Secret

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?”

Nick nodded and followed.

But Adam stopped short. Nick knew what he’d spotted without even seeing around him. “What’s with the air mattress?”

“Hunter sleeps there. He’s my temporary roommate.”

“You didn’t say you had a roommate.”

Nick shrugged. “I don’t really think about it.” He smiled. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t be. He’s going through some stuff with his mom.” Nick paused and stepped around him to turn on the light. “He’s also Gabriel’s best friend.”

Adam pulled out the desk chair and straddled it backward, leaning his arms on the back. “Then why doesn’t he room with Gabriel?”

Nick shrugged and dropped onto the end of his bed. “I have more floor space. Gabriel and I used to share this room, until . . . well, until we didn’t have to anymore.”

Until his parents had died, and Michael finally got around to cleaning out the master bedroom. It hadn’t happened right away. Two years had passed before any of them felt like changing around the sleeping arrangements.

Gabriel had been eager for his own space. Nick hadn’t wanted him to go.

And now the tables were turned, with a drawer full of college letters offering him a way out of this house. Maybe out of this town.

“So serious,” said Adam quietly. “What’s rolling around in your head?”

Nothing he wanted to talk about. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” Adam paused, then unwound himself from the chair to join Nick on the end of the bed. He found Nick’s hand and threaded their fingers together.

Then he said, “Are you still hoarding a stack of unopened mail?”

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you opened them? What are you afraid of?”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Adam hesitated. “I don’t think that’s true. You know.”

He was right. Nick did know. Opening those letters would force him to make a choice. A decision about where his life was going.

A decision about staying or leaving.

“It’s so different for you,” Nick said. “You know you want to be a dancer. You know you’re good at it. I want—I—I don’t know.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with what you want, and more about what you don’t want. You don’t want to disappoint your brothers.” A pause. “Isn’t that the same reason you don’t want to tell them about you and me?”

Nick looked away, but Adam kept a firm grip on his hand. “I’m not chastising you. I understand it. I know I’m disappointing my parents every day. But you know what? I can’t live my life for them. I have to live my life for me.”

“You’re disappointing your parents?”

Adam scoffed and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Please. You think they want their only child to be a dancer? My dad is always asking if I’m sure I don’t want to take a few pre-med classes. Me. Pre-med. I can’t even slice into frogs in biology.”

“What does he do?”

“He is a doctor.” Adam smiled. “Wait, ready for some irony? He’s a gynecologist. Mom tells him that he’s looked at so many vaginas that I came out predisposed to avoid them.”

Nick burst out laughing.

“There.” Adam whipped out his phone and snapped a picture. “I needed one with your smile.”

“You’re incorrigible.” But Nick snatched the phone and took another picture—of Adam trying to get it back.

They wrestled for it, laughing, rolling, a tangle of limbs and mock fierceness. Then Adam’s lips found his, his body trapping Nick on the bed, the hand that had just been grappling for the phone stroking down the length of his chest, finding the hem of his shirt and sliding underneath.

For the first time, Nick didn’t hesitate at his touch. Maybe it was Adam’s admission about his own insecurities, maybe it was the fact that they were here, in his room, in his space. Maybe it was the time limit, knowing this could be cut short at any moment if his brothers came home.

Maybe it was Adam’s tongue drawing at his.

A thumb brushed his nipple and Nick gasped, feeling it all the way through his body. He grabbed the hem of his own shirt and broke the kiss long enough to yank it over his head.

Adam grinned. “Someone’s feeling more comfortable.”

“Someone’s liking the feel of your hands.”

“Just my hands?” Adam’s mouth descended on his neck, trailing lips and breath and teeth along Nick’s skin.

Nick sucked in a breath—then held it when Adam kissed a line down his chest.

Brown eyes flicked up to meet his. “What do you want?” Adam whispered.

You.

But he couldn’t say it.

Adam brushed a kiss against his lips, then shifted off the bed.

Nick caught his arm. “Don’t. Don’t go.”

Low laughter. “I’m not going anywhere.” Adam stretched to turn off the light, sending the room into near darkness.

When he reached for the door, Nick sat up on his elbows. “Leave it open so I can hear if anyone comes home.”

Adam closed it halfway. Nick was going to protest even that, but then Adam pulled his shirt over his head, and Nick forgot his own last name.

“Whoa,” he breathed. “I think you need to turn the light back on.”

Adam crawled back on the bed, his dusky skin rolling with shadows as he moved. “You sweet-talker.”

Nick wanted to reach out, to let his fingers drift across the muscled planes of Adam’s chest, but he couldn’t move. He’d spent so long denying any kind of attraction to a boy that having one shirtless in his bed was making every nerve ending hypersensitive. He felt like a land mine. One touch and he’d explode. “Why did you turn the light off?”

Adam eased in close to him, until their chests were touching. He put a hand against Nick’s cheek and kissed him. “Because it’s easier to turn off worries in the dark.”

