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Nick mentally smacked himself. He needed to turn his brain off.
But he couldn’t shake the uncertainty, so he stepped through the sliding door onto Adam’s back patio. The air was just this side of too cool, but Nick didn’t mind the bite against his skin.
The rear of Adam’s apartment building faced a drainage pond surrounded by a split rail fence, backed by a row of pine trees. A fine mist clung to the grass, hanging over the pond and offering an ethereal quality to the morning. A road ran along the other side of those trees, but it must have been too early for much traffic.
Nick dropped onto the edge of the concrete porch, putting his feet in the grass. Dew grabbed his feet immediately. He inhaled, letting the air draw threads of power to make the fog drift and sway.
And of course, memories snuck up to sucker-punch him.
Gabriel standing in front of the café, fierce and terrifying, his eyes dark and his hands in fists. You don’t have to hold him.
Nick will stay down.
Such a contrast to what had happened before: Gabriel’s eyes, tense and worried when Nick woke up in the woods. Come on, Nicky. You’re scaring me.
Or two weeks ago, when Nick had found his twin crouched in the woods behind the house, dry-heaving against a tree and clutching a broken hand. Gabriel had thought his abilities had started a fire. He’d worried he’d killed his girlfriend. He’d been desperate and broken and sobbing, unable to carry the weight of his secrets any longer.
Nick had brought him into the house and cleaned him up.
And this was how Gabriel acted in return. With mockery.
And anger.
And violence.
Nick expected to feel fury, or maybe sadness. All he felt was the gaping cold emptiness of resignation.
Because really, wasn’t this what he’d expected all along?
He knew he couldn’t stay here forever, but he wasn’t exactly sure how he could go home, either. What if Gabriel apologized?
Could Nick forgive him? Would he believe him?
What if he didn’t apologize? That seemed more likely. And Nick was supposed to live with that? Sleep in the same house with someone who’d gone from love to hate in less time than it would take him to change clothes?
Nick rubbed at his eyes. He folded his arms across his knees and rested his forehead against them, breathing in the power the air offered.
You’re safe here.
The door slid open. Maybe the air simply reacted to Nick’s emotion, but the atmosphere practically cheered when Adam stepped onto the patio.
Yay, Adam!
Nick couldn’t keep the smile off his face, so he didn’t turn around. He peeked over his shoulder. “Hey.”
Adam dropped onto the concrete beside him, close enough that Nick could feel the warmth from his body—but far enough that they weren’t touching.
“Hey, yourself,” said Adam. “Thanks for starting coffee.”
He held out a mug.
Nick took it, wrapping his hands around the ceramic. He suddenly felt shy, but somehow more self-assured at the same time. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Yes, you were very loud sitting out here with your feet in the grass. You do realize I have chairs . . . ?”
Nick nodded. “I know.” Adam’s legs stretched out in the grass, too, one hand holding his own mug of coffee, the other resting on his thigh.
Nick hesitated. Then he reached out, threaded their fingers together, and lifted their joined hands to kiss Adam’s knuckles.
