Secret

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.

When she really thought about it, she had a lot of people looking out for her, and she’d treated them all like crap.

Then Tyler strolled through the door looking like he’d been in a fight. His jacket was filthy, his jeans looking somewhat charred around the seams. He dropped a leaking bag of Chinese food on the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said flatly. “The place was packed. I had to wait.”

Quinn stared at him. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Your boyfriend happened,” he said flatly. “He and his brother just renewed my desire to kill them.”

Nick needed to call home.

He didn’t want to, but if he didn’t show up, Michael would worry.

He sat on the end of Adam’s bed, staring at Adam’s cell phone, while his host banged around in the kitchen, making something he claimed would be better than coffee.

Nick almost hoped it would be something better than hard liquor, because he wouldn’t mind turning off his thoughts for a while.

It was close to ten. He only knew two numbers by heart: the house phone and Gabriel’s cell.

No contest.

The house phone rang four times. With each ring, Nick’s heart staggered as he prepared for Gabriel to pick up.

Fate smiled on him this time. Chris answered.

“It’s me,” said Nick. “Is Mike around?”

“He’s out with Hannah.” Chris hesitated. “Where are you calling from? Are you okay?”

“Did Gabriel get home yet?”

“No, why? Where are you?”

Nick absolutely hated that his twin brother had been such a dick, but he still felt a flicker of worry about where Gabriel had gone—or what he was doing. “Look—Chris, it’s nothing. Can you tell Michael something for me?”

“Sure. Whatever you need.” Chris hesitated. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

No. Nick rubbed at his eyes. He wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep for a month. “Will you tell him—” Tell him what? That his twin brother had broken his heart? That he couldn’t come home for . . . ever? Nick cleared his throat. “Tell him I’m spending the night with a friend. I accidentally left my phone in the car.”

Another pause. A weighted one. Chris’s voice was low. “Would this friend be Adam?”

Nick froze.

Chris continued, “That’s who sent you the text message at school, right?”

At lunch. When he’d flipped out.

“Yeah.” Nick swallowed. He couldn’t read his brother’s voice, and after the fight with Gabriel, this uncertainty left him on edge.

Chris was silent for a moment, and Nick could imagine him standing there, choosing his words carefully.

Nick couldn’t handle the silence. “Say something, Chris,” he said, more sharply than he intended. “You’ve obviously figured it out. So say what you want to say.”

Adam had stopped whatever he was doing in the kitchen, and was now watching Nick from across the apartment.

You okay? he mouthed.

Nick nodded.

And Chris was still silent.

“Forget it,” said Nick bitterly. “Just tell Michael where I am and that I’m okay.”

“Wait,” said Chris.

Nick waited.

Chris took a breath. “I’m sorry you thought you had to keep this a secret.”

The words hit with every bit as much impact as Gabriel’s had—but these didn’t hurt. In fact, they seemed to absorb some of the earlier blow. Nick didn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay,” Chris added. “I mean—with me. You’re my brother, and—I want you to be happy, all right?”

Nick drew a shaky breath. He was nodding until he realized that was ridiculous and Chris couldn’t see him. “All right.”

“Seriously. You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to Gabriel? Didn’t you go out together?”

Nick drew a hand down his face. “I don’t really want to talk about it. I only wanted to make sure someone knew where I was.”

Chris didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ll tell Michael.”

“Thanks.” Nick paused. “Hey. How did you know?”

“I didn’t know for sure. But that day in the cafeteria. When Gabriel was giving you shit about the text message.” Chris hesitated. “When you left, you were crying.”

Damn. “Did anyone else see?”

“No one saw. I felt it.” Another pause. “It’s okay, though. I didn’t say anything.”

He felt it. The tears.

Nick almost smiled. “You’re a good little brother.”

“Nah, you caught me on a good day.”

Now Nick did smile. “I’m glad you were home.” He looked up and saw Adam standing by the stove. It looked like he was stirring something. Nick inhaled chocolate and cinnamon. “I should go.”

“Okay.” He paused. “I’m here all night if you need to call back.”

If Gabriel’s actions had shredded his heart, Chris was doing wonders to stitch it back together. “Thanks, Chris.”

“No problem. I love you, brother.” And before Nick could say anything to that, Chris hung up.

Nick stared at the phone, touched and bemused. Then he walked out to join Adam in the kitchen.

He hesitated at the juncture between carpet and linoleum. This felt like the first night they’d come here, when he wasn’t sure what Adam expected. They’d apologized, and Adam had invited him here, but did that mean everything was fine?

