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 flinched.

Adam pulled a can of whipped cream out of the refrigerator and shook it like he meant it harm. “You can’t live your whole life waiting around to make sure people approve of the choices you make. That’s why you’ve got a drawer full of unopened college letters. That’s why you’ve got a house full of brothers who didn’t have a clue about what you wanted. That’s why—”

Nick shoved him up against the refrigerator and kissed him. Hard.

Adam’s breath caught, but he kissed him back, matching Nick’s intensity. The can of whipped cream hit the floor. Fingers tangled in Nick’s hair.

Nick caught his wrists and broke the kiss, pinning Adam against the refrigerator with hands and body. He could feel everything, but he wasn’t blushing now.

Adam’s eyes were heavy with desire, but maybe a little fear hid there, too. His breathing came fast, too fast.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Nick said, his voice low. Despite Adam’s lecture about doing what he wanted, there were real stakes here. He softened his hold on Adam’s wrists and backed off a bit, leaning in to kiss his cheek, the edge of his jaw, using his teeth to nip at the sensitive skin below his ear.

Adam’s breath shuddered. “I like it,” he whispered, so softly that Nick might not have heard him if not for the air carrying the sound to his ears.

Nick hesitated, the warm skin of Adam’s neck under his lips. “What was that?”

When he didn’t get an answer, he drew back.

The first night Adam brought him here, Nick had followed instincts and pressed Adam down on the couch. Adam had called a stop to it—for understandable reasons—but what had he said?

You’re strong. I’m not complaining.

Nick searched his face. He took a chance. He seized Adam’s wrist and dragged him. “Come on.”