“I know a lot about keeping secrets,” Hunter said. “And this one isn’t mine to tell. But I know it’s going to tear you up until you let it go.”

Nick knew that. This secret already was tearing him up.

A key pressed into the front door, and Nick jumped. He knew—knew—it was his twin brother. He quickly wiped his eyes on his sleeve and took a quick gulp of coffee. He’d run for his room, but he’d never make it up the stairs before Gabriel came in the house.

With a quick flash of fury, he wanted to tell him. He wanted to fling the truth in Gabriel’s face. He wanted to pick a fight, to let this rage and fear and pain pour into something.

Then Gabriel was in the foyer and Nick couldn’t breathe.

Gabriel took one look at them and shook his head before pushing between them to head upstairs. He smacked Hunter on the back of the head. “Leave my brother alone, jackass. He’s already got enough freaks pining after him.”

It was a miracle Nick didn’t shatter the mug between his hands.

Hunter didn’t move until Gabriel disappeared into the bathroom. Then he said softly, “Look, I get it. Why you don’t want to tell him.”

Nick had to put the mug down or he was going to spill coffee everywhere. “Really? You sure? He’s so subtle.”

“He doesn’t understand—”

“No, but I do. He thinks gay guys are creepy freaks. Got it.” Nick didn’t want to stay here. He was almost shaking with rage. He couldn’t imagine sleeping under the same roof as his brother.

But he had nowhere to go.

Hunter took a breath. “He doesn’t think you are a creepy freak, Nick. I think you should give him a chance.”

“Fuck him. He doesn’t deserve a chance.”

“Wow.” Hunter pushed the hair back from his face. “All right. Your secret, your call.” He stood.

“Hey,” Nick said, losing some of the rage. “Thanks. It—it means a lot.”

“No problem.” Hunter paused and leaned against the bannister. “You’re wrong, by the way.”

“I’m wrong?”

“I’m not his best friend, Nick. You are.”

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 20

Quinn studied herself in Tyler’s bathroom mirror. Steam clouded the glass, but she could make out her face, her neck, and the edge of the towel wrapped around her body. A shadowed bruise remained across her cheek, but the swelling was gone, along with her headache.

She was glad for the lingering bruise. She didn’t want to forget her mother’s voice or the way she’d swung that trophy.

Or the things she’d said.

Whore. You ruin everything.