, making their walk very dark between streetlamps. “I didn’t realize you’d be waiting for me.”

“I wasn’t. Not really.” Adam paused, and that hint of uncertain tension found his voice. “I figured I could use a walk either way.”

Either way. Nick took a second to figure that out. Adam had thought Nick was standing him up. Then he’d seen him sitting in the car—quite obviously not getting out. Shame took Nick by the shoulders and shook him. He was disappointing everyone today.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he said.

“Don’t be. You’re here.” But Adam rubbed at the back of his neck, leaving Nick to wonder how much of that was true.

They fell into silence again. Nick let the air swirl around them, seeking answers about Adam’s mood. Waiting for some signal of how to proceed.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” Adam finally said.

Nick looked over, confused.

“When you were sitting in your car. Were you thinking of leaving?”

Nick inhaled to lie, but then thought better of it. He nodded.

Adam took that at face value, but he kept walking. “When I saw you sitting there, I thought about doing the same thing.”

Nick ran that scenario through his head. Finally getting the guts to walk down to Adam’s apartment and finding no one home.

That—that would have stung. Given the thoughts he’d been having in the car, he probably would have deserved it.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Nick said, his voice rough.

“Just because I’m out doesn’t mean I don’t care, Nick.”

Nick. It was the first time he’d heard Adam say his name, and it sounded like an accusation.

“I know that,” he said tightly.

“If you’re not ready for this,” Adam continued, his voice gaining momentum from anger, “I get it. Trust me, I get it. If you want to walk away, it’s fine. But don’t string me along while you—”

“Jesus,” Nick snapped. “I’m not.” He rounded on Adam, reaching to grab his arm, to stop him, to confront him.

But Adam was suddenly five feet away, his back to the darkened building, his shoulders tight, his hands curled into fists.

Breath left his mouth in quickened bursts.

Nick held still for a moment. Then he closed the distance between them, stopping when he sensed Adam was going to back away again—or fight. His fists were up now, his expression re-solved.

Nick kept his own hands low. “Did you think I was going to hit you?” he said carefully. “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t.”

Adam studied him. His expression reminded Nick of last night, when Adam had almost flinched from his touch. Then the fear faded, quickly replaced by something closer to embarrassment. He turned and started walking again.

“Whoa.” Nick caught his arm and hauled him to a stop.

Adam stopped, his eyes locked straight ahead. His arm was tense under Nick’s hand.

Nick moved closer and dropped his voice. “I’m not trying to string you along,” he said quietly. “I thought about leaving, but I wasn’t going to. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

Adam turned his head to meet his eyes, and Nick felt his cheeks go warm.

“All day?” said Adam.

“I failed a physics test because of it.”

A shadow of that easy confidence sneaked back into Adam’s voice. “I blew a chem lab tonight because of you.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “A chem lab?”

“Yeah. I had class. I told you.”

“I thought you meant dance.”

“I wish. I suck at chemistry.”

Nick loosened his grip on Adam’s arm, but he didn’t let go.

“I’m great at chemistry.”

Adam’s eyes flicked to his lips. “I bet.”

Nick hesitated, not wanting to damage the mood, which felt precariously balanced between flirtation and forgiveness. But it also felt like a big old heap of evasion. “Can we talk about what just happened?”

Adam pulled away and started walking. Nick fell into step beside him, expecting Adam to need to walk to talk. But then his companion remained silent.

Nick didn’t press. He had enough experience from his brothers—to say nothing of Quinn—to know that people wouldn’t talk until they were damn good and ready. By the time they made it to the tiny restaurant, he no longer expected an answer.

The place looked like it didn’t know what it wanted to be.

Red-checked tablecloths, cheap metal chairs, and all manner of food on the menu, from dim sum to stromboli. Soft lighting did nothing to hide the fact that they were the only patrons in the place.

After they were seated at a four top, with sodas in front of them, Nick was desperate for anything to lighten the mood.

“Fast service,” he said wryly. “Do you want me to accuse you of dazzling the waitress?”

Adam choked on his soda. “Is that a Twilight reference? How is it possible your brothers don’t know you’re g*y?”

