Nick’s mouth went dry. “Yeah—a few. I just—” I just have their sealed responses hidden in a drawer. “I haven’t heard back.”

“University of Maryland has a program that allows a few select students to take college level science and math classes for the spring semester. It’s by teacher recommendation only. It’s an opportunity to get a jump start on an already competitive program.”

Nick stared at him, unsure where this was going.

“I’d like to recommend you. But I also need to know you’re focused.”

Reassure him. Say you’re focused. Or thank you. Say thank you.

But he couldn’t say anything. A jump start? He was terrified of the prospect of leaving his brothers to start college next fall, and this guy wanted to accelerate that by nine months.

Dr. Cutter grabbed a cardigan off the back of his desk chair and shivered. “It certainly got chilly in here. Do you have any thoughts?”

Nick grabbed his bag and stood up. “I need to think about it.” He bolted for the door.

“Nick!”

The instinct to obey authority overrode his desire to get the hell out of the classroom. Nick stopped in the doorway, but he didn’t turn all the way around.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” said Dr. Cutter,

“but make sure it doesn’t damage your chances at a future.”

His voice wasn’t unkind, and Nick swallowed.

Then Dr. Cutter added, “I want to make sure I recommend the right student for this opportunity. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly. Thank you.”

He should have been excited.

He wasn’t.

At lunch, he sat with his brothers and their girlfriends, but Hunter and Quinn didn’t show up. He didn’t care what his roommate was up to, but he did care about Quinn. Nick sent her a quick text.

She responded almost immediately.

I’m getting study help for US History. I’ll see you later. Can you give me a ride to the studio tonight?

The studio. Adam .

He mentally calculated. He was supposed to help Michael on Wednesdays, but they’d be done by seven-ish.

Sure. 7:45?

“What’s eating you?” said Chris.

“Nothing,” said Nick. He set the phone next to his tray and drove his fork into the cafeteria meat loaf.

Becca leaned in against the table. “Is Quinn okay?” she asked quietly. “She’s really upset about the Elemental stuff.”

She hadn’t said anything to Nick, but he knew Quinn didn’t want Becca to know how rough her home life had turned. And maybe she was still smarting from the secrets Becca had kept.

Nick didn’t necessarily agree with either course of action, but Quinn wasn’t exactly giving him all the details, either. He nodded. “I’ll talk to her. I’m taking her to dance tonight.”

Gabriel snorted. “Wow, playing chauffeur. Sounds like true love to me.”

His girlfriend Layne hit him. “Leave him alone.”

“Will you tell her I’m worried about her?” said Becca. “I don’t—I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Nick gave her a reassuring look. “I’ll tell her.”

His phone chimed while he was shoveling a bite of meat loaf into his mouth. Nick reached for it.

But then Gabriel said, “Who’s Adam? And why is he asking if he’s going to see you tonight?”

Nick choked on his food.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

His heart beat so quickly that he could swear all the blood rushed away from his head just to keep up with it. For a horri-fying moment he wondered if he’d pass out from panic.

He needed to say something. He needed to say something now before they started guessing.

They were all staring at him. Because they suspected something?

No, moron, because you’re choking on meat loaf.

Did Gabriel sound suspicious? Why would he be suspicious?

What did he think?

“Quinn’s dance partner,” Nick said quickly, wheezing a little.

He needed to calm down, but his brain wouldn’t let him stop talking. “He’s auditioning for a scholarship, and she’s helping him.”

“Why is he asking if he’ll see you?”

“I don’t know.” Nick shoved the phone in his pocket. “I guess he’s wondering if Quinn has a ride.”

That was probably sufficient, but he couldn’t look at any of them, couldn’t meet their eyes to see if they’d already guessed his secrets. They hadn’t, right? Or had they? He was going to need to look up.

If he’d been telling the truth, it would have felt like enough, and he wouldn’t have felt compelled to keep going. But he was lying through his teeth, and he needed to make sure there was no question of his non-relationship with Adam.

“He’s g*y,” he heard himself saying. “Quinn said he has a crush on me. She thought it would be funny to give him my cell number.”

What the f**k was wrong with him? Did he really say that?

“That’s not funny,” said Layne. She looked vaguely disgusted.

“It’s not like that,” said Nick quickly. His shirt felt like it was sticking to the back of his neck. “He knows I’m not. It’s like—

it’s a joke now.”

God, he needed to shut up.

“It’s creepy,” said Gabriel.

Nick froze. “Creepy?”

“A dude hitting on you? Yes. Creepy.”

Suddenly he wanted to punch his twin.

Do not pick a fight over this.

Do not.

Do. Not.

“He’s not hitting on me,” Nick said tightly. “He just asked if I’d be there tonight.”

“No, he asked if he’d see you, which is creepy.”

“Knock it off,” said Becca. “He’s Quinn’s friend. Nick’s trying to defend him, and you’re being a royal—”

Chris wrapped an arm around her neck and put his hand over her mouth. “I love you, but please don’t pick a fight I’m going to have to finish.”

