Then again, they weren’t talking about anything serious. He’d had more personal discussions with the cafeteria ladies.

Nick flexed his fingers on the steering wheel again and wished he’d brought Gabriel along instead.

No. He didn’t.

“I’m not going to jump you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Adam said, a shred of humor in his voice—but a shred of sadness hid there, too. “I promise, I have some self-control.”

“I’m not worried about it.”

“You look like a strong guy. You could probably fight me off.”

Nick cut him a withering glance, but his brain was all too willing to suggest images of what Adam was suggesting.

Stop it, stop it, stop it.

If the thought of college was enough to drive a wedge between him and his brothers, thoughts like these would hammer it home. He’d been fighting with this for years, and here one drive in the truck was about to undo him.

Nick drew a ragged breath. He wished for some traffic or something to steal his attention, but the highway was mostly deserted this late at night. He wished for different thoughts. Silence swelled in the cab of the truck again, taunting Nick to look at his passenger.

He didn’t. But he had to talk or he was going to make himself crazy. So he picked up the earlier conversations. “I think my younger brother—Chris—is waiting to see what happens if I leave. He might be thinking about college, too, but he won’t say anything until he’s sure about it.”

“The cautious type.”

Nick smiled. “Gabriel and I call him the brooding type.”

“Gabriel. Number three?”

That killed the smile. “Yeah. My twin brother. He says he doesn’t care if I go away to school, but I know he does.”

“Identical twin?”

“Yeah.”

“Niiiiice.”

Nick cut him another look, and Adam smiled. “Sorry.”

A street sign announced the park entrance, and Nick hit the turn signal. The gates were closed and padlocked, so he parked on the side of the road. He’d been here before with his brothers, dozens of times. He could find the path to the beach blindfolded. Good thing, too, since there were no lights overhead.

Wind was coming in from the water, just this side of too cold. Nick didn’t mind the sharpness against his cheeks, knowing his element would steal the warmth left over from his conversation with Adam. He asked the air for information, trying to determine if there was any sense of danger here.

But the wind only seemed willing to carry the scents of the night: the richness of the pine trees lining the road, the heavy scent of the distant sea, and whatever cologne Adam was wearing, something musky and warm, like oranges and cloves. Somehow it was stronger out here than it had been in the truck, and once his brain identified it, Nick wanted to get closer, to bask in the scent and bury his face in it.

No girl had ever affected him this strongly.

No guy had, either, but this was the first time he’d been alone with a boy he felt attracted to, and it was like his senses were trying to latch on to the opportunity.

A boy who thought Nick felt threatened by his presence.

Nick wondered what would have happened if he’d lost the defensive looks in the truck. If he’d sat in the cab for two minutes. If he’d—

Quinn, he thought. Focus on Quinn.

Right. His girlfriend. Who needed rescuing—both from boys and herself, apparently.

She wasn’t far. The wind brought him the scent of a campfire, and he followed that. Adam followed him, silent but very present.

And there was Quinn, passed out on a fleece blanket between two guys. She was still fully clothed, but tension hovered in the air, making Nick pause to size up the situation. Big guys. Drunk guys who stopped laughing when they caught sight of Nick and Adam.

Now Nick regretted not bringing Gabriel.

Wuss.

“Thanks for the call,” said Adam, his voice easy, as if they hadn’t walked into a tense situation. “We can take Quinn home.”

The one guy, the darker haired one, sneered. “We didn’t call for a couple of fags.”

Nick froze. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard the word around school—usually as a joke in the locker room—but it hit him very differently when it was directed at him. When he’d been walking along having . . . thoughts.

Adam didn’t hesitate, he just walked over and started picking Quinn up. “I’m sure Quinn didn’t, either, but apparently you two showed up.”

Both men were on their feet. The dark-haired one went after Adam.

Nick was quick. He caught the guy’s arm, but he didn’t fight him. “Hey.” Wind whipped around him, responding to his emotion. But he was used to placating his twin, and he kept his voice easy. “Chill out. We’re just here to take her home.”

The guy swung around and punched him in the face.

Nick hit the sand before he realized he was falling.

Damn, it hurt. It hurt about a bazillion times more than when Quinn had done the same thing. He hadn’t even been expecting it. At least when he tried to stop his twin from fighting, Gabriel listened.

Nick found his footing in the sand. Now he was pissed, and the air enjoyed that, pulling sand into tiny tornadoes at his feet. The wind turned ice cold, coming off the water like it was blowing from a glacier.

The other guy, the one with lighter hair, had grabbed his friend. Adam had Quinn, and he looked like he was wrestling with whether to put her down and help. He’d moved back, toward their motorcycles and the tree line.