Secret

CHAPTER 35

Nick sat in the darkened auditorium, watching auditions, feeling the music as it rolled through the theater. Adam and Quinn had been sitting with him, offering running commentary on every dancer to take the stage. He’d nodded along and pretended to understand half the stuff they gossiped about, but now they were due on stage themselves, and they’d left him out here to watch.

He could feel their nerves from here.

Nick tried to feed positive energy into the air.

A hand grabbed the seat-back next to him, then someone swung into the seat beside him.

Nick almost did a double take. Gabriel.

It was enough to shock him out of silence. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Shh. People are performing.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Nick’s chest felt tight with rage. “This is important. This isn’t a joke, Gabriel.”

“No kidding. Would you calm down?”

“Get out. Now.” His breath was shaking and the air had dropped a few degrees. That his brother would use this—that Gabriel would show up here—this was—this was—

Nick swallowed and tried to keep it together. “If you mess with him—if you screw this up—I swear to god—”

“I’m not messing with him. And I know it’s important.” Gabriel turned away from the stage and met Nick’s eyes. “I came here to support my brother’s boyfriend. That okay with you?”

Silence hung between them for the longest moment.

It poked the tiniest hole in Nick’s anger. He quickly plugged it up. “I’m not falling for this.”

Gabriel sighed. “All right. Don’t, then.” He got up, shifted into the aisle, and started walking toward the exit.

No, he moved down a few rows, easing into a new seat.

Nick sat there and watched him. He could feel his twin’s disappointment, his anguish. He felt it himself.

Damn you, Gabriel.

He finally sighed and moved down a few rows to sit beside his twin brother.

Gabriel offered a wicked smile. “I knew this would get you.”

“I hate you.”

The smile vanished. “No. You don’t.”

“I do. A little.” Nick faced forward and rubbed at the back of his neck. A girl in pointe shoes was twirling across the stage. “You really hurt me. A lot—a lot more than I thought was possible.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Nick didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if he wanted this apology.

“I wish I could take it back,” Gabriel said. “You have no idea—”

“Don’t. Don’t do this here.”

Gabriel shut up as if Nick had smacked him. They watched the next routine in tense silence.

Then Gabriel leaned in. “I read your text messages.”

“You what?”

Half a dozen people turned around and hushed him.

Nick clenched his fists and glared at Gabriel. “What are you talking about? When?”

“When you left the phone in the car. At first I just plugged it in to make sure it wasn’t busted. But when it powered up, I saw it was on the text chat with Adam, so—”

“So you read them?”

Gabriel met his eyes and didn’t recoil from his anger. “Those things I said—I didn’t mean them. I didn’t know, Nicky.” He winced. “Nick. I didn’t know. I never meant to hurt you.”

Nick didn’t say anything to that. Was this enough? It didn’t feel like enough.

He turned his head and asked the question that had reverberated through his head since the instant he’d felt his twin’s fist slam into his face. “How could you, Gabriel?” His whispered voice almost broke. “How could you do what you did?”

“I didn’t know what was wrong,” Gabriel said, his words rushed, as if he worried Nick would cut him off again. “I didn’t know your secret. And then—then this complete stranger was apologizing to me, and I knew you were so upset. It was—that night, it was all wrong. I was keyed up from the fight with Tyler. It was a misunderstanding. And then you were fighting me, and I figured out that you had been keeping this huge monumental secret, and I just—I snapped.”

“That’s not good enough.” Nick gritted his teeth. “You shouldn’t have been fighting him. You shouldn’t have put your hands on him.”

“I know. And I apologized to him.”

Nick’s head was reeling. “What? When?”

“This morning, when I called him and asked what time his audition was.”

Nick stared at him.

“I told him not to tell you,” Gabriel added. He hesitated. “I didn’t think you’d let me come.”

Nick wouldn’t have. He had to clear his throat. “What else did you talk about?”

“I asked him why you thought you had to keep this a secret from me.”

Nick glared at him. “You know why. You showed why.”

“No.” And on this, Gabriel’s voice was firm. “I acted like a total shit that night. I apologized for it, and I’ll do it a hundred more times if I have to. But you went to a lot of trouble to keep this secret, way before we went to that coffee shop. Jesus, Nick, two weeks ago you and Quinn were making out on the floor of your bedroom.”

Nick looked away.

Gabriel leaned close, and his voice was very quiet. “Please. Please, talk to me.”

Nick had to swallow. He felt his brother’s pain in those words, how much this imposed distance had hurt him. If Nick was being strictly honest with himself, it had hurt him, too. He missed his brother.

He kept his voice very low. “What did Adam say?”

Gabriel grimaced. “He said I needed to ask you.”

“I knew you already thought of me as . . . as something lesser. I didn’t—”

“Nick, you are not—”

“Don’t. Gabriel, don’t.”

