Chapters (46)
- Tyler was gasping, coughing, his hands on the pavement.
- Title Page
- Table of Contents
- Dedication
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- PROLOGUE
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- BEYOND THE STORY
- AFTERWORD
- SECRET PLAYLIST
- Copyright Page
Yeah, she wasn’t convincing herself. “I’m not the type to have a spare hundred bucks lying around, either.”
Tyler winced. “Sorry.”
She shrugged and scowled out at the night. “My whole life is full of almosts. I almost made it on the dance team, until the bitch teacher wanted to get rid of me because of my attitude and my body type. I almost made it as a cheerleader, but they all called me Crisco and acted like I was white trash. I almost had a great—”
She cut herself off. She’d almost said, I almost had a great boyfriend, but then I caught Nick kissing another guy.
“Almost what?” said Tyler.
Quinn shook her head, surprised to feel tears hiding somewhere behind her eyes. “Nothing. What I want always seems just out of reach, you know?”
Tyler sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes I know exactly what you mean.”
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 10
Nick’s morning classes crawled by. He could barely stay awake for Dr. Cutter’s physics lecture. He’d come home late again, dragged himself into bed, and replayed his evening with Adam. Their walk. Their studying.
Adam’s secrets.
After learning about that, everything had felt somewhat raw, as if a scab had been scraped off too early. He’d felt the need to proceed slowly, to let trust grow in the space between them. So he’d come in when Adam invited him, but he’d sat on the couch and sipped coffee and talked, keeping his hands to himself.
Nick had been worried that some of his infatuation was because Adam was the first boy he had kissed, the first outlet for years of repressed attraction.
But Adam was smart. He read everything, from genre fiction to biographies to The Economist to a weekly sex advice column. He could talk about all of it. Nick might have had him beat in chemistry, but Adam had him by a mile in subjective analysis. He’d never met someone who would genuinely care about his opinion—but then expect him to defend it.
Nick loved it. He loved it so much it’d been hard to leave.
But then he’d leaned in to kiss Adam good night, and he’d seen the flash of vulnerability, reminding him to tread carefully.
That first night, his time with Adam had been like riding a runaway train, having no idea of the destination, just hurtling into the darkness while clinging for dear life. Exciting and terrifying.
Now it felt like someone had pressed a map into his hands and explained how to ease off the throttle.
“Earth to Nicholas. Come in, Mr. Merrick.”
Crap. Dr. Cutter was glaring at him. What were they talking about? Diagrams covered every inch of whiteboard, but Nick hadn’t even cracked his textbook. His notebook was open, but he hadn’t written anything down.
Nick cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. What?”