He’s laughing now, dodging her swings, and I’m frozen, watching this entirely different version of Lance emerge. Lighter. Almost playful.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, asshole.” She gets one more solid hit in before he catches her wrist.
“You done?” He’s grinning, gently prying the newspaper from her grip.
“No. God, Felicity is never gonna let me live this down. She bet me fifteen bucks you two had slept together. Care to explain?”
“Explain what?”
“Why Art’s girlfriend is standing in your kitchen looking like she just rolled out of your bed.”
“She’s got her own room. Upstairs. With a door. That locks,” I say.
She pivots to me so fast her hair fans out. “It looks like you’re standing in my brother’s kitchen half-naked, drinking coffee, while he,” she points at Lance, “is also half-naked and staring at you with puppy-dog eyes.”
Lance scoffs and I make a face.
“I was not staring at her,” he says at the same time I let out, “Absolutely not.”
“Put a damn shirt on,” she shrieks, swatting at him again.
He dodges, eyes crinkling.
“Is theRagtrue?” Juliette narrows her eyes. “Are you having a secret affair?”
“There’s no secret,” he says.
“You can’t lie to me, dickhead. I grew up with you.” She taps a manicured nail on the counter. “Then explain why Art’s girlfriend is playing sleepover with Lance ‘I hate everyone’ Calloway.”
“I don’t hate everyone,” he mutters.
“Name someone you like besides me and Art.”
He opens his mouth.
She smiles sweetly.
“It’s not what you think,” I say. “Someone’s been following me. Art asked Lance to keep an eye on me until they figure out who it is.”
Juliette’s expression shifts from accusatory to concerned. “Following you?”
“Some guy’s been showing up at the tavern, watching her,” Lance says. “Followed her through the woods. Art wanted her somewhere safe.”
“Oh my God. Are you okay?” Juliette asks.
“I’m fine. Lance has been actually really helpful.”
She looks between us, slower this time, recalculating.
“Art knows about this?”
“It was his idea,” Lance says.
She chews her lip. Then she steps closer to him, voice dropping. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s none of your business.AndI knew you’d react like this.”
“God forbid I worry about my brother. The one who disappears for days, keeps secrets from everyone, and shows up with random bruises and cuts on his knuckles.”
