And he was a master at keeping them hidden.

It had to do with his family; she knew that much. She never saw him with his brothers, but talking about them was just about the only thing to turn his voice sharp. No matter how much she loved his company, she couldn’t help wondering if he was spending time with her so he could avoid spending time with them. Even in the mornings, he stretched the minutes as long as possible, until she knew he must be practically sprinting home to make it to school in time.

She reached up and pushed the hair out of his eyes. He turned his head to kiss her wrist.

Layne had to remind herself to focus. “What’s it like, having a twin?”

He closed his eyes and gave a tight sigh. “I never know how to answer that question.” He paused. “I mean, what’s it like not having one?”

“Come on,” she teased, trying to lighten his mood. “Do you finish each other’s sentences? Feel each other’s pain?”

He snorted, obviously not playing. “No.”

“Are you and Nick still not speaking?”

He shrugged a little.

She could feel him distancing himself again. “Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

Now his eyes turned hard. “Why do you care?”

She matched his tone. “Why shouldn’t I care?”

He was going to fire back; she could tell. She braced herself for words sparked with anger.

But then he just sighed and rolled back to the ground to lie beside her. “I’m not even sure where to start. He brought Quinn home for dinner, and I just . . . I picked a fight. I’m not even sure why.”

“Did you like her?”

“No, no, nothing like that. But we hardly ever fight, and this one—it got out of control. I almost . . . it could have been bad. Mike and Chris broke it up. Hunter, too.”

There was more—a lot more. She could hear it behind the words.

“What else?” she said.

He was staring at the sky now, almost directly into the sun. It had to be hurting his eyes, but he wasn’t even squinting. “It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

He scowled, and she thought he wasn’t going to say anything else. But then he turned his head to look at her. “I wish I could undo it, but . . . I can’t. They don’t understand. Nick especially. I mean, he’s the perfect one. Never in trouble, covering my ass when I screw up—which is all the damn time.” He turned back to the sun. “You know, he got hurt right after homecoming? My fault. I couldn’t even help him. He doesn’t blame me, but I just . . . I just . . .”

“You blame yourself.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re mad at him for not blaming you.”

Now she had his attention. “Yeah. How do you know that?”