Every time he said that, Nick wanted to flinch as hard as Adam had on the street. “I said a girlfriend was making me read it.”

Adam lost the smile. “Quinn said you’ve had a lot of girlfriends.”

Nick shrugged and wondered what the safe answer to that was. “‘A lot’ is relative, I guess.” He paused, wondering what else Quinn had said about him. “And you?”

“Girlfriends? None.”

Nick smiled but wondered if they were going to play this game all night. The entire rhythm of the evening felt off, like they’d hit the wrong note right from the start, and they’d never really found the melody.

Adam unstrapped his bag and pulled out a chemistry textbook, followed by a spiral notebook. “Didn’t you say you wanted to study?”

So they weren’t going to talk about anything of substance at all. Nick pulled out his calculus textbook, glad he’d brought it along. He worked through the three homework questions he’d missed, hoping he could convince the teacher to give him half credit. Then he moved on to tonight’s assignment.

Adam made for quiet company. Nick had worried it would be uncomfortable, but the restaurant was warm, the French dip sandwiches were exceptional, and an hour had passed before he realized it. He shoved his calculus textbook back into his bag and reached for physics.

The air whispered frustration, so Nick glanced across at his companion’s notebook. Adam hadn’t lied about hating chemistry. It looked like it hated him back, from the amount of cross outs and eraser marks on the paper.

“Balancing equations?” Nick said.

Adam glanced up. “No. Murdering equations.”

“No offense, but why are you taking chemistry if you hate it?

I thought you were all gung ho about dance.”

“I am, but I’d like something to fall back on. I need a science credit.” He shrugged. “It was this or biology, and I didn’t want to cut up dead animals.”

Something to fall back on. Another thing Nick admired about him. “You want me to take a look?”

“Sure.”

Nick expected him to turn the book around, like Gabriel would, but Adam didn’t move. So Nick took his pencil and moved to the other side of the table.

The table wasn’t tiny, but it was small enough that his thigh brushed Adam’s when he sat, and he could feel the warmth of his body in the space between him and the wall.

Chemistry. Focus.

“Here,” he said, writing the first formula on a new line. “I think you’re trying to make it too complicated. I always find it easiest to start with the element that only shows up in one reac-tant and product. Like here, it’s oxygen, so double the H-two-O

on the right side of the arrow.”

“Then I have too many hydrogens.”

“So double it on the left.” Adam did, and Nick said, “Now look at the carbon.”

They worked through the rest of that problem and then started a new one. Nick walked him through that, too. By the third, he shut up and let Adam work through it alone.

“It seems so simple now.” Adam glanced up. “You’re a good teacher.”

Nick flushed at the praise, but he shrugged it off. “Do you want to do another one?”

“Sure.” Adam started writing. When he got to the end of the line, he hesitated, his pencil stopping on the paper. He kept his eyes down. “Do you remember how I told you that my parents wanted me to pretend to be straight, after I got out of the hospital?”

“Yeah.”

“It sucked. I was determined to show them just how g*y I was. I started dating someone right away. It wouldn’t have mattered who it was; I needed a guy so I could show my parents that I was in a relationship. At the studio where I danced then, they rented the space once a week to a martial arts school. One of the instructors was a guy named Matthew. Cute as hell, built like he was born on steroids—you know the type.”

Adam set the pencil down and stopped there. His eyes were still on the chemistry paper. “I flirted with him,” he said. “I flirt with everyone—gay, straight, whatever, I’m not shy.”

Nick remembered. Adam had flirted with him the first night they met, before he even had a clue that Nick might be interested in boys.

“Was he straight?” Nick said.

“I thought he was. But he wasn’t. He’d ignore me when I flirted in public, but once he caught me in the back room and asked me out. I didn’t know anything about him, really, but he was hot, I was shallow, and that was that.”

That wasn’t that. Adam’s voice had gained tension, and Nick waited, listening, glad for the privacy and the dim lighting.

“He wasn’t out,” Adam said, “but he was a few years older.

He had his own place, so we only went there. The first time he kissed me, he was all hesitant and tentative. I thought it was charming. When he invited me back the next night, of course I went.” He shook his head. “He kissed me again, but this time it went further—a lot further.”




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