Breathless
Page 4
“Not the way you mean,” Quinn said. “He’s not a dancer. Adam, this is Nick.”
Adam. The name fit him like a chord strummed on a guitar.
Nick couldn’t stop staring at him.
But Adam didn’t seem to notice. He just ducked his head through the shoulder strap and dropped his bag by the mirror. It should have been a throwaway motion, but instead there was a lyrical quality to his movement, like music flowed in his head. “I thought you might have been working on lifts,” he said.
“Nah,” said Nick. “Just a reality check.”
Quinn elbowed him in the ribs. “What are you working on?”
Adam pulled an iPod and a little player with speakers out of his bag. “An audition piece. There’s an opening at the dance school downtown.”
Quinn clapped. “Can we watch?”
Adam glanced at Nick. “I don’t want to bore your friend.”
“I wouldn’t be bored,” Nick said quickly. Then he checked himself. What was with the sudden enthusiasm? He shrugged. “I watch Quinn all the time.”
A slow smile found Adam’s mouth. “Sure, then. Find a place to sit.”
Nick sat against the wall at the back of the studio, and Quinn sat beside him, a good six inches of space between them. She pulled her sweatshirt into her lap and ripped the cap off a bottle of water. Nick had initially expected her to be one of those clingy girls who wanted to drape on his shoulder—but she never did.
Another reason he liked her.
Adam hit a button on the iPod, and music swelled through the small studio. Nick knew the song, one of those new lyrical R&B collaborations. The rhythm pulsed through his body and caught his heartbeat, the way music always did. It probably had something to do with the way sound waves traveled through the air—it always felt like he could hear with his whole body.
But the air liked Adam, too, liked the way he leaped across the floor and defied gravity, each movement timed perfectly with the beat.
Nick had never wanted to be a dancer, but right now, he felt a flash of envy. And admiration. And—and something—
“What do you think?” Quinn whispered.
“He’s good. Great. The dance. It’s great.” God, what was wrong with him? He rubbed at the back of his neck and pretended to stare at the floor. “It’s fine.”
“He’s super talented. He’s been trying to get in that school for two years, but he needs a scholarship.”
Nick heard longing in her voice and turned to look at her. “Do you wish you could go there?”
She kept her eyes on Adam and shrugged one shoulder. “I could never get in.”
“Have you tried?”
Quinn cut angry eyes his way. “I’d need a scholarship, too, Nick, and they’re not exactly writing checks to everyone who walks through the door.”
He’d grown up countering his brothers’ anger—and Quinn had nothing on that. He didn’t look away. “Have you tried?”
She sat there glaring at him, and Nick just looked back.
The music cut off suddenly, and they both jerked to attention.
Adam was fiddling with the music player. “It’s driving me crazy,” he said, almost to himself. “It’s missing something, but I can’t figure out what.”
“A partner,” said Nick without thinking.
Adam’s hands went still on the iPod, and he looked over.
Nick shrugged a little, wondering at what point his brain had decided to disengage from his mouth. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud.”
Adam smiled again, that slow smile that pulled a little crooked because of the scar. His dark eyes shined in the overhead lights, and his voice was just a touch suggestive. “You volunteering?”
The breath rushed out of Nick’s chest.
Shit. Now he was blushing.
If Gabriel were here, there would be no end to the mockery.
Well, that shut it down, whatever it was. Flustered, Nick shoved Quinn in the shoulder. “No,” he growled. “Quinn is.”
“What?” said Quinn, sounding like she wondered when Nick had lost his mind. “I’m not good enough to dance with him.”
“Sure you are,” said Adam. He walked across the studio and stuck out a hand to Quinn.
But his eyes were on Nick. Nick wasn’t even looking at him, but he could feel it.
He just wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it.
Nick nodded at the floor, then looked at Quinn. “Stop doubting yourself. Give it a try.”
She let Adam pull her to her feet, and Nick was glad they were moving away. Adam’s presence left him doubly off balance somehow, like trying to walk a narrow beam during an earthquake.
Adam and Quinn were talking now, going through the choreography or the music or whatever. Nick had no idea. His brain could barely process the conversation.
No, his thoughts kept replaying the moment two minutes ago.
You volunteering?
He wasn’t offended. He wasn’t shocked. He was—
Nick shut that thought down before it could finish. His life was already complicated enough. He and his brothers were marked for death. They were ostracized by the Elemental community. Nick knew exactly what was expected of him: good grades, hard work, and the occasional girlfriend. He knew how to handle all three, could do it blindfolded.
But that stray thought had weaseled its way into the back of his head, lodging there so firmly that he couldn’t ignore it.
For the tiniest fraction of a second, when Adam had looked down at him, asking about volunteering, Nick had wondered what would have happened if he’d said yes.
