Secret. Brigid Kemmerer

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the bag.

      He wasn’t fooling himself.

      His chest felt tight. Breath fought its way into his lungs. Adam might not have been watching him, but Nick felt like the center of attention anyway, like everyone in this room could feel his agitation, his insecurity, his disappointment.

      He kept his head down over his notebook, but the rich timbre of Adam’s voice kept poking at the edges of his awareness. Adam was a good teacher. Friendly. Engaging, making the kids laugh as he counted off a routine and pointed out their errors.

      His bare feet crossed the studio to stop in front of the stereo, drawing Nick’s eyes. He hit a button, and music swelled through the room. Country, to Nick’s surprise, lively guitar chords backed by a strong bass line and a driving beat.

      Then Adam returned to his spot in front of the mirror and counted off the same beat, leading his students into a routine.

      Nick’s breath caught. Music always rode the air until he felt each beat through his whole body. But the air here was full of energy that sparked and rejoiced with the melody. Nick could practically thread his fingers through the notes. He fed a bit of power to the air, getting it back in spades. The students leapt higher, their movements matching the beat perfectly, invisible streamers of sound-fed power weaving among them.

      And Adam—he was magnificent. He moved like the music lived inside him, as if Nick’s power choreographed each motion.

      When the last chord hit and they went still, the air in the room waited, too, charged with potential.

      Then the parents clapped.

      Nick felt Quinn breathing beside him. “You did something,” she whispered. “Didn’t you?”

      “I didn’t mean to.” And that was true. But facing Tyler in the driveway, telling Quinn his secret, the wonder and fear and uncertainty of coming here—all his emotions had rallied.

      Adam was looking now. His chest rose and fell quickly.

      All this power, and Nick had no idea what Adam was thinking.

      Then Adam broke the eye contact and called his class to order, dismissing them for the night.

      Nick let go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He’d left a sweaty handprint along the spine of his physics book.

      “Try not to do that while I’m dancing, okay?” said Quinn. Before he could answer, she was climbing down from the risers, stripping out of her sweatshirt, pushing through the crowd of parents fighting for the exit.

      Adam had disappeared into the hallway, too.

      Damn.

      Nick flung the textbook open on the bench and told himself to get excited about mass and acceleration and inclined planes. The room emptied, and when Quinn flicked on the stereo to start warming up, Nick tried to convince himself he would’ve been better off staying in the car.

      His brain wasn’t convinced. He didn’t move.

      The air told him when Adam walked into the room. Nick ignored the swirl in the currents, the minute temperature change as his element reacted to his tension.

      Study.

      He tried. He read the same equation sixteen times. It could have been written in crayon by a dyslexic toddler for all the sense it made.

      Adam walked over to the risers.

      Nick’s eyes froze on his textbook. Now he couldn’t remember what subject he was studying.

      Adam put his hand on one of the wooden benches and leapt to the upper level.

      Nick had forgotten how he moved, like a jungle cat crossed with an acrobat. Powerful yet agile. Instead of sitting beside him, Adam sat cross-legged on the riser in front of him.

      It left Nick looking down at him. The position was casual and nonthreatening.

      And kind of hot.

      Nick told his eyes to stay on his frigging notebook, but they found Adam’s feet, following the line of his calves to his knees and thighs and—

      Up. Up. Look up, before you get yourself in trouble.

      Nick looked at his face. The darkness of Adam’s eyes, the barely-there start of shadow across his jaw. The crooked scar that dragged his lip away from perfection.

      Nick flashed on what it had felt like to kiss him. He jerked his gaze back to his book. “Hey.”

      Hey. Wow. Suave. Maybe Quinn should be videotaping this.

      “What are you studying?” said Adam, his voice gently teasing, almost provocative. It made him sound like he wasn’t talking about studying at all.

      If it had been a girl, Nick could have flirted back. You, he would have said.

      Say it. Say it, say it, say it.

      “Physics,” he said instead.

      Ugh. Suddenly he felt like such a dork. Next he’d say he needed to get home to his bug collection.

      He cleared his throat. “I enjoyed your class.”

      “Thanks. They’re good kids.” Adam paused. “Did you come to watch Quinn?”

      No, I came to watch you.

      But he couldn’t say it.

      “Come on,” Quinn called from the floor. “You guys can make out later. Let’s get this done.”

      Nick slammed his textbook closed. “Damn, Quinn.”

      Adam uncurled from the bench. He was smiling. “I forgot you were such an easy blush.”

      “Yeah, yeah.”

      Adam started to move away, but then he paused and leaned back to whisper. “It’ll make for interesting conversation later.”

      Nick studied the whole time Adam and Quinn rehearsed.

      No. That wasn’t true.

      He pretended to stare at his textbook the whole time. In reality, he never turned a page, he never took a note, and he didn’t take his eyes off Adam.

      This was ridiculous. Any minute now, he’d be doodling hearts down the margin of his notebook.

      An easy blush. He wasn’t usually. But he could feel his cheeks warming just thinking of Adam’s last comment.

      He wasn’t the only one blushing, either. Some younger girls were clustered and giggling in the doorway, whispering about Adam.

      Nick couldn’t blame them. Adam and Quinn made an eye-catching pair as they spun across the floor. His dark hair and olive skin seemed to shadow her blue-eyed-blond-peaches-and-cream complexion. Nick wondered if Adam played to that, if he’d choreographed the dance to highlight СКАЧАТЬ