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And maybe, somewhere deep down inside, she really wanted to see if she could do this.
She looked back at Adam. “All right. Let’s work it out.”
They sketched out a routine, modifying his original piece to incorporate a partner, putting together some moves that she could work on alone.
The whole time, Nick sat without complaint, even when she asked if he needed to go. He’d shrugged and said he was enjoying the music. She’d had other guys come to the studio before, but they usually sighed and started shuffling around after a half hour.
Nick watched. It was both flattering and unnerving.
They danced until her muscles ached and the director was walking around, turning off lights and threatening to lock them inside.
Then they were walking outside, stepping into the cold night air, their breath just starting to fog.
Yes, she was definitely regretting the little booty shorts. Quinn shivered.
Nick had keys in his hand, and he hit the clicker. The lights on his brother’s red work truck flashed. “Get in,” he said. “I’ll put the heat on.”
Oh, wow. She had to grab the handle over the door to even get into this thing.
Adam was standing there, watching her.
No. He was watching Nick. Nick, who was pointedly not looking back at him.
“So, tomorrow morning?” said Adam.
“Sure,” she said, even though he wasn’t even looking at her. “Nine?”
“You coming, too?” he said to Nick.
Nick shrugged and looked at the sky. “Can’t. I told my brother I’d help with a job.”
“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.