Adam. The name fit him like a chord strummed on a guitar.
Nick couldn’t stop staring at him.
But Adam didn’t seem to notice. He just ducked his head through the shoulder strap and dropped his bag by the mirror. It should have been a throwaway motion, but instead there was a lyrical quality to his movement, like music flowed in his head. “I thought you might have been working on lifts,” he said.
“Nah,” said Nick. “Just a reality check.”
Quinn elbowed him in the ribs. “What are you working on?”
Adam pulled an iPod and a little player with speakers out of his bag. “An audition piece. There’s an opening at the dance school downtown.”
Quinn clapped. “Can we watch?”
Adam glanced at Nick. “I don’t want to bore your friend.”
“I wouldn’t be bored,” Nick said quickly. Then he checked himself. What was with the sudden enthusiasm? He shrugged. “I watch Quinn all the time.”
A slow smile found Adam’s mouth. “Sure, then. Find a place to sit.”
Nick sat against the wall at the back of the studio, and Quinn sat beside him, a good six inches of space between them. She pulled her sweatshirt into her lap and ripped the cap off a bottle of water. Nick had initially expected her to be one of those clingy girls who wanted to drape on his shoulder—but she never did.
Another reason he liked her.
Adam hit a button on the iPod, and music swelled through the small studio. Nick knew the song, one of those new lyrical R&B collaborations. The rhythm pulsed through his body and caught his heartbeat, the way music always did. It probably had something to do with the way sound waves traveled through the air—it always felt like he could hear with his whole body.
But the air liked Adam, too, liked the way he leaped across the floor and defied gravity, each movement timed perfectly with the beat.
Nick had never wanted to be a dancer, but right now, he felt a flash of envy. And admiration. And—and something—
“What do you think?” Quinn whispered.
“He’s good. Great. The dance. It’s great.” God, what was wrong with him? He rubbed at the back of his neck and pretended to stare at the floor. “It’s fine.”
“He’s super talented. He’s been trying to get in that school for two years, but he needs a scholarship.”
Nick heard longing in her voice and turned to look at her. “Do you wish you could go there?”
She kept her eyes on Adam and shrugged one shoulder. “I could never get in.”
“Have you tried?”
Quinn cut angry eyes his way. “I’d need a scholarship, too, Nick, and they’re not exactly writing checks to everyone who walks through the door.”
He’d grown up countering his brothers’ anger—and Quinn had nothing on that. He didn’t look away. “Have you tried?”
She sat there glaring at him, and Nick just looked back.
The music cut off suddenly, and they both jerked to attention.
Adam was fiddling with the music player. “It’s driving me crazy,” he said, almost to himself. “It’s missing something, but I can’t figure out what.”
“A partner,” said Nick without thinking.
Adam’s hands went still on the iPod, and he looked over.
Nick shrugged a little, wondering at what point his brain had decided to disengage from his mouth. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud.”
Adam smiled again, that slow smile that pulled a little crooked because of the scar. His dark eyes shined in the overhead lights, and his voice was just a touch suggestive. “You volunteering?”
The breath rushed out of Nick’s chest.
Shit. Now he was blushing.
If Gabriel were here, there would be no end to the mockery.
Well, that shut it down, whatever it was. Flustered, Nick shoved Quinn in the shoulder. “No,” he growled. “Quinn is.”
“What?” said Quinn, sounding like she wondered when Nick had lost his mind. “I’m not good enough to dance with him.”
“Sure you are,” said Adam. He walked across the studio and stuck out a hand to Quinn.
But his eyes were on Nick. Nick wasn’t even looking at him, but he could feel it.
He just wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it.
Nick nodded at the floor, then looked at Quinn. “Stop doubting yourself. Give it a try.”
She let Adam pull her to her feet, and Nick was glad they were moving away. Adam’s presence left him doubly off balance somehow, like trying to walk a narrow beam during an earthquake.
Adam and Quinn were talking now, going through the choreography or the music or whatever. Nick had no idea. His brain could barely process the conversation.
No, his thoughts kept replaying the moment two minutes ago.
You volunteering?
He wasn’t offended. He wasn’t shocked. He was—
Nick shut that thought down before it could finish. His life was already complicated enough. He and his brothers were marked for death. They were ostracized by the Elemental community. Nick knew exactly what was expected of him: good grades, hard work, and the occasional girlfriend. He knew how to handle all three, could do it blindfolded.
But that stray thought had weaseled its way into the back of his head, lodging there so firmly that he couldn’t ignore it.
For the tiniest fraction of a second, when Adam had looked down at him, asking about volunteering, Nick had wondered what would have happened if he’d said yes.
