Quinn glanced over. He was driving the landscaping truck with one hand on the wheel, the other arm across the seat backs.

For one second, she regretted the whole gay thing and wished she could curl up against him, let his arm wrap around her shoulder and make her feel wanted.

Then she told that moment of longing to shove it.

“I was thinking about Becca,” she said.

“She and Chris seem to be getting pretty serious.” He seemed amused.

She snorted. “Like a heart attack.”

He was silent for a moment. “You guys aren’t hanging out much lately?”

Nick could always see right through her. Quinn shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m glad she’s happy.”

“And you sound so sincere about it.”

Quinn hit him on the arm. “No. I am. I just . . . miss her, you know? And I’m . . .”

Jealous. She was jealous.

But she couldn’t say that.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I shouldn’t have brought up Becca. She’s just spending all this time with Chris, and I get it, but she doesn’t talk to me anymore. I don’t think she’s hiding something, but it’s almost like she’s got this new life that I’m not a part of. If that makes any sense.”

Nick sighed. “Yeah, Quinn, it actually makes a lot of sense.” He hit the turn signal for their street. “Did you tell Becca about me?”

“Of course not! God, what kind of friend do you think I am?”

He held up a hand. “I’m just saying—maybe you both have secrets.”

“Maybe.”

He dropped his arm to give her half a hug—totally platonic, and nothing she really wanted. But she took the comfort all the same.

“You’re a good friend,” he said. “That’s the kind I think you are.”

Quinn straightened and studied him. Nick really was a looker—all dark hair and blue eyes and broad shoulders. Muscled arms from all the landscaping. Just enough freckles sprinkled across those high cheekbones to make him look boyish and charming.

Then again, his twin brother had those same freckles, and there was nothing boyish and charming about him.

“Actually,” Nick said slowly, “it’s probably time I should tell you another secret—” He broke off, his voice hardening to steel. “Damn it.”

Quinn followed his gaze. They were turning up his driveway, and a blond guy was making his way down the walk from their house. The guy looked pissed.

“Who’s that?” she said.

“Tyler Morgan. He’s an asshole.” Nick threw the truck into park and hesitated there, glaring at the guy as he walked toward them.

Tyler’s expression was full of fury. He said something, but Quinn couldn’t hear him over the diesel engine with the windows closed.

Then Nick killed the engine just as Tyler turned his gaze on Quinn.

“—with your stupid, white trash girlfriend,” he finished.