Secret
Page 85
“Are you kidding?” He glanced over. “I’m planning on staying.”
“Come on,” she said. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not like you’re getting any action from m—”
Tyler put a hand over her mouth. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. I told you before: I thought your dance was pretty good, from what I saw on the trail. I’d like to see it all put together.”
“Come on. You want to spend a few hours at a dance studio?”
“It’s been a dream of mine.” He glanced over and offered a wicked smile. “All right, brutal honesty: I brought my laptop. I have a paper due in history.”
The dance studio parking lot didn’t sport many cars; no surprise on a Saturday afternoon. This was Quinn’s favorite time to dance: when the sunlight would be warm through the windows, and energy from the morning classes would still cling to the air in the room, and she’d move as if a thousand dancers accompa-nied her.
Her home life seemed miles away. Right where she wanted it.
At the door she stopped and faced Tyler. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome.”
She pressed her lips together for a second. “No,” she said.
“All of it. Thanks for all of it.”
He winced and looked away. “Not all of it.” He paused and let his eyes find hers. “I’m sorry for some of it. For a lot of it.”
The sunlight glinted off his hair. Tall and blond and strong—
he looked like the proverbial white knight. All he needed was a suit of armor.
She kept her voice low, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“You’re special, too, Tyler. And brave. And definitely not worthless.”
His eyes widened fractionally, enough that Quinn knew she’d affected him.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll keep all that a secret.”
He rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle.
Then they were through the door and face to face with Nick Merrick.
Quinn sat on the polished wood floor, stretching beside the mirror, watching Adam to follow his warm-up. They didn’t have the studio to themselves yet, so they’d have to wait to use the main area of floor. She didn’t mind the extra time—two days off had left her muscles tight. She folded low, reaching for her ankle, catching sight of Nick and Tyler in the mirror. They sat across the room on the wood risers, a good six feet apart, not speaking.
Waves of hatred radiated from them both.
When they’d first walked in, Nick had told Tyler to leave.
Tyler had told Nick to go to hell.
Adam had told them both to grow up or get out. He’d done it in the same voice she’d heard him use on the six-year-olds when they got rowdy in the beginner class. Half teasing, half serious.
Nick had backed off and found a spot on the risers. He hadn’t looked happy about it then, and he looked downright furious now.
But to her surprise, Tyler had apologized to Adam, shaking his hand before finding his own place to sit and watch.
Adam switched legs and Quinn snapped back to the task at hand. She moved to mirror his motion.
“How long do you think we have before they kill each other?” Adam said under his breath.
His voice was easy, casual. She was glad—a small part of her had worried that he’d hold her recent no-shows against her.
“Nick hates him,” Quinn said. She hadn’t realized Nick would be here at all or she would’ve told Tyler to go elsewhere.
She felt like she was straddling this ravine between taking joy in Nick’s discomfort and hating that she’d caused it.
“I can see that.” Adam paused. “He was really worried that you were dating him.”
“We’re not—” She faltered. Were she and Tyler dating? Were they friends? “I don’t know what we’re doing.”
Adam put the soles of his feet together and folded low. “Is he being good to you?”
True concern was behind those words, another reminder that Quinn had spent too much time pushing away people who could have helped her. She nodded, thinking of Tyler’s whispered comments all morning. Then she gave Adam a wicked smile. “Is Nick being good to you?”
Adam blushed. For real.
Quinn grinned and realized there might be a reason behind Nick’s being here. “Holy crap. Did you guys spend the night together?”
“Shh!” Adam reached out and smacked her on the top of the head.
“Did you?!”
He turned it right back around on her. “Did you spend the night with Tyler?”
“Yeah, in his guest room.” She hesitated, thinking of how Tyler’s evening had gone. “He’s being a gentleman. And he didn’t have the greatest night.”
“Neither did Nick. He came out to his brother and got punched in the face.”
Quinn sat up straight. She glanced at Nick and lost every ounce of vindictive joy. Now she wanted to kill his twin brother.
“Gabriel hit him?” she whispered. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. He didn’t want to go home.”
Quinn couldn’t blame him. “I wish I’d known,” she said. “I wish he’d called me.”
Then the irony of her own words smacked her in the face.
