Chris was silent for a moment, and Nick could imagine him standing there, choosing his words carefully.
Nick couldn’t handle the silence. “Say something, Chris,” he said, more sharply than he intended. “You’ve obviously figured it out. So say what you want to say.”
Adam had stopped whatever he was doing in the kitchen, and was now watching Nick from across the apartment.
You okay? he mouthed.
Nick nodded.
And Chris was still silent.
“Forget it,” said Nick bitterly. “Just tell Michael where I am and that I’m okay.”
“Wait,” said Chris.
Nick waited.
Chris took a breath. “I’m sorry you thought you had to keep this a secret.”
The words hit with every bit as much impact as Gabriel’s had—but these didn’t hurt. In fact, they seemed to absorb some of the earlier blow. Nick didn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay,” Chris added. “I mean—with me. You’re my brother, and—I want you to be happy, all right?”
Nick drew a shaky breath. He was nodding until he realized that was ridiculous and Chris couldn’t see him. “All right.”
“Seriously. You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to Gabriel? Didn’t you go out together?”
Nick drew a hand down his face. “I don’t really want to talk about it. I only wanted to make sure someone knew where I was.”
Chris didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ll tell Michael.”
“Thanks.” Nick paused. “Hey. How did you know?”
“I didn’t know for sure. But that day in the cafeteria. When Gabriel was giving you shit about the text message.” Chris hesitated. “When you left, you were crying.”
Damn. “Did anyone else see?”
“No one saw. I felt it.” Another pause. “It’s okay, though. I didn’t say anything.”
He felt it. The tears.
Nick almost smiled. “You’re a good little brother.”
“Nah, you caught me on a good day.”
Now Nick did smile. “I’m glad you were home.” He looked up and saw Adam standing by the stove. It looked like he was stirring something. Nick inhaled chocolate and cinnamon. “I should go.”
“Okay.” He paused. “I’m here all night if you need to call back.”
If Gabriel’s actions had shredded his heart, Chris was doing wonders to stitch it back together. “Thanks, Chris.”
“No problem. I love you, brother.” And before Nick could say anything to that, Chris hung up.
Nick stared at the phone, touched and bemused. Then he walked out to join Adam in the kitchen.
He hesitated at the juncture between carpet and linoleum.
This felt like the first night they’d come here, when he wasn’t sure what Adam expected. They’d apologized, and Adam had invited him here, but did that mean everything was fine?
Adam glanced back over his shoulder, but he didn’t stop stirring whatever was in the saucepan on the stove. “Everything okay?”
Nick wanted to touch him, to feel some contact that wasn’t full of violence and anger. “Yeah. What are you making?”
“Hot chocolate with Nutella.”
“It smells amazing.”
“It’s my guilty pleasure. My mom used to make it when I had a bad day.” He tossed another glance over his shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone at the studio. I’m supposed to live on lettuce and carrot sticks.”
“You’re worse than Quinn.” But now his eyes were on Adam’s body, the breadth of his shoulders, the slow movement of his arms as he stirred the pot. The way dark hair curled at the nape of his neck. The softness of his skin, the hardness of the muscles underneath.
Touch him. Touch him. Touch him.
“I doubt that,” said Adam. “Hey, can you pull down some mugs?”
Nick couldn’t even remember what they were talking about.
But Adam’s request broke the spell and spurred him into motion. He found the mugs on the second guess, reaching to pull them down from the highest shelf.
When Adam’s hands came around him from behind, he gasped and almost dropped both mugs.
Adam laughed and slid his hands up Nick’s chest, moving close until they were almost pressed together. He kissed the back of Nick’s neck, breathing along the skin there. “You were making me crazy, standing there like that.”
He was making Nick crazy, standing there like that. When Adam’s hand slid under his shirt, tracing the skin below his rib cage, Nick shivered.
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” Nick admitted.
Adam froze. The mood in the air changed.
Then his hand tightened on Nick’s waist roughly, jerking him close. Very close. “Any question now?”
Nick blushed so hard he was glad he was looking away. He shook his head.
Adam let him go abruptly and took the mugs out of his hands, slamming them onto the counter beside the stove. Any playful banter was gone from his voice. “I think that’s part of the problem,” he said, killing the heat on the stove. “You’re so damn worried about what everyone else wants. Well, you know what, Nick? You’re going to disappoint people sometimes. You just are. And you know what else? They’re either going to get over it or they’re not. If they don’t, it sucks. But it’s not going to kill them, and it’s sure not going to kill you.” He poured the hot chocolate into the mugs, then slammed the saucepan back onto a cool burner. “In fact, if you ask me, Gabriel is long overdue for some disappointment.”