“I have never thought you were lesser, Nick. Never. Do you understand me? Sometimes—sometimes I envy you. Your control—you’re stronger than the rest of us.”

Nick looked at him. “I am not.”

Gabriel nodded. “You are. Look at what happened in the woods.”

Nick didn’t say anything to that. His eyes fixed on the seat in front of him again.

“Nicky—” Gabriel made a frustrated noise. “Nick. If you think you’re lesser because of the whole gay thing, that’s just insane—”

“Is it?” Nick snapped his head around, suddenly furious again. “You made it so easy to tell you all about it.”

Gabriel flinched. He swallowed. “You’re right.” He paused. “I was wrong. So wrong.”

They sat there in silence for the longest time, the air full of music and unspoken thoughts.

Finally Nick cut a glance sideways. “I didn’t—I didn’t trust you not to let me down. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“And when you took a chance, I blew it.” He paused. “You needed me. For the first time, you really needed me.”

Nick looked at him. “Yeah, Gabriel. I did.”

Gabriel didn’t look away. “I’m sorry.” He paused. “Will you give me a chance to make it up to you?”

Nick nodded. “Okay.”

He expected Gabriel to hug him, but his brother whipped out his phone and started texting.

Nick watched his fingers fly across the screen. “What are you doing?”

“Telling Hunter to get everyone down here. Aren’t Adam and Quinn up soon?”

“Yes—but they’ll never get here in time—”

“Sure they will. They’re waiting in the back of the auditorium.”

“Waiting—what?”

Gabriel finished his message and looked up. “Oh, you didn’t think I was coming alone to support your new boyfriend, did you?”

Quinn stood beside Adam and peeked around the corner of the curtain, looking for Nick.

She saw the crowd of people and went rigid. “Holy crap,” she whispered. “He brought everyone.”

Adam was taking long, slow breaths, watching the dancers before them. “Everyone?”

“Everyone,” she breathed. “I told Becca and her mom not to come. But this . . . this is everyone.”

All of Nick’s brothers. Michael’s girlfriend. Layne, and her little brother, Simon. Becca and Hunter. Becca’s mother, who’d even brought Quinn’s little brother.

But not Tyler.

Well, of course not. He and the Merricks hadn’t magically become friends. Firing a gun didn’t erase years of hatred.

And it wasn’t like Tyler had reached out to her, even after Mrs. Chandler had told Quinn about his phone call.

Maybe he saw it as just finishing a good deed and stepping aside.

Adam was fidgeting, smoothing the adhesive number against his shirt for the zillionth time.

Quinn put her hands over his. “You’re amazing. You’ve got this.”

“You’re amazing,” he said back. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

She lost her smile. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Then the emcee called his number and their music began.

Once the beat caught her, Quinn felt like her world exploded into color. She knew this routine; her muscles had memorized each leap, each turn, each step, but today everything felt new and fresh, as if the music and the crowd added power to their dance.

Adam’s hands were strong, catching her perfectly each time, and she matched his height, leap for leap. For the first time, she appreciated the power in her body, reveled in the muscles and the curves and the lines. When Adam did the complicated twist where she went airborne before twirling into his arms, the crowd whooped and whistled. When the music and drums reached a crescendo and he spun her so fast she thought she’d take flight, Adam caught her in midair, right on the beat, and froze.

Silence, for a second. Then the auditorium erupted in applause.

The center judge leaned into her microphone and said, “Thank you.”

Adam set her on her feet and kissed her on her cheek. “You were amazing.”

The judge leaned forward again and spoke into the mic. “Excuse me. Miss. One moment, please. Young lady.”

Adam grabbed her arm. “Quinn. She means you.”

Quinn stared out into the lights. “Yes?”

“Please be sure to have your number on for the solo portion.”

“Oh! I’m not—I’m not—”

“Here it is!” called a male voice from the edge of the stage. A white sticker was in his hand, and he was holding it up to her. “You left it with me, baby girl.”

“Tyler,” she whispered. What had he—what—

“Please clear the stage for the next participants,” the judge said.

Adam grabbed her hand and dragged her down the steps.

And sure enough, Tyler was standing there, his hair and eyes glinting from the stage lights. Quinn stared up at him, completely at a loss for what to say.

Tyler snorted and dragged her away from Adam, into the darkness of the side aisle. “You with no words,” he whispered. “There’s a first.” He peeled the backing off the adhesive number.

“How did you—what did you—”

“Well,” he said, moving close, pressing the number over her abdomen, letting his fingers linger along her waist. “Remember when you said you weren’t the type to have a spare hundred dollars lying around?”

She wet her lips. “Yeah.”

“Well, maybe I am.”

“You signed me up.”

“Someone had to.” He leaned in, finding her face with his hands, coming close enough to share breath. “And this, I’ll let you kiss me for.”

“This, I don’t mind kissing you—”

“Shut up,” he said.

Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.