Adam glanced back over his shoulder, but he didn’t stop stirring whatever was in the saucepan on the stove. “Everything okay?”

Nick wanted to touch him, to feel some contact that wasn’t full of violence and anger. “Yeah. What are you making?”

“Hot chocolate with Nutella.”

“It smells amazing.”

“It’s my guilty pleasure. My mom used to make it when I had a bad day.” He tossed another glance over his shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone at the studio. I’m supposed to live on lettuce and carrot sticks.”

“You’re worse than Quinn.” But now his eyes were on Adam’s body, the breadth of his shoulders, the slow movement of his arms as he stirred the pot. The way dark hair curled at the nape of his neck. The softness of his skin, the hardness of the muscles underneath.

Touch him. Touch him. Touch him.

“I doubt that,” said Adam. “Hey, can you pull down some mugs?”

Nick couldn’t even remember what they were talking about. But Adam’s request broke the spell and spurred him into motion. He found the mugs on the second guess, reaching to pull them down from the highest shelf.

When Adam’s hands came around him from behind, he gasped and almost dropped both mugs.

Adam laughed and slid his hands up Nick’s chest, moving close until they were almost pressed together. He kissed the back of Nick’s neck, breathing along the skin there. “You were making me crazy, standing there like that.”

He was making Nick crazy, standing there like that. When Adam’s hand slid under his shirt, tracing the skin below his rib cage, Nick shivered.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” Nick admitted.

Adam froze. The mood in the air changed.

Then his hand tightened on Nick’s waist roughly, jerking him close. Very close. “Any question now?”

Nick blushed so hard he was glad he was looking away. He shook his head.

Adam let him go abruptly and took the mugs out of his hands, slamming them onto the counter beside the stove. Any playful banter was gone from his voice. “I think that’s part of the problem,” he said, killing the heat on the stove. “You’re so damn worried about what everyone else wants. Well, you know what, Nick? You’re going to disappoint people sometimes. You just are. And you know what else? They’re either going to get over it or they’re not. If they don’t, it sucks. But it’s not going to kill them, and it’s sure not going to kill you.” He poured the hot chocolate into the mugs, then slammed the saucepan back onto a cool burner. “In fact, if you ask me, Gabriel is long overdue for some disappointment.”

Nick flinched.

Adam pulled a can of whipped cream out of the refrigerator and shook it like he meant it harm. “You can’t live your whole life waiting around to make sure people approve of the choices you make. That’s why you’ve got a drawer full of unopened college letters. That’s why you’ve got a house full of brothers who didn’t have a clue about what you wanted. That’s why—”

Nick shoved him up against the refrigerator and kissed him. Hard.

Adam’s breath caught, but he kissed him back, matching Nick’s intensity. The can of whipped cream hit the floor. Fingers tangled in Nick’s hair.

Nick caught his wrists and broke the kiss, pinning Adam against the refrigerator with hands and body. He could feel everything, but he wasn’t blushing now.

Adam’s eyes were heavy with desire, but maybe a little fear hid there, too. His breathing came fast, too fast.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Nick said, his voice low. Despite Adam’s lecture about doing what he wanted, there were real stakes here. He softened his hold on Adam’s wrists and backed off a bit, leaning in to kiss his cheek, the edge of his jaw, using his teeth to nip at the sensitive skin below his ear.

Adam’s breath shuddered. “I like it,” he whispered, so softly that Nick might not have heard him if not for the air carrying the sound to his ears.

Nick hesitated, the warm skin of Adam’s neck under his lips. “What was that?”

When he didn’t get an answer, he drew back.

The first night Adam brought him here, Nick had followed instincts and pressed Adam down on the couch. Adam had called a stop to it—for understandable reasons—but what had he said?

You’re strong. I’m not complaining.

Nick searched his face. He took a chance. He seized Adam’s wrist and dragged him. “Come on.”

When they made it to the shadowed cavern of Adam’s bedroom, Nick didn’t hesitate. He shut the door, closing the darkness in around them. Then he grabbed the hem of Adam’s shirt and pulled, dragging it over his head.

Then he shoved Adam up against the wall and kissed him again, holding nothing back. He let his hands explore, pinning Adam’s wrists when he tried to do the same. Letting Adam’s breath guide him.

When the air whispered of fear again, Nick gentled his touch and leaned close to whisper. “You’ll tell me to stop if we get too rough?”

“You promise to stop if I say so?”

Nick caught his face in his hands and kissed him. “Yes. Yes, I promise. I will never hurt you. I promise.”

Again, his brain whispered. I will never hurt you again.

“Then keep going,” said Adam.

Nick kept going.

And Adam never said stop.