Page 12 of Lance

It wasn’t until she called me James that I realized I have no idea what her name is. Apparently it doesn’t matter to her, though, because she’s obviously willing to leave with me right now. Not because she likes me. Not even because she thinks I’m hot or something. Hell, she didn’t even know which band member I am. The fact that I’m in Intrigue is enough forher.

And none of this feels so funanymore.

“I’m actually not looking for anything like that right now,” I tellher.

She laughs, the sound nothing at all like her girlish giggles from earlier. “Sweetie, this isn’t my first party, okay? I know the drill with boys like you.” She leans in a little closer, letting her hand brush against the front of my jeans. “So there’s a dressing room down the hall or a pretty roomy supply closet right on the other side of that door. Take yourpick.”

The thought of taking this woman, with her fake laugh and her overwhelming perfume, into a supply closet actually makes me feel a little ill. “No, uh, thank you. That won’t benecessary.”

Her knowing smile is slowly giving way to a look of annoyance. “I thought you were the player of the group,” she says, and there’s something like accusation in her eyes. She looks me up and down. “It’s obviouslyyou.”

“What are you talkingabout?”

“Oh, come on,” she says. “There’s one in every band. Atleastone. The guy who’s down to party, you know what I’m saying? I’m usually pretty good at figuring out which one is the rightone.”

There is a curious part of me that wants to ask her how many bands she has experience with, but mostly I just want to get away from her at this point. “Yeah, I’m not so sure we have one of those in my band.” On second thought, it’s probably Layla. But I don’t say that. “Sorry to waste yourtime.”

She just stares at me for a minute, disbelieving. “You serious? We’re not going to fuck rightnow?”

Wow. Suddenly I feel about as experienced and sophisticated as a twelve-year-old. Am I supposed to be turned on bythis?

“Uh, nope. Sorry about that.” I back away as quickly as I can. “Just gonna go get that beer now. You, uh, have a nicenight.”

She shakes her head as she turns away from me, muttering something about fuckingamateurs.

I make a beeline for the bar so I can get myself another drink. Holy shit. It’s not like I’m naïve enough to think stuff like that doesn’t happen. My band has been on the road several times, we’ve played a couple festivals. I have been a happy participant in the hookup culture that tends to surround these things. But I’ve never had someone proposition me so openly before. I certainly never had someone tell me straight to my face that they wanted to hook up because I was in the hot rock group, that they literally didn’t even care which one I was. I down half my beer in a few gulps, trying to wash away the sick taste in mymouth.

Okay, buddy, I tell myself.Pull it together here. So a hot woman threw herself at you. Not the end of the world. You’re at a party celebrating how awesome your band is. It’s supposed to befun.

But there was something about the way she looked when I told her I was Lance, not James, that I can’t seem to shake. And I don’t know why it’s bothering me somuch.

“You don’t look like you’re having nearly as much fun as you shouldbe.”

I turn in the direction of the voice and see the girl from earlier, the nervous-looking brunette who waved at me. She still looks nervous but she also seems determined, like she’s made up her mind to talk to me and refuses to turnback.

Maybe it’s just the contrast with the pushy blonde, but for some reason, it strikes me as really fuckingcute.

“I’m recovering,” I tell her, holding up my beerbottle.

“Theblonde?”

I laugh in surprise. “How did youknow?”

She smiles. “I was watching you before. I’m not a stalker, or anything,” she adds quickly. “It was just kind of hard to miss. You looked, uh, a little freakedout.”

“That’s one way to putit.”

Her mouth twitches. “Well, I was going to say you looked like you wanted to run away screaming but that didn’t seem verypolite.”

I take another sip of beer, my spirits lifting. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to worry about this girl suggesting we make our way to a roomy supply closet. But now that I think aboutit…

I let my gaze drift down, trying not to be real obvious about it. She’s pretty hot, in an understated kind of way. Unlike the blonde, I can’t see half her rack over the top of her dress, but everything I can see is definitely not bad. Nice curves, long legs, gorgeous fucking shiny hair. And her eyes—she looks up at me suddenly, looks at me straight in the eye, and I feel the breath leave my chest. Her eyes are unbelievable. Dark blue, framed in long black lashes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite likethem.

“You’re beautiful,” I blurt out, without thinking. Immediately I regret it—talk about playing it cool. But the girl’s entire face lights up, and if I thought her eyes were breathtaking before it was nothing compared to how they looked now, her face shining withhappiness.

“Thank you,” she says, her words hardly louder than a whisper, and now she’s blushing and lookingaway.

For some reason, I don’t like it. I don’t want her to feel shy with me. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” I tell her, reaching for her hand. She lets out an audible breath when our skin touches and it sounds like…it almost sounds like relief. “But I meant it,” Iadd.