Then the emcee called his number and their music began.

Once the beat caught her, Quinn felt like her world exploded into color. She knew this routine; her muscles had memorized each leap, each turn, each step, but today everything felt new and fresh, as if the music and the crowd added power to their dance.

Adam’s hands were strong, catching her perfectly each time, and she matched his height, leap for leap. For the first time, she appreciated the power in her body, reveled in the muscles and the curves and the lines. When Adam did the complicated twist where she went airborne before twirling into his arms, the crowd whooped and whistled. When the music and drums reached a crescendo and he spun her so fast she thought she’d take flight, Adam caught her in midair, right on the beat, and froze.

Silence, for a second. Then the auditorium erupted in ap-plause.

The center judge leaned into her microphone and said,

“Thank you.”

Adam set her on her feet and kissed her on her cheek. “You were amazing.”

The judge leaned forward again and spoke into the mic. “Excuse me. Miss. One moment, please. Young lady.”

Adam grabbed her arm. “Quinn. She means you.”

Quinn stared out into the lights. “Yes?”

“Please be sure to have your number on for the solo portion.”

“Oh! I’m not—I’m not—”

“Here it is!” called a male voice from the edge of the stage. A white sticker was in his hand, and he was holding it up to her.

“You left it with me, baby girl.”

“Tyler,” she whispered. What had he—what—

“Please clear the stage for the next participants,” the judge said.

Adam grabbed her hand and dragged her down the steps.

And sure enough, Tyler was standing there, his hair and eyes glinting from the stage lights. Quinn stared up at him, completely at a loss for what to say.

Tyler snorted and dragged her away from Adam, into the darkness of the side aisle. “You with no words,” he whispered.

“There’s a first.” He peeled the backing off the adhesive number.

“How did you—what did you—”

“Well,” he said, moving close, pressing the number over her abdomen, letting his fingers linger along her waist. “Remember when you said you weren’t the type to have a spare hundred dollars lying around?”

She wet her lips. “Yeah.”

“Well, maybe I am.”

“You signed me up.”

“Someone had to.” He leaned in, finding her face with his hands, coming close enough to share breath. “And this, I’ll let you kiss me for.”

“This, I don’t mind kissing you—”

“Shut up,” he said.

Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.

CHAPTER 36

Nick leaned against his back porch railing, holding Adam’s hand, keeping him close. A few boxes of pizza and salad were open on the picnic table and candles were lit everywhere.

It had been a hastily thrown together celebration party.

One full-time scholarship for Adam.

One evening-school scholarship for Quinn.

It was late, and everyone was tired, so conversation was dying and couples were pairing off.

Adam leaned close, until Nick could feel his breath on his neck. “Your family has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I know. I love them for it.” And he did. But this was still new, and fresh, and he was worried that the instant he let go of Adam’s hand, it would all unravel. “Honestly, I don’t know if it’s more surreal that you’re on the deck, or that Tyler is.”

Tyler had kept himself at a distance, as if he felt as uncertain about being here in the open as Nick did.

But he treated Quinn with a gentleness that Nick hadn’t expected. So when Tyler met Nick’s eye and gave him a nod, Nick nodded back.

Again, surreal. And not nice, exactly, but . . . okay. Better.

Nick shifted closer to Adam, inhaling his scent, grateful for quiet company and a peaceful evening.

“Is everything okay with your brother?” Adam asked.

Nick nodded. “I think so.” He paused, then smiled. “He offered to make out with Hunter if it would prove that he’s okay with me being g*y.”

“Hmm,” said Adam. “Yeah. I think I need to see proof.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell him it has to be shirtless. Wait, let me get my phone out—”

Nick shut him up with a kiss.

A good kiss. A slow kiss. A long one, because they were in the shadows—but really, he didn’t care who caught a glimpse.

But then someone did see them, because a wolf whistle split the night. Then another, and Nick broke away, blushing fiercely.

“Okay, okay,” he said.

“Not just okay,” Adam whispered, his lips close to Nick’s ear.

“Great, good, fine.”

Nick turned his head to pick up where they’d left off. But then something brushed his senses, and the candles suddenly blazed hotter.

He straightened, moving to the middle of the porch with his brothers, their eyes searching the darkness for the threat.

They didn’t have to look far. Calla Dean came walking out of the woods, pink and blond hair glinting in the firelight.

“Hello, Merricks,” she called, smiling broadly. “I hear you’re starting a war.”

No one moved.

She stopped in the grass, looking up at the porch.