Page 40 of First Puck

“And here I thought I was going to do all the work.” Lance chuckled against me.

“It’s give and take,” I said roughly, so aware of how Brad might be watching. What would he think if he saw me with another man? How would he react if he knew I liked guys? Maybe now was the best time to show him. When he thought I couldn’t see him.

It was about confidence. It was about being bold after spending years in fear.

But even as I pulled back from Lance, meeting him head on, my hands trembled.

“Will you stay still for me?” I asked in a hushed whisper.

“Anything for you, Alex,” he purred. “Especially after your wonderful performance at the restaurant.”

I nodded, trying to focus even though every single ounce of my attention was on the window above us.

I uncurled my fingers from Lance’s, lifting my hands to cup his cheeks.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked, his eyebrow hitching.

“No,” I replied as I leaned in, knocking my forehead to his like he did at the party. “I haven’t got a clue.”

With our lips hidden by my wrists, I hoped it looked like we were kissing.

Lance turned his head just enough to help seal the deal.

We stayed there, bodies close, breaths melding in the warm spring night, our noses pressed as we stared at each other, barely inches apart.

It was the first time I’d held a man who knew what I was really like. Or even looked at someone so intensely. Though I felt nothing for him, my heart still beat in my throat as my breaths grew deeper.

This was what I wanted with Brad. I wanted him to look right back at me without having to hide any of myself.

Even though the closeness with Lance made my nervousness spike, it was a kind of comfort I had never felt before.

The main problem was, I didn’t know how to step away from him without making it insanely awkward.

I’d basically just hit on him and now I was stuck holding him.

“I’ve got to say, this was such fine work, I’m surprised I didn’t think of it myself,” Lance said as he saved me by smoothly extracting himself from my grip, leaning back just far enough to smirk at me.

“It’s good timing, actually. I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s a secret stage of Brad 9.0.”

“I thought we’d covered everything?” It seemed like he was unaffected by how I'd suddenly shoved my face into his. And I was so glad it meant nothing to him.

“Not this. This requires a touch more delicacy.”

Lance leaned back in with a wink, nudging my nose with his as he pulled me tighter. “So we might as well keep up the pretense while we chat.”

***

I shoved my hands deep in my pockets, sucking in a breath as I unlocked the door to our house.

Brad was waiting on the couch, and he perked up as soon as I stepped inside.

“Hey,” he said dully as he quickly hunched forward. Xbox controller in hand, glued to the TV screen, he carried on playing like he hadn’t been looking out for me.

Lance and I had talked outside for at least half an hour as he spilled everything about his mom’s cancer. By the time he left to go back to the restaurant to pick up his jacket/annoy Tommy, my view of him had deepened. I would have never guessed he was going through so much, or that he just needed someone to talk to who wasn’t Porter.

Even with all of Lance's plots and tricks, he swore he wouldn’t use his mom as a way to get close to Tommy. But I still had to wonder where his line was.

Brad had plenty of time to act like he hadn’t seen us—and I had to pretend like I hadn’t seen him. I was just going to do what Lance said and wait for him to bring it up.

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