Breathless

But he could still dance like no one she’d ever seen.

Quinn missed a cue and almost ended up with her face planted in the wood floor. Adam caught her, and she struggled to right herself.

“See?” she snapped. “I can’t keep up with you.”

“No,” he said, putting a hand on her waist to set her straight. “I actually think your friend was right. It was missing a partner.”

“Do you know anyone who can do it with you?”

Adam gave her half a smile. “I thought you were.”

Her eyes flared. “No! This is your audition piece. I’m sure you know someone—”

“I do know someone. I’m looking at her.”

“Oh, I get it, you think having someone do a face plant on stage will make you look better?”

Now he grinned. He was insanely adorable and she was instantly reminded of why she’d had a crush on him in the first place. “Afraid?”

“I—just—you—”

“Yes,” Nick called from behind her. “She is.”

Quinn scowled. “I’d mess it up for you.”

“I’ve auditioned three times and gotten nowhere. I don’t think you could mess it up for me.” He paused, and his eyes went serious. “There’s a different energy to it now. Can’t you feel it?”

Actually, she could. Despite nearly smashing her face in, up to that point, the music had seemed to carry her, like her movement and the song had combined to form something more potent than just a hastily thrown-together dance in a dusty backroom studio at the Y.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to imagine how massive and ungainly she looked next to Adam. “When is your audition?”

“Next month. Four weeks.”

“Four weeks?” she exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?”

“Come on, that’s nothing.”

“Yes, but—but—”

“Don’t let her out of it,” Nick said.

Quinn swung her head around. “Maybe we can cut the commentary?”

Nick met her eyes from across the room, and held them. “Sure, if you say yes.”

“But I don’t—”

“Jesus, Quinn,” Nick snapped. “What else do you have to do?”

And that was one of the things she liked about Nick. He put up with her whining until she was almost sick of herself, and then he called her on her bullshit.

At least it would get her out of the house and away from her mother. And Jake.

And away from those idiot cheerleaders.

And maybe, somewhere deep down inside, she really wanted to see if she could do this.

She looked back at Adam. “All right. Let’s work it out.”

They sketched out a routine, modifying his original piece to incorporate a partner, putting together some moves that she could work on alone.

The whole time, Nick sat without complaint, even when she asked if he needed to go. He’d shrugged and said he was enjoying the music. She’d had other guys come to the studio before, but they usually sighed and started shuffling around after a half hour.

Nick watched. It was both flattering and unnerving.

They danced until her muscles ached and the director was walking around, turning off lights and threatening to lock them inside.

Then they were walking outside, stepping into the cold night air, their breath just starting to fog.

Yes, she was definitely regretting the little booty shorts. Quinn shivered.

Nick had keys in his hand, and he hit the clicker. The lights on his brother’s red work truck flashed. “Get in,” he said. “I’ll put the heat on.”

Oh, wow. She had to grab the handle over the door to even get into this thing.

Adam was standing there, watching her.

No. He was watching Nick. Nick, who was pointedly not looking back at him.

“So, tomorrow morning?” said Adam.

“Sure,” she said, even though he wasn’t even looking at her. “Nine?”

“You coming, too?” he said to Nick.

Nick shrugged and looked at the sky. “Can’t. I told my brother I’d help with a job.”

“So can I get your number then?”

Nick sucked in a breath, looking thrown, like Adam had socked him in the stomach.

Quinn stifled a giggle at his reaction. If Nick Merrick was into guys, half the female population at Old Mill would be sobbing. “Adam, he’s not g*y.”

For the first time all night, Adam lost the smile.

Nick ran a hand through his hair, looking completely unnerved. “Sorry, man—I just—”

“Nah.” Adam shook it off, and a shadow of his smile reappeared. “It’s cool. My bad.” He gave Quinn a wave and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nick was quiet when they headed out on the road.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to warm her hands by the vents. The truck cab was freezing, and the engine didn’t seem to want to blow warm air. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”

Nick’s voice was somewhat hollow. “It’s okay.”

“He’s not usually that bold. I can’t believe he asked for your number.”

Nick didn’t say anything. Quinn wondered if he really was pissed.

That made her frown. “It’s not catching, you know,” she said.

He glanced over, and his voice was mild. “Quinn, I’m not upset about it.”

She chewed on that for a minute and wondered whether to push or to leave it.

Before she could make a decision, Nick reached out and touched her cheek. “I think you sell yourself short. You’re an amazing dancer.”

His hand was warm, and she leaned into the contact. “Thanks heaps, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughed. “I guess. But I couldn’t see any great disparity between you and him.”

“Disparity. God, sometimes it’s a wonder you and Gabriel are twin brothers.”

Nick sobered. “Why?”

