Nick looked at Adam’s hand on his wrist. “It won’t rain.”

The wind welcomed him into the outdoors, kicking up to swirl around him. He could feel rain on the air, but a distant promise, nothing they’d have to worry about for hours yet. He was glad for the chance to walk. With a destination and a task and his element feeding him power, his brain relaxed a little.

Until Adam said, “You were sitting in your car for a while.”

Wind rushed between darkened buildings to form tiny whirl-winds from the dead leaves along the sidewalk. Nick fed energy into the air, sending them spinning higher. Clouds blocked the starlight overhead, making their walk very dark between streetlamps. “I didn’t realize you’d be waiting for me.”

“I wasn’t. Not really.” Adam paused, and that hint of uncertain tension found his voice. “I figured I could use a walk either way.”

Either way. Nick took a second to figure that out. Adam had thought Nick was standing him up. Then he’d seen him sitting in the car—quite obviously not getting out. Shame took Nick by the shoulders and shook him. He was disappointing everyone today.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he said.

“Don’t be. You’re here.” But Adam rubbed at the back of his neck, leaving Nick to wonder how much of that was true.

They fell into silence again. Nick let the air swirl around them, seeking answers about Adam’s mood. Waiting for some signal of how to proceed.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” Adam finally said.

Nick looked over, confused.

“When you were sitting in your car. Were you thinking of leaving?”

Nick inhaled to lie, but then thought better of it. He nodded.

Adam took that at face value, but he kept walking. “When I saw you sitting there, I thought about doing the same thing.”

Nick ran that scenario through his head. Finally getting the guts to walk down to Adam’s apartment and finding no one home.

That—that would have stung. Given the thoughts he’d been having in the car, he probably would have deserved it.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Nick said, his voice rough.

“Just because I’m out doesn’t mean I don’t care, Nick.”

Nick. It was the first time he’d heard Adam say his name, and it sounded like an accusation.

“I know that,” he said tightly.

“If you’re not ready for this,” Adam continued, his voice gaining momentum from anger, “I get it. Trust me, I get it. If you want to walk away, it’s fine. But don’t string me along while you—”

“Jesus,” Nick snapped. “I’m not.” He rounded on Adam, reaching to grab his arm, to stop him, to confront him.

But Adam was suddenly five feet away, his back to the darkened building, his shoulders tight, his hands curled into fists.

Breath left his mouth in quickened bursts.

Nick held still for a moment. Then he closed the distance between them, stopping when he sensed Adam was going to back away again—or fight. His fists were up now, his expression re-solved.

Nick kept his own hands low. “Did you think I was going to hit you?” he said carefully. “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t.”

Adam studied him. His expression reminded Nick of last night, when Adam had almost flinched from his touch. Then the fear faded, quickly replaced by something closer to embarrassment. He turned and started walking again.

“Whoa.” Nick caught his arm and hauled him to a stop.

Adam stopped, his eyes locked straight ahead. His arm was tense under Nick’s hand.

Nick moved closer and dropped his voice. “I’m not trying to string you along,” he said quietly. “I thought about leaving, but I wasn’t going to. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

Adam turned his head to meet his eyes, and Nick felt his cheeks go warm.

“All day?” said Adam.

“I failed a physics test because of it.”

A shadow of that easy confidence sneaked back into Adam’s voice. “I blew a chem lab tonight because of you.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “A chem lab?”

“Yeah. I had class. I told you.”

“I thought you meant dance.”

“I wish. I suck at chemistry.”

Nick loosened his grip on Adam’s arm, but he didn’t let go.

“I’m great at chemistry.”

Adam’s eyes flicked to his lips. “I bet.”

Nick hesitated, not wanting to damage the mood, which felt precariously balanced between flirtation and forgiveness. But it also felt like a big old heap of evasion. “Can we talk about what just happened?”

Adam pulled away and started walking. Nick fell into step beside him, expecting Adam to need to walk to talk. But then his companion remained silent.

Nick didn’t press. He had enough experience from his brothers—to say nothing of Quinn—to know that people wouldn’t talk until they were damn good and ready. By the time they made it to the tiny restaurant, he no longer expected an answer.

The place looked like it didn’t know what it wanted to be.

Red-checked tablecloths, cheap metal chairs, and all manner of food on the menu, from dim sum to stromboli. Soft lighting did nothing to hide the fact that they were the only patrons in the place.

After they were seated at a four top, with sodas in front of them, Nick was desperate for anything to lighten the mood.