She was tempted to curl against him and let him stroke her hair or whisper assurances or whatever he was so good at. She didn’t move. “Forget it. It’s fine.”

He sighed, then swore under his breath. When they came to a red light, she could feel his eyes on her.

“Please don’t do this,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. “You’re the only friend I can talk to. If I’ve fucked something up, just tell me.” He paused. “I know you’re not talking to Becca. What happened?”

“How do you know that?”

“She asked me about you.”

“Oh, she remembers me now? That’s awfully sweet of her.”

“She’s concerned about you. When you said you were all right last night, I thought you were at her place.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“Where were you? Did you go home?”

“No, I was waiting out my mom. I was dancing on the trail by the woods.” Part of her didn’t want to talk about this, about any of it. Another part of her wanted to throw everything in Nick’s face.

God, this sucked. He was too good looking, too nice. Throw supernatural powers in the mix, and it was like fate was playing a cruel joke on her. Maybe next he’d tell her he had a winning lottery ticket in the glove box.

“You were dancing on the trail? Where?” said Nick.

“Where you picked me up the other night.”

Nick blew a loud rush of air through his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. “For god’s sake, Quinn, are you insane?”

“Probably. Some punk tried to steal my iPod.”

“You’re lucky that’s all that happened. Tyler lives near there. He could have—”

“Tyler stopped him.”

Nick’s jaw tightened. The truck instantly went ten degrees colder. Quinn shivered.

“Stop it,” she snapped. “I’m already freezing.”

He turned the vent to high, but it didn’t help much. “What do you mean, Tyler stopped him?”

It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized this was what she wanted. Fury in his voice. A hint of anger and jealousy and protectiveness. “The kid who stole my iPod. Tyler stopped him before he could take off with it. Then he bought me taquitos and we drank sodas on the roof of his strip mall.”

She flung the words at Nick like an attack. She didn’t know what she expected from him. A reaction, for sure. But silence captured the interior of the truck cab, thick and hard to breathe. His disapproval hung in the air, pressing against her skin.

“Please tell me you’re kidding,” he finally said.

“I’m not kidding. It was fine. He was nice.”

“He is not nice, Quinn.”

“Maybe not to you, but he was nice to me.”