“You’re like a walking SAT prep book. I guarantee if you went home, Gabriel wouldn’t even know the meaning of the word. On the outside, you’re absolutely identical, but on the inside, it’s like you’re polar opposites.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair again. “Trust me, I know exactly what you mean.”

CHAPTER 3

Nick threw the truck into park in the lot in front of Quinn’s condo building.

He made no move to kill the engine.

She made no move to get out.

In fact, she was staring out the windshield, clutching her sweatshirt to her chest again. The moonlight traced silver along the lines of her face, leaving her eyes in shadow. Her jaw was tight.

“Do you want me to drive you to Becca’s instead?” he said.

She shook her head and glanced over. “Can I crash with you again?”

Nick kept his eyes on the steering wheel and didn’t say anything. He’d let her spend the night once, after Gabriel had cut her self-esteem to shreds by making a bunch of cracks about her weight. Quinn had been so full of rage and self-hatred that Nick had been worried she’d go home and find a set of razor blades or something.

He’d never let a girl spend the night before.

He’d never wanted to.

He didn’t want to now.

Besides, if Michael found her there, he’d make damn sure she left, and he’d probably make it as humiliating as possible, just to be sure Nick wouldn’t try to sneak a girl in again.

But maybe sharing his bed with Quinn again was exactly what he should do, just to shake loose all the indecisions rattling around inside his head.

And she obviously didn’t want to go home.

“Please?” she whispered.

Nick let a breath out through his teeth. His thoughts felt stuck on a spinning roulette wheel, bouncing along, never settling where he expected, leaving him half-hoping it would keep spinning—and half-hoping it would stop.

Quinn read too much into his hesitation. She crawled across the cab to climb into his lap, until she was pinned between him and the steering wheel. Her hands traced their way up his chest, and she whispered against his lips. “Need convincing?”

Maybe he did.

Nick kissed her, tasting her lips, teasing her mouth with his tongue. Her waist fit between his hands perfectly, and in the close confines of the truck cab, he was very aware of every motion of her body. She was warm and smelled like sugar cookies, and it was . . . pleasant.

It was always pleasant.

Not just with Quinn—with any girl. Not great, not electrifying, not earth-moving.

Pleasant.

When he was younger, he’d thought maybe it was a maturity thing. Gabriel had barely been thirteen when he started talking about boobs and  p**n  and whatever else he ran on at the mouth about. And of course he’d shared everything with Nick.

Nick hadn’t really cared. He’d pretended to care, because their parents were gone and he was so desperately terrified of losing anyone else, especially his twin, so he’d done everything he could to live up to his brothers’ expectations of him. He’d gone along with it, thinking that hormones would catch up at some point, that one day he’d wake up imagining cheerleaders soaping up in the shower or something.

He never did.

His imagination was perfectly content to feed him other ideas, however. Ideas that Nick shoved out of his head practically upon thinking them.

Ideas that would definitely drive a wedge between him and his brothers, if they knew.

So he kept dating girls, still hoping that one day he’d wake up with new ideas.

Sometimes he could get into it, could seek out bare skin with his hands and mouth, could let them half undress him and explore his body in the darkness. Like now, with everything cloaked in shadow and a tongue stroking his, a strong body pressing into him, fingers in his hair.

Nick made a small sound in his throat. Like this, he could pretend he was with—

Stop.

No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t pretend anything. He couldn’t even let himself think it. He shoved those thoughts from his brain and told that roulette wheel to keep f**king spinning and settle somewhere else.

Quinn must have felt the change in his body, the sudden tension, because she drew back. The inside of the truck was stifling hot. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

Everything. “Nothing. It’s just—nothing.” He paused, trying to breathe. Him! Fighting for air! And words. He choked on half of them. “Just—you don’t need to sleep with me if you want me to help you, Quinn.”

She went still. “You think I’m trying to sleep with you so I can get a place to stay?”

He gave her a look. Her hand was still on the button to his jeans, for god’s sake. “Aren’t you?”

She shoved herself off him and grabbed her bag.

Nick caught her arm. “Hey,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I’ll help you because I’m your friend.”

Friend. It was the wrong thing to say, and he knew it instantly. She was still poised to shove the truck door open, but she looked at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were so striking, even bluer than his were. “Why don’t you want to sleep with me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Right now? Because we’re in a parking lot.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I mean, why don’t you want to sleep with me ever?”

Nick drew back and let go of her arm. He gave her his easy smile. “Maybe I’m a gentleman.”

Quinn didn’t smile back. “I know I’m not as hot as the girls you usually date, Nick.” She paused. “Are you just taking a break or something? Using me as a filler girlfriend so you have time to let the chafing heal?”

“Wow.” He dragged the word into three syllables.