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“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
“Are you mad?”
He shook his head. “I’m not mad, Quinn.” But he kind of was, and he couldn’t put it all together. He paused and touched her face again. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to keep doing this.”
She caught his hand and held it there. “It’s my fault.”
He frowned. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”
“Sometimes I wish you weren’t . . .” Her voice dropped even further, and her eyes flicked toward the end of the room where Hunter slept. “You know.”
“I know.” Truth was, sometimes he wished that, too.
“Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?”
Nick shook his head and kissed her on the forehead. “No. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
She took him at his word. She snuggled back into him, and after a few minutes, her breathing told him she was asleep.
It wouldn’t come so easily to Nick.
Sucks being the girl, doesn’t it?
But he wasn’t a girl. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to play one. Slowly, carefully, so as not to wake her or Hunter, he slid the phone off his nightstand and unlocked the screen.
Did he want to do this? What message would he send?
Then his message icon lit up.
Adam. Words appeared on the screen.
You free tomorrow? Have class til 8 but free after.
Nick’s heart skipped ahead of him, dancing in circles. But he’d already blown off physics tonight, and he had a paper due in two days.
He probably shouldn’t seem too eager, either.
God, he couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation with himself. He typed back quickly.
Have to study.
As soon as he pressed SEND, he wanted to punch the phone.
He had to study? Seriously? What the hell was wrong with him?
He so couldn’t play this from the other side. How would Adam read that? As rejection? More likely, that Nick was the biggest nerd to walk the earth. The phone silently mocked him, not offering any further messages.
Then, just as he was about to set it on his side table, the display lit again.
Study here?
Nick smiled.
You’re on.
CHAPTER 6
Nick rubbed at his eyes and told himself to focus. He was usually the first one to hand in a completed test, but more than half the class had walked their papers up to the front of the room. Even Gustav Asciak, the foreign exchange student who barely spoke a lick of English, had turned in his paper.
