I nodded. “That’s exactly what I used to tell Dad. It’s like they choreographed their movements.”
“Or not.” Lanz shrugged. “Maybe they just … connect. No planning, no practice. Impulsive.” His expression was serious, his eyes intent on my face.
A tingle ran up my spine. I had to look away, or else, or else … “It’s so late. Or … early, I guess. We should get back to shore.”
“Cosa c’è? What’s wrong?” He cupped his hands over mine. “I can hear it in your voice. Something’s upset you.”
I shook my head, yanking my hands out from under his. “Stop! Okay? You can’t talk to me like that. Or hold my hands like that! You told me you like Eve! Andres saw you kissing her, and, and …” I put my head in my hands. “I don’t even understand what’s going on anymore!”
I waited, my head down, listening to the lapping water while Lanz sat in stunned silence. Then he laughed.
I peeked up. “How can you possibly be laughing right now?” I glared at him. “Stop, or I swear I’ll throw you overboard.”
Lanz held up his hands. “Abbi pietà! Have mercy! I am not laughing at you. Only … that you thought me and Eve were … that I kissed her in that way. Like a girlfriend.”
I stared at him. “Didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “No! In Italy, we kiss hello and good-bye, cheek to cheek. It’s the custom. I was only trying to be polite with Eve.”
My pulse thundered in my ears. “But … but you never kissed me cheek to cheek like that.”
“Because I was too worried you would slap me!”
I giggled. “That’s fair. I might’ve slapped you.”
Lanz’s laughter faded, softening into seriousness. “Eve is nice. But she’s not the girl for me. I think, actually, that her heart belongs to someone else.”
“Ethan,” I said, then clamped a hand over my mouth in shock. It was the first time I’d said aloud what I’d been wondering since I’d seen them together in the science lab this morning. Or maybe I’d suspected it for even longer, and I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself.
“It is only a guess,” Lanz said quietly, watching me. “But … this means you’ve noticed, too? And … are you hurt? Angry?”
“I—I’m not. At least, not the way I thought I might be.” I sighed. “Ethan and I are … we’re taking a break to figure things out.”
Lanz’s eyes saucered. “Was this his idea or yours?”
“Mine.”
“Why?” He said it so quietly I barely heard.
I risked meeting his eyes, and saw something new glinting in them. Hope. My heart thrummed, and suddenly, I gave in to every feeling I’d been pushing away. “Because … because I can’t think straight around you. That’s why I didn’t want you to work at Once upon a Scoop. I was scared to spend time with you because I … I didn’t want to fall for you.” There. It was out. The weeks of denying the truth were over.
“Did you?” He leaned toward me until I could smell the scent of his skin—tangy lemon, sand, and sun. “Fall for me?”
“You have to know the answer to that,” I whispered, blushing furiously. “But … I have plans. Everything has a place in my life. School. Ethan. Dance. And this … this complicates everything.”
He smiled. “So your life doesn’t fit into neat little boxes. Quel che sarà. What will be, will be.” He brushed my hair from my forehead. “Malie, please. Look at me.”
My body was a roller coaster of adrenaline as I lifted my eyes to his. I was terrified; I was elated. I was nauseous; I was lighter than air. I dreaded; I hoped.
“I am Ethan’s friend. I am … your friend. But since I met you, I’ve … wanted to be more than that to you. I’ve tried to keep a distance from you lately, but … it’s not working.” His eyes were steady, unblinking. “You asked before why I never kissed you cheek to cheek.” He cupped my face in his hands. “There is only one kind of kiss I want to give you.”
His lips moved toward mine, until they were so close I could feel their warmth. But—
“Lanz, wait.” I pulled away so quickly the kayak swayed. “I can’t. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
He gazed out over the water, then slowly nodded. “You’re right. I don’t, either.”
“I have to think. And talk to Ethan. But I … have a lot to deal with right now with rehearsals … I need to focus. Then we can see …”
I expected him to say he understood, or that he agreed, but his relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a stiff politeness. “We should get back now.” He swung his paddle into the water, turning his eyes toward the shore.
“Oh.” My insides crumbled. “Okay.”
Our ride back to the beach was silent, and as soon as we settled the kayak into the sand, Lanz said he was going home.
I was dismayed. This night was ending all wrong. As he began to walk down the beach, I ran to catch up. “Lanz, wait! Are you … are you mad at me?”
He shook his head. “No.” Then he threw up his hands. “Well. Maybe … Yes!” The moonlight shone on his frown. “You talk about plans and complications. But … what is so complicated? You are going to be Cinderella. Your dream is real and happening. You should be less worried now. You should relax. Enjoy this.”
“I don’t need to relax,” I said defensively. “I need to rehearse.”
“So rehearse. Dance. Perform. I love that you want to do it all. And I want to be there for you, only … I’m not sure you want to let me in.”
“I do!” I cried. “I told you I do.”
“Then what is it?”
I dug my bare feet into the sand. How could I tell him my fear that even the smallest wrinkle could sabotage all I’d worked
