Page 45 of Lance

Willa

Willa! Willa, look at this! Look at what I cando!”

I watch as Simon pushes himself backward off the pool wall and manages a couple of awkward strokes on hisback.

“You swim like a fish,” I tell him and he grins at me, wiping wet hair from his eyes. “Maybe we should start calling youAquaman.”

He gives a little whoop and holds up his arm in the air. “This is the trident of Neptune,” he bellows, his voice echoing through the high-ceilinged pool area. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lancewince.

“Hey,” I call to him, swimming over to the pool wall nearest his chair. “You should comein.”

He looks down at his gym shorts and t-shirt. “I’m not really dressed forswimming.”

I roll my eyes. “And Iam?”

“At least you have a suit on under…whatever thatis.”

I pull the sopping wet fabric of James’s oversized Kiss t-shirt away from my arm and it makes a wet squelching noise. “I don’t think what Layla gave me qualifies as asuit.”

He grins, his face mischievous, and for a second he looks like he did yesterday afternoon—before everything got so messed up. “I think I’d need to see it without the t-shirt to form an educatedopinion.”

“Yeah—that’s nothappening.”

When Lance called to invite me to come swimming with him and Simon I agreed without thinking—which was beginning to become a pattern when it came to him—and only realized that I didn’t have a bathing suit once I’d hung up. Knowing that Layla basically carted her entire wardrobe with her wherever she went, I headed down to her room to ask for help. She’d offered me three different bikinis. The one I had chosen consisted mostly of strings and a few triangles of black lycra— and it was, by far, the most modest of the three. Hence the t-shirt, as gross as it felt to be swimming with an extra yard of wet cotton plastered to mybody.

If I had known sitting by the edge of the pool on my phone was an option, I wouldn’t havebothered.

“You could totally swim in those shorts,” I tellhim.

“Maybe in a minute,” he says, looking back at his phone, and I feel a surge of annoyance at him. He isn’t eventrying.

I peek over my shoulder at Simon. He’s happily flipping himself back from the pool wall, apparently trying to see how big of a splash he can make. Lance had the concierge send someone across the street to a CVS and he’d come back with some pool toys and arm floaties. But Simon had quickly proved he didn’t need the floaties at all. I wasn’t kidding—the kid swims like afish.

“Lance,” I say, trying to keep any annoyance from my voice. “He’s having fun right now. He seems really comfortable. This would be a good time to get to know him alittle.”

There’s frustration on his face when he looks up at me. “I’m talking to someone at the label about finding a real estate agent, Willa. I’m trying to get us into a rental and out of this shitty hotel.” I would hardly call the five-star luxury that surrounds us shitty, but I suppose I can understand the desire to get out of a hotel suite with a six-year-old. “And,” he continues, sounding downright petulant now, “I’m trying to coordinate with the lawyer who’s arranging for an investigator to look for Angie. So I’m sorry if I’m a little busy rightnow.”

My surge of annoyance blooms into anger. “I get that you have a lot on your plate,” I snap, pushing back from the wall. “But if you expected me to babysit, you could haveasked.”

“Willa,” he calls in a strained voice that tells me my words made impact. I ignore him and turn to Simon instead. “All right, Aquaman! Let’s see if you can beat me to the deep end of thepool.”

Simon and I race back and forth a couple times while I try to keep my mind as far away from Lance as possible. I keep the races close but only let him win twice. I figure it’s good for little boys to lose to girls sometimes. Maybe then they won’t grow up into moody, self-entitled assholes like Mr. Rock Star overthere.

Okay, so maybe my attempts to keep my mind from Lance aren’t working sowell.

And it gets a whole lot harder a minute later when I hear splashing behind me and realize that he’s joined us in the water afterall.

“Nice swimming, Aquaman,” he says to Simon, who beams at him with such sincerity it makes my heart hurt a little. “Why don’t you show me that backstroke you were workingon?”

Simon splashes over to the pool wall while Lance steps up to my side in the waist-deep water. I don’t look at him, but my entire body is attuned to his presence, like my very cells are zinging around in excitement because he’s nearby. And since my first degree was in biology I know exactly how ridiculous and unscientific that sounds. But still. Stupid, traitorouscells.

“You were completely right,” Lance murmurs softly, close to my ear, and goose bumps pop up over my skin. “I made it seem like I was taking advantage of your kindness and I’m sorry. That was reallyshitty.”

I turn to face him but he’s looking at Simon now. “Good job!” he calls out as Simon stops thrashing through the water on hisback.

“I’m going to do it again!” Simon says. “Bet I can gofarther!”

Lance turns to face me again and I wish he wasn’t standing so close. It’s too hard to stay annoyed when he’s right there, close enough to touch if I wanted to. Especially when I realize he’s lost the t-shirt. Ohno.