You are not creepy. You are great good fine. And brilliant and patient and gentle and kind.

Jesus, he was going to start crying again.

Before he could, the phone buzzed.

And frankly, you’re kind of hot. Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you last night?

Nick laughed before he could help it.

He took a seat and hid the phone under his desk, then slid his fingers across the screen.

You, too, for what it’s worth. And thank you.

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

NP. Been there. See you tonight. Don’t be late this time. ;-P

Nick wouldn’t be.

CHAPTER 11

Quinn stumbled into the truck and flung her bag on the floor between her feet. She could barely feel her toes, but somehow she was supposed to spend the next two hours dancing.

Her hands slapped over the vents. “Can you turn the heat up?”

Nick obliged her, reaching over and turning the dial all the way to the right. “You okay?”

Her fingers hurt from the cold, and she flexed them a few times. “Yeah. I’ve just been outside for a while.”

He reached over and took her hands, pressing them between his. He brought them to his lips and blew warm air along her fingers. “You should have texted me. What happened?”

Quinn looked up at him over their clasped hands. His face was close, his blue eyes gentle and intent on hers. His clothes were different from what he’d worn to school, and he looked like he’d shaved again, too.

He looked amazing.

A flicker of regret hit her between the eyes. This was so unfair.

She pulled her hands away. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You’re late.”

“I’m not. It’s seven forty. Did something happen?”

“My brother had his stupid pothead friends over.” Quinn grabbed the seat belt and jerked it across her chest. “I had to get out of there.”

She’d been lucky to get her dance clothes without being groped. Then her mom had gotten in her face and demanded to know where she’d been last night.

Why, Mom? Were you conscious?

At the stop sign at the end of her lot, Nick turned to look at her. “You could have called me. I would have come to get you.”

“You were working.” She sounded petulant and she didn’t care. She knew he would have come to get her, because that’s what perfect boyfriends did. “Did you dress up for Adam?”

He gestured down at his clothes. “I wouldn’t call this dress-ing up.”

She would. Dark-washed jeans and a forest-green pullover that clung to the muscles of his chest. He’d probably told his brothers he was getting ready for a date with her.

Quinn looked out the window. She didn’t know what was wrong with her tonight. This felt like jealousy, but that was insane. It had been her idea to keep pretend dating in the first place!

“Are you mad at me?” Nick sounded puzzled. Almost hurt.

“No, Nick. I’m not mad.”

He put an arm out. “Come here. What’s wrong?”

She was tempted to curl against him and let him stroke her hair or whisper assurances or whatever he was so good at. She didn’t move. “Forget it. It’s fine.”

He sighed, then swore under his breath. When they came to a red light, she could feel his eyes on her.

“Please don’t do this,” he said, his voice quiet but intense.

“You’re the only friend I can talk to. If I’ve f**ked something up, just tell me.” He paused. “I know you’re not talking to Becca. What happened?”

“How do you know that?”

“She asked me about you.”

“Oh, she remembers me now? That’s awfully sweet of her.”

“She’s concerned about you. When you said you were all right last night, I thought you were at her place.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“Where were you? Did you go home?”

“No, I was waiting out my mom. I was dancing on the trail by the woods.” Part of her didn’t want to talk about this, about any of it. Another part of her wanted to throw everything in Nick’s face.

God, this sucked. He was too good looking, too nice. Throw supernatural powers in the mix, and it was like fate was playing a cruel joke on her. Maybe next he’d tell her he had a winning lottery ticket in the glove box.

“You were dancing on the trail? Where?” said Nick.

“Where you picked me up the other night.”

Nick blew a loud rush of air through his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. “For god’s sake, Quinn, are you insane?”

“Probably. Some punk tried to steal my iPod.”

“You’re lucky that’s all that happened. Tyler lives near there.

He could have—”

“Tyler stopped him.”

Nick’s jaw tightened. The truck instantly went ten degrees colder. Quinn shivered.

“Stop it,” she snapped. “I’m already freezing.”

He turned the vent to high, but it didn’t help much. “What do you mean, Tyler stopped him?”

It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized this was what she wanted. Fury in his voice. A hint of anger and jealousy and pro-tectiveness. “The kid who stole my iPod. Tyler stopped him before he could take off with it. Then he bought me taquitos and we drank sodas on the roof of his strip mall.”