Quinn made a low sound and snuggled closer. “You really like him, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer. Honestly, he still didn’t know if he’d been relieved to get Quinn’s call, putting an end to the night, or disappointed that it had cut their time short. He felt so unprepared to be with a guy, like he only knew the choreography for one dance step, and this was a completely different type of music.

God, he couldn’t even fool himself. Disappointed. He’d been disappointed.

He’d never lost control like that before. His life was always about fulfilling expectations. Spending a few minutes acting on instinct—he’d never felt anything like it. He couldn’t wait to feel like that again.

Quinn lifted her head and looked up at him. “You do really like him. I know you do. I could tell the instant you saw him at the studio.”

“I’m glad I’m so transparent.”

“You’re not transparent. He’s just like that. Magnetic. Everyone likes Adam.”

Nick blew another line of breath along her arm, drawing the burn out, feeling the skin rebuild. Everyone likes Adam. Quinn’s voice had changed when she’d dropped the words.

Nick realigned what he’d learned from the evening, Adam’s gentle teasing, his easy comfort with who he was. They’d shared a moment. More than a moment—Nick had trusted him with the biggest secret of his life. You’re safe here.

With a start, he realized that Adam’s one-liners could have been the same kind of practiced words that Nick dropped on unsuspecting girls.

He’d rushed into this with his emotions exposed and bare. He’d fallen for Adam’s quiet confidence, his dedication to dance and school, and his singular focus on what he wanted. Nick had been all instinct and feeling and passion. Adam had been controlled. In control.

You’re going to break my heart. I can feel it.

God, repeating it to himself now, it felt like such a line.

“Yowch!” Quinn said, sitting up straight and yanking her arm away. “Holy crap, Nick!”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Here. I’ll be more careful.”

“No—actually—I think it’s fine.” She held her wrist out, running a finger along the smooth skin. “You’re amazing.”

“Amazing,” he echoed. “Yeah. Right.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Am I being an idiot, Quinn?”

He could feel her studying him in the darkness. “I think I need more information.”

“With Adam.”

She was quiet for a minute. He pulled up the driveway to his house and killed the engine. They couldn’t sit here too long, but they could never finish this conversation in the house, so he waited with the keys in his hand, his eyes on the darkened dash.