Secret

CHAPTER 7

The job took too long. Good, in a way, because Nick barely had time to shower, much less think about what he was doing. He threw on jeans and a striped Henley before checking himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess of wet clumps, and he could probably stand to spend five minutes with a razor. Five minutes he didn’t have.

Stellar. He was going to show up on Adam’s doorstep looking like he didn’t give a shit.

Gabriel appeared in his doorway. “I thought you had to study.”

“Library. Helping Quinn with trig.” Nick couldn’t meet his eyes. It was easier keeping the secret from Chris and Michael, but Gabriel would see right through him. Now he definitely couldn’t linger.

He grabbed a tube of hair stuff and squeezed some into his hand. He ran it through his hair as he went down the steps, hoping it would be enough. Then the car keys were in his hand and his messenger bag was over his shoulder.

“Nicky—” Gabriel started.

“Later, okay?” Nick said. “I told her I’d pick her up at eight.”

“But—”

Nick shut the door in his face. Then he paused there on the porch, his hand on the doorknob. For an instant, he wanted to pull the door open. Gabriel knew he was hiding something, as clearly as Nick had known it when Gabriel was sneaking into burning houses with Hunter.

As clearly as Nick knew Gabriel was on the other side of this door, his hand on the same doorknob, deliberating whether to come after him.

For an instant, Nick wanted him to. He wanted Gabriel to throw open the door and demand something like what the fuck is going on with you, Nicky? Because then he could tell him, and he wouldn’t have to carry this secret around anymore.

The door jerked open and the knob slipped from under his hand. Nick gasped and tried to hold on to his heartbeat before it bolted straight out of his body.

Gabriel studied him, his expression fierce.

Nick braced himself. Tell him. Tell him tell him tell him.

His lips froze. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” said Gabriel. “You tell Quinn if Tyler messes with her again, I’ll track him down and make him hurt for a month.”

Right. Quinn. His girlfriend.

The air left Nick’s lungs. He turned and stepped off the porch, willing the adrenaline to get the hell out of his body. “You don’t even like Quinn.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to have an excuse to go kick his ass.”

Nick pushed the button to unlock the car and didn’t say anything.

“Nicky,” Gabriel called from the porch. His voice gained an edge. “Are you mad at me about something?”

No. Yes. Nick had no idea.

“No,” he called back. “Just late.”

He started the car so he didn’t have to hear what else Gabriel said. But his brother’s offer rolled around in his head, gaining traction while he drove. Quinn wasn’t even his girlfriend, so it shouldn’t have pissed him off.

But it did. Mostly because Gabriel was right: Nick hadn’t done anything to protect her.

He knew being gay wasn’t the equivalent of being weak, but right now, it sure felt like they went hand in hand.

He couldn’t exactly dispute it, either, not while he was sneaking out to see a guy instead of avenging Quinn.

When he pulled into the parking lot, he killed the engine, then sat there. He’d been keyed up about seeing Adam all day, and now he wanted to crawl back into that proverbial closet and wedge the door closed.

This was like physics class, where he didn’t know the right formulas. Adam would be expecting something from him tonight, and Nick had no idea what. Was study here just code for come over and make out? What if it was, and Nick missed the cues? Worse, what if it wasn’t?

He looked at the clock on the dash. Ten past eight. He was already late. He could start the engine and peel out of here. Forget their kiss. Forget everything.

Coward. First he couldn’t face Gabriel, and now he couldn’t face Adam.

A hand knocked on the passenger window, and Nick jumped a mile.

Adam stood there in the dark, his eyes shadowed and his expression hidden.

Nick unlocked the car, and Adam climbed in without hesitation, bringing the scent of cloves and oranges with him.

He didn’t say anything, and Nick peeked over at him. He’d expected loose dance clothes like last night, but Adam wore dark jeans and a red T-shirt under a charcoal gray pea coat. He had a messenger bag, too, beat-up brown leather that looked like it would explode from the weight of whatever was inside. His expression was easy, but his eyes were cautious.

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.”

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 whirlwinds 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 resolved.

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 gay?”

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 reactant 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 gay 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.”

Adam stopped again, his jaw clenched now.

Nick wanted to touch him, to offer some comfort. He wasn’t sure Adam would accept it. His brothers sure wouldn’t, and he wasn’t exactly rolling in experience with comforting other guys.

“So we’re in his apartment,” Adam said, his voice very low, “and he’s practically naked, and he begs me to take care of him. He’s hot and sweet and nice, and I’m into him, so I do. And we lie there for like thirty seconds, and I’m thinking I’ve finally found someone special. Instead, he tells me to get the fuck out of his apartment. I’m confused, right? Like, what the hell. But clearly I wasn’t moving fast enough, because he punched me in the stomach and slammed me into the wall beside his door.”

Nick’s breath caught. He wasn’t sure where he’d thought this story was going, but—that wasn’t it.

Adam looked up. He met Nick’s eyes and quickly looked away, ashamed. “This is insane. I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.”

Nick reached out and touched his cheek, bringing his face back around. Adam’s eyes closed and his breath shuddered, but he didn’t pull away.

“Don’t shut up,” Nick said softly. “Talk. Tell me.”

