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 g*y 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 be-come 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 ap-plause.

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.

CHAPTER 36

Nick leaned against his back porch railing, holding Adam’s hand, keeping him close. A few boxes of pizza and salad were open on the picnic table and candles were lit everywhere.

It had been a hastily thrown together celebration party.

One full-time scholarship for Adam.

One evening-school scholarship for Quinn.

It was late, and everyone was tired, so conversation was dying and couples were pairing off.

Adam leaned close, until Nick could feel his breath on his neck. “Your family has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I know. I love them for it.” And he did. But this was still new, and fresh, and he was worried that the instant he let go of Adam’s hand, it would all unravel. “Honestly, I don’t know if it’s more surreal that you’re on the deck, or that Tyler is.”

Tyler had kept himself at a distance, as if he felt as uncertain about being here in the open as Nick did.

But he treated Quinn with a gentleness that Nick hadn’t expected. So when Tyler met Nick’s eye and gave him a nod, Nick nodded back.

Again, surreal. And not nice, exactly, but . . . okay. Better.

Nick shifted closer to Adam, inhaling his scent, grateful for quiet company and a peaceful evening.

“Is everything okay with your brother?” Adam asked.

Nick nodded. “I think so.” He paused, then smiled. “He offered to make out with Hunter if it would prove that he’s okay with me being g*y.”

“Hmm,” said Adam. “Yeah. I think I need to see proof.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell him it has to be shirtless. Wait, let me get my phone out—”

Nick shut him up with a kiss.

A good kiss. A slow kiss. A long one, because they were in the shadows—but really, he didn’t care who caught a glimpse.

But then someone did see them, because a wolf whistle split the night. Then another, and Nick broke away, blushing fiercely.

“Okay, okay,” he said.

“Not just okay,” Adam whispered, his lips close to Nick’s ear.

“Great, good, fine.”

Nick turned his head to pick up where they’d left off. But then something brushed his senses, and the candles suddenly blazed hotter.

He straightened, moving to the middle of the porch with his brothers, their eyes searching the darkness for the threat.

They didn’t have to look far. Calla Dean came walking out of the woods, pink and blond hair glinting in the firelight.

“Hello, Merricks,” she called, smiling broadly. “I hear you’re starting a war.”

No one moved.

She stopped in the grass, looking up at the porch.

“Guess what,” she said, losing the smile. “I want in.”