Page 80 of Lance

Shit. So Willa knows that her dad showed up out of the blue with zero plans to see her. That he was only interested in seeing her suddenly famous, successful olderbrother.

“I shouldn’t have told her,” James says, rubbing his forehead. “Damn it. I should have at least waited until I wasn’t soupset.”

“This isn’t your fault, James,” Haylee says. “Your dad is the assholehere.”

“Maybe we should skip today,” I blurt out. “You’re upset. You should go home,James.”

“I can work,” he mutters, but he’s still rubbing hisforehead.

All I can think about is seeing Willa. I don’t care if Haylee is eyeing me with suspicion. I don’t even care if Louis flips out. “I’m just thinking,” I say quickly. “If Willa is upset, I don’t want her to have to watch Simon today. She should go hang out with Nia or something. Get her mind offit.”

“Yeah,” James says, looking up at me. “I didn’t even think aboutthat.”

I nod, standing. “I’m gonna head home and check onher.”

“Hey.” James stands. For a second I think he’s going to deck me, like maybe he knows exactly why I want to get home to his sister. But instead he holds out his hand for me to shake. “Thank you for thinking about her, man. That means alot.”

“You’re welcome.” Guilt rushes through me and I can’t meet his eyes—or Haylee’s—as I leave the room, trying not to look like I’mrushing.

But once I hit the hallway, I break into arun.

* * *

I findher at the house, sitting out on the patio by the pool, a paperback in her hands. For some reason, it gives me a warm feeling, knowing that she stayed here after she talked to James instead of going back to her apartment to seeNia.

She looks up when I slide the glass door to the patio open, her gaze immediately locking with mine. She doesn’t look at all surprised to see me even though I told her this morning not to expect me until evening. “You talked to James,” she says in place of agreeting.

“Idid.”

I walk over and take the lounge chair next to her, sitting on it sideways so I can look at her. Before I can say anything, her eyes go back to her book. “I’m fine, Lance.Really.”

“Yeah?” I ask. “Then why don’t you want to look atme?”

“I’m reading,” she says, annoyed. I watch her for a moment. Her eyes aren’t moving, just staring blankly at thepage.

“Willa.”

She sighs, setting the book aside, but she still won’t look at me, concentrating instead on the hem of her cut-off shorts. “I really amfine.”

“I don’t believeyou.”

That does the trick. She glares up at me. “Why are you making such a big deal about this? Some asshole I barely remember doesn’t want to see me. Bigdeal.”

“He’s not just someasshole.”

“Yes he is,” she snaps, her fingers tightening to fists at hersides.

“You never talk about him,” I pointout.

She looks even more furious. “That’s because there’s nothing to talk about. It’s like I said, I barely rememberhim.”

“When did heleave?”

“Lance.”

“Hey.” I reach over and wrap my fingers around her ankle, and only then do I realize how tense she is. Every muscle is tight and rigid, like she’s holding herself together by sheer force of will. It reminds me of the way Simon had looked the other night after his nightmare. Without thinking I slide into her chair, gathering her up to my chest. She doesn’trelax.

“What areyou—”