Nick wondered if some of that was for Adam’s own benefit, too.

Knowing what he knew, Nick never pushed, either. It left them tangled in a careful dance of caresses and stronger touches.

He hadn’t wanted to leave.

Michael was studying him. “Gabriel said you and Quinn seem to be getting pretty close.”

Great. Nick dropped into the armchair and wondered how much he could say without incriminating himself. What else had Gabriel said? Did Michael already suspect something?

“She’s going through a lot,” he offered, keeping his eyes on the end table. “At home. You know.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Yes. He did. Emotions wrapped around his neck and jerked tight, and he wanted to tell Michael everything. About Quinn. About Tyler.

But if he talked about them, he’d have to talk about Adam.

For an instant, he hated Quinn for putting him in this position. Then he hated himself for putting her in this position.

This sucked.

He met his older brother’s eyes. “Not really.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “She’ll be all right.”

Like Michael would leave it at that.

His brother inhaled—a loaded breath. Nick braced himself for an interrogation.

Why’d you get all jumpy when Gabriel said gay guys are creepy? Are you gay, Nick? Of course it’s creepy. God, and we’ve been living under the same roof. Jesus, what would Mom and Dad say? Maybe you should sleep in the basement.

But Michael didn’t say any of that. “I need to ask you a favor.”

Nick coughed. He needed to turn his brain off. “What?”

“I feel bad asking, because I know you worked two extra nights this week—”

“It’s fine. What is it?”

His tone was rougher than usual, and Michael looked a bit unsettled. “Tomorrow is Hannah’s birthday. Her parents are taking her out to dinner, and they asked if I’d like to join them.”

Nick went still. So this had nothing to do with him at all. “What’s the favor?”

At this point, he’d do pretty much anything if it took the focus off of him. Paint a replica of Van Gogh’s Starry Night on the ceiling? Sure, Mike. Let me get my brush.

“You can say no if you want,” said Michael.

Now all the uncomfortable small talk made sense. Nick’s subconscious let out a sigh. “Why don’t you get around to what it is before I start saying no?”

“Would you babysit?”

“You mean for James?”

“No, Hannah’s other five-year-old. Yeah, I mean James.”

“Do I have to go there?”

“No, she can bring him over here.”

Nick smiled. “Okay.”

Michael’s eyebrows went up. “Really? I was worried you’d have plans. Everyone else does.”