“Oh, I’ll finish it,” Becca said through his fingers.

“No, I’ll finish it,” Nick snapped. He stood, grabbing his tray so roughly that he almost dropped half his food on Chris.

“An ass**le,” he said to Gabriel. His throat felt tight, and it hurt to talk. “You’re being a royal ass**le.”

Then he stormed away from the table and slammed the tray onto one of the waiting carts.

“Hey, Nicky,” Gabriel called after him, “remember what I said about drama?”

Fuck him. Nick slammed through the double doors leading out of the cafeteria, choking on emotion. He pinched his fingers over his eyes.

He wished he could take it all back. Adam had trusted him with a terrible secret, and now Nick had crapped all over it.

Making what they’d shared into a joke.

He wanted to storm back into that cafeteria and shake some sense into his brother.

He wanted to call Adam and apologize.

He wanted to stop hearing the derision in his brother’s voice.

The way he’d said creepy.

Most of all, he wanted to stop crying.

Creepy. Creepy creepy creepy.

Like he was some kind of pervert. He’d known his twin’s rejection would hurt, but he hadn’t realized it would hurt like this, a subtle stabbing a hundred times over.

Nick ducked into the restroom. Empty. Finally, a break. He went into a stall anyway. He swiped at his eyes and dug his phone out of his pocket.

There was Adam’s message.

Will I see you tonight?

Nick squeezed his eyes shut and had to swipe at them again.

Then he typed back.

We’ll be there at 8.

Adam’s response appeared almost immediately.

Can’t wait.

Then a second later, another message appeared.

U OK?

Nick sniffed. He started to type back, Yeah, fine, but they’d found this path of honesty, and he didn’t want to veer into the unknown.

Gabriel said g*y guys are creepy.

As soon as he hit SEND, he felt ridiculous. He might as well have typed, My brother is a big meanie. Wah.

But his phone buzzed almost immediately.

You told him???

Oh, shit. No. Nick shook his head, like an idiot.

No. Said in passing.

The phone didn’t buzz with a new message. But the end-of-lunch bell rang. Nick sniffed again and got himself together. He spent a minute splashing cold water on his face, until some freshman guys came through the door.

His phone buzzed before he made it into his next class.

You are not creepy. You are great good fine. And brilliant and patient and gentle and kind.

Jesus, he was going to start crying again.

Before he could, the phone buzzed.

And frankly, you’re kind of hot. Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you last night?

Nick laughed before he could help it.

He took a seat and hid the phone under his desk, then slid his fingers across the screen.

You, too, for what it’s worth. And thank you.

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

NP. Been there. See you tonight. Don’t be late this time. ;-P

Nick wouldn’t be.

CHAPTER 11

Quinn stumbled into the truck and flung her bag on the floor between her feet. She could barely feel her toes, but somehow she was supposed to spend the next two hours dancing.

Her hands slapped over the vents. “Can you turn the heat up?”

Nick obliged her, reaching over and turning the dial all the way to the right. “You okay?”

Her fingers hurt from the cold, and she flexed them a few times. “Yeah. I’ve just been outside for a while.”

He reached over and took her hands, pressing them between his. He brought them to his lips and blew warm air along her fingers. “You should have texted me. What happened?”

Quinn looked up at him over their clasped hands. His face was close, his blue eyes gentle and intent on hers. His clothes were different from what he’d worn to school, and he looked like he’d shaved again, too.

He looked amazing.

A flicker of regret hit her between the eyes. This was so unfair.

She pulled her hands away. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You’re late.”

“I’m not. It’s seven forty. Did something happen?”

“My brother had his stupid pothead friends over.” Quinn grabbed the seat belt and jerked it across her chest. “I had to get out of there.”

She’d been lucky to get her dance clothes without being groped. Then her mom had gotten in her face and demanded to know where she’d been last night.

Why, Mom? Were you conscious?

At the stop sign at the end of her lot, Nick turned to look at her. “You could have called me. I would have come to get you.”

“You were working.” She sounded petulant and she didn’t care. She knew he would have come to get her, because that’s what perfect boyfriends did. “Did you dress up for Adam?”

He gestured down at his clothes. “I wouldn’t call this dress-ing up.”

She would. Dark-washed jeans and a forest-green pullover that clung to the muscles of his chest. He’d probably told his brothers he was getting ready for a date with her.

Quinn looked out the window. She didn’t know what was wrong with her tonight. This felt like jealousy, but that was insane. It had been her idea to keep pretend dating in the first place!

“Are you mad at me?” Nick sounded puzzled. Almost hurt.

“No, Nick. I’m not mad.”

He put an arm out. “Come here. What’s wrong?”

She was tempted to curl against him and let him stroke her hair or whisper assurances or whatever he was so good at. She didn’t move. “Forget it. It’s fine.”