Page 4 of Daring Lance

“This stuff smells good.” Antonio took a strong whiff from the bottle before squeezing out more lotion into his palm. “I think Lance breaks if off early in the relationship because he’s afraid they’ll develop some type of emotional tie, which will lead to the demand of exclusive dating, and eventually a commitment and bye-bye freedom.”

Lance rolled his eyes skyward. “Thanks, Dr. Phil. That was insightful and definitely wrong. I simply haven’t met anyone I want more than a casual relationship with. Besides, Willow is different. She doesn’t need anyone to make her happy because she isalreadyhappy.”

Antonio, a palm full of lotion making its way to his lower leg, paused. “Huh?”

Lance sighed and glanced out toward the ocean. “It’s like she knows who she is and doesn’t need anyone else to define her. We spent some time together at the rehearsal dinner, and some other events Madison planned prior to the wedding, and it’s, I don’t know, I can’t describe it any differently.” Lance tossed a bottle cap at Antonio’s chest. “Don’t you have a cheating spouse or troubled housewife you need to console?” Lance pulled a beer from out of the cooler and unscrewed the cap.

“Then what’s the problem? You were obviously into Willow at the wedding. Or are you already seeing each other and trying to redirect us?” Cam raised his brows high over a pair of dark brown eyes.

Lance took a long pull from his bottle of beer before he set it down next to his chair, securing it in the sand to prevent it from tipping over. “Fine. Here’s the truth. She told me that I’m nothertype.”

Cam choked on his beer, quickly wiping the liquid from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s hilarious.” He took another drink from his half-empty bottle before capturing Lance’s gaze and then set the drink down in the sand. “Wait. What? You’re serious?”

“Of course, he’s not,” Antonio interjected. “They spent the entire week prior to the wedding flirting when they thought no one else noticed, which we all did. Then, of course, you, me, and two hundred other guests witnessed them on the dance floor. They were melded together so tightly that you would have needed a crowbar to separate them. She was totally into him.”

Lance picked up his bottle and took another swig from it. “That might have been the case at the time, but apparently it was a fleeting anomaly. She blamed it on the champagne.”

Cam ran his hand along his lower jaw. “A fleeting anomaly? What does that even mean? Did you make that up?”

Lance shot his friend an annoyed glance. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. She told me to my face that I’m not her type.”

Antonio applied some sunscreen balm to his lips, and then pointed the small tube at Lance. “That makes no sense. How could you not be her type? I thought she was super smart, and she obviously enjoys the beach. She has snorkeling gear in her hand right now.”

Lance grunted. “She is smart. She speaks seven languages, has lived all over the world, and is trained as a computer programmer. She translates Netflix movies into different languages and does the subtitle programming herself.”

Cam whistled under his breath. “That is so cool. She’s probably seen like every major movie before everyone else. I wonder if she knows whether there will be another season ofStranger Thingsor not?”

Lance ground his teeth together and stopped himself from commenting.

“I still don’t get it.” Antonio shook his head. “Why aren’t you her type?”

“I have no idea.”

Cam scratched the bottom of his chin. “She didn’t tell you?”

“Nope, she simply said I wasn’t her type.” Lance didn’t understand it himself and planned to ask her again once his humiliation abated long enough to give him the courage to do it. From the corner of his eye, he spied Willow conversing with a few people he recognized as tenants in their building. Damn, if she didn’t rock a bikini better than anyone else on the beach. He shot his gaze back to his two friends before they noticed where his attention had drifted.

Antonio reclined his lounge chair to a thirty-degree angle and laid back against it. “Women make no sense to me. It’s probably why I prefer to stay single.”

“That and no one wants to date you more than once,” Cam shot back.

“Ha, ha,” Antonio paused, his expression serious. Uh oh, Lance thought, here comes another dose of advice, and it was bound to be entertaining because his friend had recently finished his second beer in a span of twenty minutes. “This is serious, dude. If someone like Willow, who obviously liked you enough to get it on for a wholePrincesong in front of your family and friends—”

Lance pressed the palms of his hands against his eyelids. “We didn’t get it on. We kissed. And it was no big deal either because she’s not my type either, not really.” Which was a lie as he would have been open to getting it on and a whole lot more had Willow been interested. As for it not being a big deal, he wished he could convince himself of that each time he found himself recalling the taste of her lips or the curve of her breasts pressed against him as they danced, caught up in a world that only contained the two of them. Man, he was pathetic. It was a kiss, for God’s sake. That was it. So what if it lasted over seven minutes and left him panting in perpetual need whenever he thought of her. She had even darted off the dance floor when it ended, disappearing for the balance of the evening. Communication between them had only been by text since then. That was probably for the best. The feeling’s he felt for her were likely temporary, anyway, and bound to go away as soon as he met someone else-which had turned out to be a problem the last few weeks as he had no interest in anyone other than Willow. Damn.

“Right,” drawled Cam. “So let me get this straight. You’re saying if she did think you were her type, you still wouldn’t date her?”

“I didn’t say that…I mean—”

“Dude, you are totally hooked on this chick. This is amazing!” Antonio directed his newly opened beer in a mock salute toward Lance. “Who would have ever seen this coming? I can’t wait to tell the guys at work tomorrow.”

“Antonio, I don’t want to hear you even repeat her name again. I already told you: she’s not interested and so, neither am—”

“Chill, dudes,” Cam interrupted. He made a discreet nod over his left shoulder, and Lance followed the movement, his eyes widening. “She’s walking this way. She will hear you.”

“Do not say a word about, you know.” Lance figured his warning fell on deaf ears but said it anyway. He could only hope that his friends did not humiliate him to the point of having to move out of the condo and into his brother’s place for the next few days until they returned from their honeymoon. Where he’d go from there, he’d figure out.

“Hi, great day to enjoy the beach,” Willow said in greeting.

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