“Quinn. I was not—”

“Maybe you weren’t sleeping with them, but you were using them just the same.” At his fierce look, she gave him one right back. “They might not have known the truth about you, but it doesn’t make it any different.”

“I wasn’t using them.”

“Yes. You were.”

Yes. He was. Nick looked at the rock in his hands, then shoved it into line with the others.

“It’s not going to go away, Nick!” cried Quinn. “If you don’t want to pretend with me, that’s fine. But it’s not fair to pretend with anyone else, either.”

She was right. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

“What are you thinking?” said Quinn. “That you’ll break up with me and find some new skank who’ll keep your cover more effectively?”

“Stop it.”

“Fine. Go ahead. I’ll go find my own ride.” She stood and stormed toward the road.

Nick caught her before she could get too far. Quinn had a history of making poor decisions. Ending up unconscious on the beach with a few drunken bikers was only the most recent. She was lucky he’d found her before anything else could happen.

“Stop,” he said. “Stop.”

He expected to find her expression distraught, but instead she looked challenging. “Why are you stopping me?”

“Because you’re my friend.”

“You’re mine, too.” She reached up to give the brim of his hat a yank. “Have you ever thought about just . . . telling your brothers?”

He sighed and looked away. He thought about it all the time. Then he’d remember the thousand-and-one locker room gay jokes he’d heard from his twin. He’d remember Gabriel’s swift and brutal judgment of anything new. Gabriel knew how to cut right to the quick, and this felt so fragile and untested that Nick was afraid to bare skin in the face of that blade.

Then there was Michael, overworked and overwrought, who’d said last week that he couldn’t handle one more complication in their lives. Nick did the bookkeeping for their landscaping business—they could practically reach out and touch their bottom line.

That left Chris, brooding and distant, who might be okay with it—or he might not.

They couldn’t afford discord right now.

“Things at home—they’re complicated . . .” he started. Then he caught her eyes. His things at home had nothing on hers. “I don’t want to rock the boat,” he finally said.

“What about Hunter?” she said. “Are you guys still sharing a room?”

“Yeah, until we figure out a new sleeping arrangement. And seriously, you think I should start with my roommate, who, gee, happens to be my twin brother’s best friend? You’re right, Quinn. That’s a great idea.” He left her and went back to the path. At least slinging flagstone gave him a way to work off frustration.