Page 53 of Lance

Lance

This party is going to be lit,” Dylan says, popping the cap off a bottle of beer as he settles into one of the couches in thestudio.

“It’s going to belit? Are you trying to sound cool?” Layla asks as she takes a seat at the end of the couch. She continues before he can answer, “You shouldn’t. You’re bad atit.”

“I want to thank you, Layla,” Dylan says, “for always building up my confidence. It’s a gift youhave.”

She grins at him before taking a swig of her own beer. “Mypleasure.”

“Seriously, though,” Dylan continues, gesturing around the studio. “I so need this tonight. We’ve been working our assesoff.”

“I thought you and James went out last night?” I ask, not bothering to temper the bitterness in my voice. As far as I can tell, James and Dylan have been taking full advantage of the LA nightlife over the last several weeks. Because, unlike some of us, they have zero responsibilities waiting for them at home. “Andthe night beforethat.”

Dylan shrugs. “Well, yeah, but that was just the bar down the street. It wasn’t some amazing club where we got to be VIPs. Tonight though…” He trails off, looking thoughtful. “I bet I’d be able to pick up a girl tonight. I mean, there’s bound to be a bunch of girls there who know who we are,right?”

Layla squints at him. “I can’t decide if you’re adorable orpathetic.”

“Pathetic,” I say. “Definitelypathetic.”

Dylan glares at me. “Sorry, Lance. We can’t all be fucking Casanova trying to juggle half the female population in thecity.”

I glare right back. Casanova my ass. I haven’t been out in weeks. And I certainly haven’t picked up any girls. A rather unfortunate side effect of having a six-year-old athome.

Not that the idea of random women is holding much appeal for me these days. Not when I’m spending so much time with Willa—a decidedly not-random woman who nevertheless is completely off limits. I push the thought away as Louis clears his throat from the doorway. The three of us groan without looking up at him. “You do realize this is a work night for you?” he asks. “You’re supposed to be promoting the club, not picking upwomen.”

“Note he doesn’t say anything about picking up men,” Layla says happily. “I guess I’m in theclear.”

Louis opens his mouth, probably to start yelling, if his rapidly reddening face is any indication, but he’s interrupted by the arrival of James and Haylee. “Food’s here,” Haylee says, holding up the brown paper bags in herhands.

“Yes,” Dylan whimpers, reaching for a bag. “I can smell the grease fromhere.”

We dig into our burgers and fries. “Don’t take forever,” Louis warns. “It would be good to make some actual progress this afternoon before you have to go home to getready.”

“You can’t rush art, Lou,” Haylee says, her mouth filled with food. He shoots her a disgusted look before leaving theroom.

“He acts like we haven’t been working since first thing in the morning,” Dylangrumbles.

“We got here at eleven,” Haylee pointsout.

“Exactly,” he says. “That’s practicallydawn.”

I make a scathing noise in the back of my throat. Simon woke me up at six this morning after wetting the bed. Then it had taken me an hour of assuring him I wasn’t mad to get him to stopcrying.

“What’s with you?” Hayleeasks.

“What do you mean what’s withme?”

“You’ve been grumpy all day,” shesays.

“No Ihaven’t.”

“You’ve been grunting and scowling at everyone.” I glare at her and she points at me. “See?”

“Yeah,” Layla agrees. “You’re practically as bad asJames.”

“Hey,” he says, grabbing some fries from her bag. “Don’t drag me into this. I’m as pleasant as apeach.”

We all snort at that. James and pleasant aren’t two words one would normally puttogether.