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would have supported him, even—he had no idea how his father would have reacted. Michael had gotten into it with their father more than once, but never over something like this.
Nick stroked a hand across Adam’s face. “Do they ever come to watch you dance?”
“Nah. Not really anymore. Honestly, I think my dad secretly hopes I’ll outgrow it one day.”
“I think your dad should take a second look at how lucky he is.”
Adam laughed, but not like it was funny. “You know, if I wanted to do pretty much anything else with my life, I wouldn’t need a scholarship. If I called him up and said I wanted to be an accountant, he’d be drafting a check to the college of my choice.”
Nick thought of all those college letters sitting in his desk at home and felt a flash of guilt. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Adam almost gave him a smile. “It’ll mean more if I do it myself.” He pressed his face into the curve of Nick’s neck again. “Your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Tell me something uncomfortable about your family.”
“I’m pretty sure you witnessed something uncomfortable last night.” Nick paused, tracing a finger along the stretch of Adam’s forearm.
“Tell me something good then. Tell me something good about your brother.”
The words summoned too many memories. Nick couldn’t sort through them all. Setting fires on the beach, Gabriel using his power to send the flames coursing high into the air, Nick leeching oxygen from the atmosphere to help him maintain control. Hiding from Michael after putting spiders in his bed or peanut butter in his backpack or paint in his shampoo bottle.
Gabriel knowing every single time Nick was worried or hurting or just plain needed him.
“We used to trade places all the time. He loves sports, and I . . .
well, I really looked for any reason to stay the hell out of a locker room, so he pretended to be me so he could play more sports. The school limits you to two, so . . .” Nick shrugged.
“Hmm. And what did you do while you were pretending to be him?”
Nick snorted. “His math homework.” As soon as he said it, he realized Adam was going to misunderstand. “Not like you think.
When our parents died, he couldn’t keep up. I started doing it to help him, just so he wouldn’t be held back. It became . . . like . . .
a thing. He believed he couldn’t do it, and I wanted to do that for him. To be there for him. To—” He made a disgusted noise. “This is stupid.”
“No. It’s not.” Adam leaned into him again. “What does he do for you?”
“I don’t—it’s not—” Nick pressed his fingers into his eyes.
“Everything.”
He kept hearing Hunter’s words on the steps. I’m not his best friend, Nick. You are.
Nick realized he didn’t even know if his brother had made it home okay.
He hated that Gabriel had monumentally f**ked up, but he was still sitting here worried about him. “Can I use your phone again?”
Adam sat up and shifted to pull it out of his pocket. He held it out without a word.
Nick called the house phone. The line rang half a dozen times.
Maybe Gabriel had been hurt. Maybe they were all out looking for him. Nick remembered sensing someone in the woods near the house the other night—had he mentioned that to Michael? He couldn’t remember. He’d been stupid to go out of touch for so long. His world could be crumbling right this very second, while he was sitting on Adam’s back porch, completely out of reach.
Nick felt his heart pound against his rib cage, chastising him with each beat. He’d let his brother drive off in a fury. God only knew what he could have gotten into.
Tyler. Had Gabriel gone after Tyler? If something had happened, would Chris have thought to find Adam’s number on the caller ID last night?
