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His twin was watching him. “You sure, Nicky?”
“Yeah.” His phone chimed. Nick glanced at it.
An unknown number, with an address. Then a second text.
You want me to go with you to get her?
Nick stared at that line a minute longer than he needed to.
Then he glanced up at Gabriel. “Don’t worry. Quinn’s friend is going to help.”
The air in the truck cab stung Nick’s cheeks and turned his breath to fog.
He needed to chill the hell out.
Adam was sitting in the passenger seat, his hands over the vents. “Cold tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for driving.”
Nick shrugged and found his mouth didn’t want to form words. He reached over and kicked up the heat a few more notches.
“Hey,” Adam said softly.
Nick almost didn’t want to glance over.
But Adam continued. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Earlier. You know.”
Nick wasn’t sure what the safe answer to that was. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it stand up in tufts the way Gabriel’s had back in the kitchen.
What had Quinn said? Identical on the outside, polar opposites on the inside.
“It’s cool.” Even his voice sounded strangled.
But Adam took that at face value, turning his head to look out at the night. They drove in complete silence until Nick realized he was going to have to turn on the radio or talk.
Music didn’t seem like a good idea.
“Do you think she’s all right?” Nick said. “Did that guy seem—”
Adam didn’t look away from the window. His voice was resigned. “He said she’d been ranting about some guy named Nick all night, and then she drank half a bottle of tequila and passed out in the sand. He said my number was the first one in her contacts.”
Shit.
Adam glanced over. “You two have a fight?”
There was absolutely no way Nick could break it down, right here and now. So he just shrugged noncommittally.
Adam bristled. “Look, if you have a problem with me—”
“I don’t.” They came to a stop light, and Nick looked at him. The street lights shined through the windshield and caught the caramel highlights in Adam’s skin, painting embers in his hair.
Nick rubbed his eyes and looked back at the road. “I don’t have a problem with you at all.” He paused. “Quinn and I—we had a misunderstanding. I was trying to help her, but she slammed the door in my face.”
“How long have you been seeing each other?”
“Couple weeks.”
