Page 81 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
“Are we going somewhere for lunch, or are you going to fill yourself up on snacks?” I ask the back of her as she bends down to retrieve it.
“Megan?” That familiar voice always makes my insides go all fluttery. Speaking of the devil himself appears to have invoked him. I turn around and stare straight into Lance's face.
“Hey.” His smile is warm and inviting.
I return it, because seeing him makes me happy.
He reaches out and our fingers brush lightly. My body warms in anticipation but we’re both being careful.
His gaze dips, taking in my outfit, and I feel exposed in my tight lycra leggings and my ripped crop top which reveals my stomach. His gaze slowly rolls up to my face and I see he’s fighting to look calm. I can read those eyes well.
“You had a class?” he asks.
“Arla dragged me to spin.”
He turns to Arla who is silent by my side. “Hey, Arla.”
She nods. “Mr. Turner.”
“You don't have to call me Mr. Turner.” I can see the confusion on his face. Even he can sense Arla’s iciness.
“You should try the spin class,” I say, trying to lift the mood, because I was feeling elated until these two came face to face. Lance is wearing shorts and a t-shirt and I’m curious. “What are you doing here?”
“I was about to go and work out in the gym.”
I catch a glimpse of his wiry forearms, and my gaze lowers to his legs. They’re toned, muscular and hard.
We stare at one another, as if we're trying to get a read, a feel, as if each of us is waiting for the other to say something. A smile plays on his lips, but it’s the way he looks at me, soft and reassuring, that makes my insides melt.
“I'm hungry.” Arla chews off one end of her bar of chocolate and looks completely unimpressed.
“I'll see you around,” I tell him, forcing my body to move.
He nods. “I'll call you.”
I hope he will, because I’m still waiting.
“’Bye.” Arla hooks her arm through me and shifts me away. I’m so mad, I try to count to ten. We walk along and I unhook my arm from her. What has changed? She used to be team Lance until recently.
“I noticed Chris helped you with the gears.”
“You did?” I’m surprised she noticed there was anyone else in the room apart from Scott.
“He's hot and he's single,” she says, as if we didn’t meet Lance just a few moments ago. “He's hot and he's single,” Arla repeats, when I remain silent. “He’s nice. I could put in a word for you—”
I confront her. “Why are you so rude to Lance?”
“He’s too old for you.”
I’m too enraged to speak. We get in her car and she drives a short distance to the street where we usually find some great eating places. The mood is subdued and I’m on the way to losing the appetite I initially had.
“You can do better.”
Better? She knows the heartache I’ve had with men. Hookups never end well. Anything more, anything substantial, I’ve mostly avoided. I never wanted to have a man take care of me because experience has taught me that I am better off alone.
Hookups I can do. Relationships I can’t. But now, with Lance, I see the potential for something more meaningful, something precious and healing and good.
“We’re going on a date soon,” I announce, even though Lance hasn’t been forthcoming with his intentions. I need to shut Arla up. I climb out of the car.
