Then Adam broke the eye contact and called his class to order, dismissing them for the night.

Nick let go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He’d left a sweaty handprint along the spine of his physics book.

“Try not to do that while I’m dancing, okay?” said Quinn. Before he could answer, she was climbing down from the risers, stripping out of her sweatshirt, pushing through the crowd of parents fighting for the exit.

Adam had disappeared into the hallway, too.

Damn.

Nick flung the textbook open on the bench and told himself to get excited about mass and acceleration and inclined planes. The room emptied, and when Quinn flicked on the stereo to start warming up, Nick tried to convince himself he would’ve been better off staying in the car.

His brain wasn’t convinced. He didn’t move.

The air told him when Adam walked into the room. Nick ignored the swirl in the currents, the minute temperature change as his element reacted to his tension.

Study.

He tried. He read the same equation sixteen times. It could have been written in crayon by a dyslexic toddler for all the sense it made.

Adam walked over to the risers.

Nick’s eyes froze on his textbook. Now he couldn’t remember what subject he was studying.

Adam put his hand on one of the wooden benches and leapt to the upper level.

Nick had forgotten how he moved, like a jungle cat crossed with an acrobat. Powerful yet agile. Instead of sitting beside him, Adam sat cross-legged on the riser in front of him.

It left Nick looking down at him. The position was casual and nonthreatening.

And kind of hot.

Nick told his eyes to stay on his frigging notebook, but they found Adam’s feet, following the line of his calves to his knees and thighs and—

Up. Up. Look up, before you get yourself in trouble.

Nick looked at his face. The darkness of Adam’s eyes, the barely-there start of shadow across his jaw. The crooked scar that dragged his lip away from perfection.

Nick flashed on what it had felt like to kiss him. He jerked his gaze back to his book. “Hey.”

Hey. Wow. Suave. Maybe Quinn should be videotaping this.

“What are you studying?” said Adam, his voice gently teasing, almost provocative. It made him sound like he wasn’t talking about studying at all.

If it had been a girl, Nick could have flirted back. You, he would have said.

Say it. Say it, say it, say it.

“Physics,” he said instead.

Ugh. Suddenly he felt like such a dork. Next he’d say he needed to get home to his bug collection.

He cleared his throat. “I enjoyed your class.”

“Thanks. They’re good kids.” Adam paused. “Did you come to watch Quinn?”

No, I came to watch you.