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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?”
