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He couldn’t possibly be jealous of Tyler. Right?
But why else would he be pissed off? Had Quinn said something? What?
Nick hated that this dickhead was sitting here putting thoughts in his head.
Part of him wanted to leave. He could sit outside, or even take the bus back to Adam’s. Hell, he could take the bus home if he needed to—Adam had explained the line and given him a bus schedule, telling him which spot would drop him off closest to Chautauga if he really needed to help his brothers with a job.
But he’d finally broken and called home before coming here, hoping he’d get someone other than Gabriel.
By luck—or his twin’s calculated avoidance, he wasn’t sure which—Michael had answered the phone. Chris had agreed to work for Nick today. Hunter had already been planning on going with Becca to visit her father. Gabriel would be home alone with a pile of textbooks.
Pretty much a guarantee that Nick wouldn’t be getting on a bus anytime soon.
Then again, sitting next to Tyler was quite possibly the only thing worse than facing his twin again.
Tyler shifted closer. “No wonder you could never fight back.
I didn’t realize Gabriel Merrick had a twin sister—”
“Shut up,” Nick said.
“Or what? You’ll huff and you’ll puff and you’ll blow this place down? Or do you only know how to blow—”
“Shut up.” Nick glared at him and didn’t bother keeping his voice down. “Fuck you, Tyler. You might have Quinn fooled, but I know what you’ve done. Michael might give you a free pass because you lost your sister and he feels some shred of re-sponsibility for it, but—”
o;Are you kidding?” He glanced over. “I’m planning on staying.”
“Come on,” she said. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not like you’re getting any action from m—”
Tyler put a hand over her mouth. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. I told you before: I thought your dance was pretty good, from what I saw on the trail. I’d like to see it all put together.”
“Come on. You want to spend a few hours at a dance studio?”
“It’s been a dream of mine.” He glanced over and offered a wicked smile. “All right, brutal honesty: I brought my laptop. I have a paper due in history.”
The dance studio parking lot didn’t sport many cars; no surprise on a Saturday afternoon. This was Quinn’s favorite time to dance: when the sunlight would be warm through the windows, and energy from the morning classes would still cling to the air in the room, and she’d move as if a thousand dancers accompa-nied her.
Her home life seemed miles away. Right where she wanted it.
At the door she stopped and faced Tyler. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome.”
She pressed her lips together for a second. “No,” she said.
“All of it. Thanks for all of it.”
He winced and looked away. “Not all of it.” He paused and let his eyes find hers. “I’m sorry for some of it. For a lot of it.”
The sunlight glinted off his hair. Tall and blond and strong—
he looked like the proverbial white knight. All he needed was a suit of armor.
She kept her voice low, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“You’re special, too, Tyler. And brave. And definitely not worthless.”
His eyes widened fractionally, enough that Quinn knew she’d affected him.
