Page 66 of Lance

“You hired a nanny. Big deal.” Another step closer and now her hands are on my chest. I want to fall into her, to let her wrap me up in her arms and convince me that what she’s saying is true. “You’re here, Lance. You come home every night, you spend time with him every day. I can’t think of many rock stars who would do what you’ve done.” She shakes her head. “You’re not a failure. You’re so far from being afailure.”

I look into her sweet face. Willa, who would never hurt anyone. Willa, who’s kept herself isolated from people her whole life. Does she have any idea how bad people can be? Is it possible that what she sees in me is true? Or is it justnaiveté?

“If I hurt you, it would kill me,” I mutter, resting my head against her forehead. “I’m so afraid I’m going to screw this up and hurtyou.”

“How about you have a little faith inme?”

“I do, Willa. But you’ve said yourself, you don’t have a lot of experience with relationshipsand—”

She goes stiff in my hands, pulling away. “You think I’m too immature to make this kind ofdecision?”

“I didn’t saythat.”

She’s watching my face, her eyes hard and angry. “But that’s what you’rethinking.”

“Willa—”

“So was everything you said to me tonightbullshit?”

“No, of coursenot—”

“When we were dancing and you told me that I could do anything—did you actually meanit?”

That conversation on the dance floor felt like weeks ago, not mere hours “I meantit.”

She continues as if she hadn’t even heard me. “My entire life, people have been making decisions for me. Do you have any idea what that feelslike?”

“Look—”

“No, Lance! I’m tired of it. I’m tired of my fucking nickname and my mother planning my classes and my brother treating me like a baby. I thought you, you of all people, wouldn’t pull that shit. I thought you were the one person who actually respectedme.”

“I do respectyou!”

She takes a step closer, close enough for me to see the little flecks of gold in her dark blue eyes. How had I never noticed those before? “Then respect me enough to let me make my own choice,” she says, her voice low and raspy, filled with something I can’t quite name. Anger? Or maybe it’s passion.Wanting.

And that’s for me—that fire and that wanting is for me. I’m struck with that same feeling I had at the club—that idea that maybe I could actually be what she thinks Iam.

“What choice would you make?” I ask and all of the air seems to leave my lungs as she steps closerstill.

“I want you, Lance. That’s the choice I would make. I just…I wantyou.”

She’s trembling, her breaths coming fast while it feels like I can’t breathe at all. And even though I know she’s scared— I can read that fear in every inch of her face—she still holds my gaze. Facing me. Not backingdown.

I’m pulling her into my arms before I can think about it any more, my mouth crashing into hers, and I have no idea why we waited so long because this is fucking perfect. She is perfect. And I want her more than I’ve ever wanted just aboutanything.

“This is what I want,” she says against my mouth, her words even and sure. Somehow she’s turned into the confident one, the one in control, as she leads me toward my room, while I’m trembling with need and want and wondering if I could ever possibly be good enough for thiswoman.

But I do know that I’m done fighting this. If this is what Willa wants, this is what is going to happen. Because I’m pretty sure I’d do anything to make her happy. And God knows I want ittoo.