Nick would probably be saying the same thing about her problems, if he knew.
“Come on,” she said. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not like you’re getting any action from m—”
Tyler put a hand over her mouth. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. I told you before: I thought your dance was pretty good, from what I saw on the trail. I’d like to see it all put together.”
“Come on. You want to spend a few hours at a dance studio?”
“It’s been a dream of mine.” He glanced over and offered a wicked smile. “All right, brutal honesty: I brought my laptop. I have a paper due in history.”
The dance studio parking lot didn’t sport many cars; no surprise on a Saturday afternoon. This was Quinn’s favorite time to dance: when the sunlight would be warm through the windows, and energy from the morning classes would still cling to the air in the room, and she’d move as if a thousand dancers accompa-nied her.
Her home life seemed miles away. Right where she wanted it.
At the door she stopped and faced Tyler. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome.”
She pressed her lips together for a second. “No,” she said.
“All of it. Thanks for all of it.”
He winced and looked away. “Not all of it.” He paused and let his eyes find hers. “I’m sorry for some of it. For a lot of it.”
The sunlight glinted off his hair. Tall and blond and strong—
he looked like the proverbial white knight. All he needed was a suit of armor.
She kept her voice low, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“You’re special, too, Tyler. And brave. And definitely not worthless.”
His eyes widened fractionally, enough that Quinn knew she’d affected him.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll keep all that a secret.”
He rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle.
Then they were through the door and face to face with Nick Merrick.
Quinn sat on the polished wood floor, stretching beside the mirror, watching Adam to follow his warm-up. They didn’t have the studio to themselves yet, so they’d have to wait to use the main area of floor. She didn’t mind the extra time—two days off had left her muscles tight. She folded low, reaching for her ankle, catching sight of Nick and Tyler in the mirror. They sat across the room on the wood risers, a good six feet apart, not speaking.
Waves of hatred radiated from them both.
When they’d first walked in, Nick had told Tyler to leave.
Tyler had told Nick to go to hell.
Adam had told them both to grow up or get out. He’d done it in the same voice she’d heard him use on the six-year-olds when they got rowdy in the beginner class. Half teasing, half serious.
Nick had backed off and found a spot on the risers. He hadn’t looked happy about it then, and he looked downright furious now.
But to her surprise, Tyler had apologized to Adam, shaking his hand before finding his own place to sit and watch.
Adam switched legs and Quinn snapped back to the task at hand. She moved to mirror his motion.
“How long do you think we have before they kill each other?” Adam said under his breath.
His voice was easy, casual. She was glad—a small part of her had worried that he’d hold her recent no-shows against her.
“Nick hates him,” Quinn said. She hadn’t realized Nick would be here at all or she would’ve told Tyler to go elsewhere.
She felt like she was straddling this ravine between taking joy in Nick’s discomfort and hating that she’d caused it.
“I can see that.” Adam paused. “He was really worried that you were dating him.”
“We’re not—” She faltered. Were she and Tyler dating? Were they friends? “I don’t know what we’re doing.”
Adam put the soles of his feet together and folded low. “Is he being good to you?”
True concern was behind those words, another reminder that Quinn had spent too much time pushing away people who could have helped her. She nodded, thinking of Tyler’s whispered comments all morning. Then she gave Adam a wicked smile. “Is Nick being good to you?”
Adam blushed. For real.
Quinn grinned and realized there might be a reason behind Nick’s being here. “Holy crap. Did you guys spend the night together?”
“Shh!” Adam reached out and smacked her on the top of the head.
“Did you?!”
He turned it right back around on her. “Did you spend the night with Tyler?”
“Yeah, in his guest room.” She hesitated, thinking of how Tyler’s evening had gone. “He’s being a gentleman. And he didn’t have the greatest night.”
“Neither did Nick. He came out to his brother and got punched in the face.”
Quinn sat up straight. She glanced at Nick and lost every ounce of vindictive joy. Now she wanted to kill his twin brother.
“Gabriel hit him?” she whispered. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. He didn’t want to go home.”
Quinn couldn’t blame him. “I wish I’d known,” she said. “I wish he’d called me.”
Then the irony of her own words smacked her in the face.
Nick would probably be saying the same thing about her problems, if he knew.