Nick couldn’t handle the silence. “Say something, Chris,” he said, more sharply than he intended. “You’ve obviously figured it out. So say what you want to say.”
Adam had stopped whatever he was doing in the kitchen, and was now watching Nick from across the apartment.
You okay? he mouthed.
Nick nodded.
And Chris was still silent.
“Forget it,” said Nick bitterly. “Just tell Michael where I am and that I’m okay.”
“Wait,” said Chris.
Nick waited.
Chris took a breath. “I’m sorry you thought you had to keep this a secret.”
The words hit with every bit as much impact as Gabriel’s had—but these didn’t hurt. In fact, they seemed to absorb some of the earlier blow. Nick didn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay,” Chris added. “I mean—with me. You’re my brother, and—I want you to be happy, all right?”
Nick drew a shaky breath. He was nodding until he realized that was ridiculous and Chris couldn’t see him. “All right.”
“Seriously. You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to Gabriel? Didn’t you go out together?”
Nick drew a hand down his face. “I don’t really want to talk about it. I only wanted to make sure someone knew where I was.”
Chris didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ll tell Michael.”
“Thanks.” Nick paused. “Hey. How did you know?”
“I didn’t know for sure. But that day in the cafeteria. When Gabriel was giving you shit about the text message.” Chris hesitated. “When you left, you were crying.”
Damn. “Did anyone else see?”
“No one saw. I felt it.” Another pause. “It’s okay, though. I didn’t say anything.”
He felt it. The tears.
Nick almost smiled. “You’re a good little brother.”
“Nah, you caught me on a good day.”
Now Nick did smile. “I’m glad you were home.” He looked up and saw Adam standing by the stove. It looked like he was stirring something. Nick inhaled chocolate and cinnamon. “I should go.”
“Okay.” He paused. “I’m here all night if you need to call back.”
If Gabriel’s actions had shredded his heart, Chris was doing wonders to stitch it back together. “Thanks, Chris.”
“No problem. I love you, brother.” And before Nick could say anything to that, Chris hung up.
Nick stared at the phone, touched and bemused. Then he walked out to join Adam in the kitchen.
He hesitated at the juncture between carpet and linoleum.
This felt like the first night they’d come here, when he wasn’t sure what Adam expected. They’d apologized, and Adam had invited him here, but did that mean everything was fine?
Adam glanced back over his shoulder, but he didn’t stop stirring whatever was in the saucepan on the stove. “Everything okay?”
Nick wanted to touch him, to feel some contact that wasn’t full of violence and anger. “Yeah. What are you making?”
“Hot chocolate with Nutella.”
“It smells amazing.”
“It’s my guilty pleasure. My mom used to make it when I had a bad day.” He tossed another glance over his shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone at the studio. I’m supposed to live on lettuce and carrot sticks.”
“You’re worse than Quinn.” But now his eyes were on Adam’s body, the breadth of his shoulders, the slow movement of his arms as he stirred the pot. The way dark hair curled at the nape of his neck. The softness of his skin, the hardness of the muscles underneath.
Touch him. Touch him. Touch him.
“I doubt that,” said Adam. “Hey, can you pull down some mugs?”
Nick couldn’t even remember what they were talking about.
But Adam’s request broke the spell and spurred him into motion. He found the mugs on the second guess, reaching to pull them down from the highest shelf.
When Adam’s hands came around him from behind, he gasped and almost dropped both mugs.
Adam laughed and slid his hands up Nick’s chest, moving close until they were almost pressed together. He kissed the back of Nick’s neck, breathing along the skin there. “You were making me crazy, standing there like that.”
He was making Nick crazy, standing there like that. When Adam’s hand slid under his shirt, tracing the skin below his rib cage, Nick shivered.
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” Nick admitted.
Adam froze. The mood in the air changed.
Then his hand tightened on Nick’s waist roughly, jerking him close. Very close. “Any question now?”
Nick blushed so hard he was glad he was looking away. He shook his head.
Adam let him go abruptly and took the mugs out of his hands, slamming them onto the counter beside the stove. Any playful banter was gone from his voice. “I think that’s part of the problem,” he said, killing the heat on the stove. “You’re so damn worried about what everyone else wants. Well, you know what, Nick? You’re going to disappoint people sometimes. You just are. And you know what else? They’re either going to get over it or they’re not. If they don’t, it sucks. But it’s not going to kill them, and it’s sure not going to kill you.” He poured the hot chocolate into the mugs, then slammed the saucepan back onto a cool burner. “In fact, if you ask me, Gabriel is long overdue for some disappointment.”