Adam pulled Nick’s fingers away from his face, but then he kept a death grip on his hand. “It happened too fast. He was on his knees apologizing, comforting me before I even knew what hit me. He said he snapped, that nothing like that had ever happened before. And you know what’s really insane? I believed him. I let him buy me dinner. I thought he was genuinely sorry. And when he asked me to come back the next night, I went. He was sweet, he was charming—it was fine. But a week later, the exact same thing happened.

“So here I’m dating a guy who’s beating the shit out of me, the exact thing my parents warned me about, and I couldn’t tell them because it would be one more thing to reinforce what they wanted. And the worst part is that I started to believe I deserved it. Or that it was normal. That it was something all gay relationships went through. Like aggression is just part of the package or something. Besides—what was I supposed to do? Complain that another guy was beating me up? Do you know what that sounds like?”

Nick knew exactly what that sounded like. “You’re not weak,” he said.

“Oh, I was. This went on for a long time. I never knew what would set him off. Some days he was wonderful, and I’d think it was all in my head. He would cry and tell me how he wanted so badly to be better. Other days he was . . . terrifying. I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore, and he said he’d tell everyone that I was sexually harassing him, that I was some kind of deviant, that I shouldn’t be allowed to work with kids. I loved my job. I didn’t know what to do.” Adam looked up. His eyes were shining, but he wasn’t crying. “He was smart, too. He knew how to hit where it wouldn’t show. I’d be too sore to dance, but there wouldn’t be a mark on me. I remember once I threw up blood, and I wanted to go to the hospital. He said he’d tell them I had HIV. I don’t—I’ve never—I . . . My dad would have found out, and I couldn’t—”

He broke off. His hand was tight on Nick’s. He took a long breath, steadying himself. “I couldn’t go. After that, I was scared to tell anyone anything. For three months. Then he was offered a job somewhere else, and he moved. That was it. I didn’t even solve my own problem. It just went away.”

Nick moved closer, breathing along Adam’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he said. He touched Adam’s face again. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. I’ve never told anyone.” But his voice was still heavy. He brushed Nick’s hand away and started to put some distance between them. “I can’t believe I told you.”

Nick caught him with a hand against his neck, but gently, so Adam could move if he really wanted to. “I won’t hurt you.” When Adam didn’t resist, Nick stroked his thumb along his jaw and put his forehead against his temple. The waitress could probably see them, but he couldn’t make himself care, not now. “I understand now. I won’t hurt you.”

Adam shook his head and gave a choked laugh. “You asked earlier about boyfriends? None, since him. I’ll go out and have a good time, but I never go to anyone’s place. I never bring anyone back to mine.”

Nick drew back so he could look into Adam’s eyes. “Except me.”

“Except you.” Adam paused. “You know when I first knew I was going to fall for you?”

Nick shook his head.

“On the beach, when we were rescuing Quinn. That one guy was going to hit me, and you got in front of him. You took the hit. I’d never seen anyone do anything so brave in my life. Especially not for me.”

“I’m not brave,” said Nick. “Not at all.”

“You’re letting me hang all over you in a restaurant. I’d say that’s pretty brave.”

Nick smiled. “A deserted restaurant. And you’re not hanging all over me. I think you’re the brave one, putting up with all that. I’m in . . . in awe of you.” Nick felt heat crawl up his cheeks again, but he couldn’t offer anything less than honesty now. Not after that. “You’ve got your whole life together. You know what you want, and you’re even making a backup plan. I’ve got a drawer full of college letters that I’m afraid to open, and I’m living with four guys who don’t know I’m . . . ah . . .”

“Say it,” said Adam.

Nick shut his eyes and sighed. “Gay. I’m gay.”

“See? Brave.”

“I’m not—”

Adam kissed him. Gently, his mouth moving slowly against Nick’s. He pulled away before too long.

“Thanks for listening,” he said quietly.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“You boys need anything else?”

Nick started. The older waitress was there beside the table. He hadn’t heard her approach. Worse—he hadn’t felt her approach. Would she say something? He should probably start disentangling himself from Adam. His voice wouldn’t work and his face felt like his cheeks were going to burn clean off.

“No, thanks,” Adam said. He sounded amused.

She ripped a piece of paper from her pad and set it on the table. “You two are just the cutest ever.”

Nick froze. She didn’t care. They’d been head to head at this table, and she hadn’t batted an eye.

Adam winked at her. “Sounds like someone’s looking for a tip.”

“Here’s a tip,” she said. “Don’t flirt with old married ladies when you’ve got a sure thing in your arms.”

“Am I the sure thing in this scenario?” said Nick.

“I don’t know,” Adam said. “Are you?”

The waitress laughed and left them with the check.

“She didn’t care,” said Nick softly. “I know it’s stupid, but I thought—”

“What, that people would come out with pitchforks? Flaming torches?”

“Maybe.”

Adam kissed him on the cheek. “You’re adorable. People surprise you sometimes. Especially when you give them the chance.”

The words hit Nick hard, the way words you need to hear usually do. He held them in his head for examination later.

When they walked back to Adam’s apartment, he reached out to hold the other boy’s hand. And Nick didn’t care one bit who saw.