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“So can I get your number then?”
Nick sucked in a breath, looking thrown, like Adam had socked him in the stomach.
Quinn stifled a giggle at his reaction. If Nick Merrick was into guys, half the female population at Old Mill would be sobbing. “Adam, he’s not g*y.”
For the first time all night, Adam lost the smile.
Nick ran a hand through his hair, looking completely unnerved. “Sorry, man—I just—”
“Nah.” Adam shook it off, and a shadow of his smile reappeared. “It’s cool. My bad.” He gave Quinn a wave and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nick was quiet when they headed out on the road.
“Sorry,” she said, trying to warm her hands by the vents. The truck cab was freezing, and the engine didn’t seem to want to blow warm air. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”
Nick’s voice was somewhat hollow. “It’s okay.”
“He’s not usually that bold. I can’t believe he asked for your number.”
Nick didn’t say anything. Quinn wondered if he really was pissed.
That made her frown. “It’s not catching, you know,” she said.
He glanced over, and his voice was mild. “Quinn, I’m not upset about it.”
She chewed on that for a minute and wondered whether to push or to leave it.
Before she could make a decision, Nick reached out and touched her cheek. “I think you sell yourself short. You’re an amazing dancer.”
His hand was warm, and she leaned into the contact. “Thanks heaps, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughed. “I guess. But I couldn’t see any great disparity between you and him.”
“Disparity. God, sometimes it’s a wonder you and Gabriel are twin brothers.”
Nick sobered. “Why?”
“You’re like a walking SAT prep book. I guarantee if you went home, Gabriel wouldn’t even know the meaning of the word. On the outside, you’re absolutely identical, but on the inside, it’s like you’re polar opposites.”
he air liked Adam, too, liked the way he leaped across the floor and defied gravity, each movement timed perfectly with the beat.
Nick had never wanted to be a dancer, but right now, he felt a flash of envy. And admiration. And—and something—
“What do you think?” Quinn whispered.
“He’s good. Great. The dance. It’s great.” God, what was wrong with him? He rubbed at the back of his neck and pretended to stare at the floor. “It’s fine.”
“He’s super talented. He’s been trying to get in that school for two years, but he needs a scholarship.”
Nick heard longing in her voice and turned to look at her. “Do you wish you could go there?”
She kept her eyes on Adam and shrugged one shoulder. “I could never get in.”
“Have you tried?”
Quinn cut angry eyes his way. “I’d need a scholarship, too, Nick, and they’re not exactly writing checks to everyone who walks through the door.”
He’d grown up countering his brothers’ anger—and Quinn had nothing on that. He didn’t look away. “Have you tried?”