Nick met his eyes in the darkness. “Yours or mine?”

“Both.” Then Adam kissed him again, a broad hand exploring Nick’s chest. Nick touched his face, his shoulder, letting his hands roam. His teeth nipped at Adam’s lip, then his jaw.

Adam made a soft sound, a good sound. Nick did it again, biting a little harder. The room felt ten degrees warmer. Maybe twenty. He had to be doing it, but he didn’t care.

Adam trapped one of Nick’s legs under his and shifted closer, pressing into him until there was no doubt he was happy to be there. Now Nick couldn’t help the low moan that escaped his throat. His breathing quickened, thrusting his chest into Adam’s with every inhale.

Adam’s hand drifted lower, finding Nick’s stomach, slow fingers sliding along the waistband of his jeans.

Adam’s hands, his mouth—Nick couldn’t think. His body was acting on instinct, and he couldn’t process every emotion.

Especially when Adam stopped teasing and stroked his hand over the front of Nick’s jeans. No hesitation, no gentleness, but enough grip to steal every thought from Nick’s head. He sucked in a breath. The room spun.

“Too much?” whispered Adam.

“Not enough.”

Deft fingers flipped the button loose. Before Nick could contemplate exactly what that meant, Adam was touching him.

Nick cried out. Adam captured the sound with a kiss.

He never wanted this moment to end.

And then it did.

Someone called his name and the overhead light flipped on. Suddenly Nick was scrambling to right himself.

Then Hunter was swiftly backing out of the room, saying, “Oh. Oh, shit. I am—I’m going—I’m sorry—”

He slammed the door. Nick heard his footsteps on the stairs as he jogged down.

“Fuck,” said Nick. He sat up and pressed his hands into his eyes. He was shaking and he couldn’t stop. His emotions couldn’t handle the abrupt one-eighty. Part of him wanted to cry and another part wanted to punch something. “Fuck.”

Adam’s hands touched his shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. He’ll tell—I can’t—” His voice broke.

Hunter would tell Gabriel. He might be telling him right now. Nick could imagine the text messages. Dude. Just found your brother with another guy. No, seriously.

Nick choked on his breath. The heat in the room was turning into a bitter chill. He shivered.

Adam’s arms came around him from behind, holding him. “It’ll be okay.” He brushed a kiss against Nick’s hair. “I promise. It’ll be—”

Nick jerked free and hit him in the chest, shoving him away with a force driven by rage and fear. “It is not okay!”

As soon as he did it, he regretted it. With the light on, he could see every ounce of hurt in Adam’s eyes. Every ounce of disappointment.

Every ounce of anger.

Nick took a breath. “I’m sorry. Adam—wait.”

But Adam was already pulling his shirt on, shoving his phone into his pocket, heading for the door.

Nick went after him, catching his arm. “Please,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Adam stopped, but he didn’t look at him. “Let me go, Nick.”

“I don’t want to.” He paused and moved closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t ready for that—”

“You know what?” Adam looked at him now. “I’ve heard it before, okay?”

Nick jerked back. “I would never hurt you.”

“Too late.” Adam pulled the door open and kept his voice low. “Let me go. Now.”

Nick couldn’t take the pain in his voice. He’d build a rainbow banner in the front hall announcing his sexuality if it would fix this. “Please. Adam, stay. Please.”

Now Adam turned and shoved him away, dislodging Nick’s grip. “I told you to let me go.” He didn’t wait for a response, just walked out the door.

Nick followed, buttoning his pants as he jogged down the steps after him. He had no shoes, no shirt, but he was ready to follow Adam down the street barefoot if he had to.

“Stop,” he pleaded. “Wait—wait. At least let me walk you to the bus stop.”

“I’m not a girl, Nick.” Adam didn’t even hesitate at the front door.

“Please wait. Please—I’m sorry.”

Adam rounded on him on the porch. His eyes were shining in the light. “You know what sucks about sorry? It’s the worst word in the world. Because it always happens after you fuck up something good.”

Then he turned and started walking. Nick went after him again. Wind whipped between them, whispering of Adam’s fury.

Adam whirled. “Don’t you follow me. I don’t want you near me right now. Do you understand? You’re so worried about what everyone else will think? I’ll make it real easy for you.”

“Stop it. Let’s talk about this.”

“What’s to talk about? You care more about what people think than you care about me. Crystal clear. Message received.” He started walking again.

Nick took a step, but Adam called over his shoulder. “You follow me, and I’m calling the cops.”

He was serious. Nick could feel it in the air between them.

He could also tell that Adam was crying.

It broke his heart and almost sent him running down the driveway.

Instead, he dropped onto the wooden steps and watched Adam walk, casting his senses far and wide, feeling Adam’s presence even after he disappeared from view. He stayed there, holding on to that tiny connection, until Adam stepped out of range or got on a bus.

Nick lost the sense. Adam was gone.