Page 46 of Lance

Okay, so I’ve seen Lance shirtless before—I have been backstage at Intrigue shows after all. But I’ve never been thisclose. His skin is completely perfect, tan and smooth, dotted with the bright ink of his tattoos. And his muscles…I swallow heavily, trying to look at anything except the miles of skin glistening with water. I’m sure I’m blushing, which only makes me feel more embarrassed. But come on, does he have to look thisgood?

“I really am sorry,” he continues, seemingly oblivious to my embarrassment. “I didn’t invite you so you could babysit, Willa. I invited you because Simon asked me to.” It’s ridiculous that those words hurt my feelings. What did I expect him to say? That he invited me because he was head over heels in love? Of course his thoughts are focused onSimon.

I realize he’s still talking and try to force my high school drama thoughts away. “But once I saw you guys having so much fun, I just felt awkward and…” He blows out a breath. “Frustrated, I guess. It seemed easier to focus onpracticalities.”

“You have a lot of practicalities to figure out,” I agree. “But things aren’t going to get less awkward unless you spend real time with him,Lance.”

“Maybe…uh, maybe you could help me with that? Help me, you know, figure out what he likes andstuff.”

I finally meet his eyes and realize, for the first time, just how truly, deeply scared he is. Sure, yesterday he seemed panicked and eager to run away. But this looks different. It looks personal. “You can do this, Lance. I know youcan.”

He blows out a breath. “I don’t have many examples of responsibility when it comes to the men in my life. My, uh, my dad took off when I was ababy.”

His eyes are defiant, as if he wants me to believe it didn’t hurt him. I know that look pretty well. “So did mine. Well, I was a kid, not quite a baby.”Simon’s age, I think, feeling a twinge of something I can’t quite read in mychest.

We’re both quiet for a moment. “Maybe you could think of that as a positive?” I finally offer. “Like, you know how shitty it feels to be left behind. You can imagine how scared Simon is right now. I bet that means you’ll be better at this than yourealize.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe.”

“Look, relating to a kid is easier than you think. I know for a fact that you and Dylan and my brother are basically overgrown childrenyourselves.”

“Hey,” he says, but when I raise an eyebrow in challenge he grins sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess weare.”

“You guys probably like a bunch of the same stuff already. I bet he plays video games. I know he likes action movies and comic books. Aren’t you guys always watching cartoonsbackstage?”

“That’s Dylan,” he says quickly, sounding defensive. I roll myeyes.

“Sorry, your obsession withIce Road Truckersis so muchcooler.”

His eyes flash, making my breath catch in my throat. “How do you know I likeIce RoadTruckers?”

“Uh, James must have toldme.”

He’s grinning now. “You sure you didn’t read that in an article aboutme?”

“Whatever,” I say quickly, hoping I’m not blushing. “The point is, Simon would probably be totally into something like that too. You just need to talk to him. Ask him to show you stuff he likes. Ask if he wants to try stuffyoulike.” I think of the way Simon’s entire face lit up when Lance called him Aquaman. Somehow I didn’t think he would have any trouble getting the kid on board with pretty much anything he wanted todo.

As if to prove my point, Simon swims over toward us. “Lance, wanna see me do a handstandunderwater?”

Lance looks over at me, shaking his head when I smirk in an I-told-you-so sort of way. “Sure. Let’s see what yougot.”

Simon throws himself under the water and kicks his feet. He struggles for a minute, never quite getting his feet out of the water, before his head pops up again. “How wasthat?”

“Um, I think maybe the water’s too deep here,” Lance says. “Let’s move in a little.” I hang back as the two of them make their way to the shallow end. Simon tries again but it’s still mostlyflailing.

“Did I doit?”

“Not quite. Here, I’ll help you get in the rightposition.”

Simon gets it on the third try with a little more help from Lance, and we both cheer for him when he surfaces. “You now!” he tellsLance.

They take turns doing handstands for a while, eventually progressing to underwater somersaults. I pull myself up onto the side of the pool, refusing Simon’s pleas for me to join them. “I’m too clumsy,” I tell him. “I’d probably kick you right in the face.” He giggles at that. Of course, the real reason I don’t want to participate has a lot more to do with revealing the teeny tiny bikini than anything else. But the two of them seem to be having fun together, so I’m happy to hangback.

When Simon gets water up his nose for the third time, Lance determines that he’s had enough somersaults for one day. “Why don’t you practice your diving skills,” he says. “Hangon.”

Lance grabs the edge of the pool and I try—and probably fail—not to ogle at his straining biceps as he pulls himself smoothly out of the water. He grabs the bag of pool toys from the table he’d been occupying and pulls out a set of brightly colored plastic rings and a mask. “I’m going to toss these in and you have to find them all,okay?”

“But I can’t see under the water,” Simon says. “It makes my eyeshurt.”