Page 22 of Lance

“I don’t get it. I thought…I thought you might like me?” I hate the anxious, doubtful note I can hear in thequestion.

“I did like you.” He rubs his neck again, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “I mean, I do. Of course I do.” He gives me a pained smile. “You’re James’s little sister. Everyone in the band likesyou.”

Something about that pisses me right off. I cross my arms. “Is that what you were thinking when you kissed me? That I was James’s littlesister?”

Even in the colorful lights of the club I can see his face pale. “No. Of course not. Look, I shouldn’t have donethat.”

“Why not? I certainly wasn’tcomplaining.”

“Minnie—”

“It’s not myname.”

He holds his hand up. “Okay, okay. Look, I didn’t recognize you when we started talking at the bar. I’m sorry. You just…uh. You look different. Than I remember, I mean.” Another rub of the neck, another painedexpression.

“And once you realized who I was you didn’t like meanymore?”

His eyes widen at the shake in my voice. “No! Of course not. Willa, it’s not likethat.”

“Then what’s itlike?”

“You’reJames’s sister.” His smiles, sheepish, and I wonder if he knows how adorable he looks.Of course he does, I tell myself. He’s probably been using that smile to get whatever he wants for years. “There’s like, a code, Willa. You don’t hit on your friend’s littlesister.”

I decide to ignore the part about my brother. “So youwerehitting on me.” I take a step closer. I can see him swallow and something about the little movement of his throat makes me feel powerful. What did Nia say? Lean on his arm? No, touch his arm and lean…leansomewhere.

“Are you going to fall over?” he asks, sounding alarmed. “Should we sitdown?”

“No.” I press my palm against his chest. “You can hold meup.”

He stares down at me, his eyes wide, and swallows again. “Willa…”

“I like you, Lance,” I say, trying to make my voice sound alluring. I lean in a little closer. “I’ve always likedyou.”

His head swings back and forth as he glances around the room, probably looking for my brother. “Forget James,” I whisper, but he still doesn’t look down at me.Screw this, I think. Wasn’t I supposed to be acting like someone else tonight? Maybe it’s time to throw caution to the wind. I reach up and touch his face. “Why don’t we go somewhere more private?” I ask, my voice husky. At least I hope it sounds husky and not just strangled. I clear my throat, trying again. “Let’s go get to know each other better, Lance. I can make sure that my brother will be the last thing on yourmind.”

“Willa.” That’s all he says, just my name. But not even I can pretend to hear longing in the word. Instead he sounds stern, serious. He takes my shoulders and pushes me back. The movement is gentle and he holds on until he’s sure I have my balance before releasing me, but it feels like a blow all the same. “You’ve had way too much to drink.” I hate the kindness in his voice, the condescension. “Why don’t we go and find your friendand—”

“I don’t want to find my friend,” I snap. “I want to go hook up with you,idiot.”

His mouth drops open and I feel a little surge of triumph, knowing I can shockhim.

“I might have been drinking tonight,” I continue, moving toward him again. “But I know what I want.” I reach for his face, thinking if maybe I can just touch him he’ll feel it too. That spark that flashed across my skin when we touchedbefore.

But he grabs my hand before I can make contact. “No, Willa,” he says, his voice stern. “That’s not going tohappen.”

A wave of embarrassment crashes into me so hard my knees feel weak. But apparently I’m not nearly as smart as people think I am because I don’t immediately run off in mortification. “Why not?” I whisperinstead.

“Because you’redrunk.”

“Like you’ve never hooked up with a drunk girlbefore.”

He talks right over me, like I never opened my mouth. “And because you’re my best friend’s little sister and I’d prefer to not be castrated at this point in mylife.”

“I can handle mybrother.”

“And,” he continues, his voice raising just enough to sting. “Because you’re just a kid,Willa.”

“I’m twenty-two, I’m not akid.”