Page 28 of Chronicles of a Rockin' Mess

“Heck no, lady, finders keepers,” he says as he starts swimming away from me waving the top in the air like a trophy.

“Hey!” I call out and then clamp my mouth shut as I realize I’m drawing more attention to me. The DILF is now looking at me, well, at my breasts and his wife is glaring at me. His kids are little enough to seem oblivious to everything. A few teenagers by the slide are laughing and pointing. I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks.

I’m about to tell this little monster that I will kill him if he doesn’t give me back my top when, out of nowhere, someone dives into the pool beside me. The momentum pushes me back in the water, and I have to uncover my breasts to stay afloat.

I notice a look of terror on the kid’s face, and then a look of shock, then a look of awe…as Lincoln emerges from beneath the water like some sort of pool god.

“Hey, kid, do mind giving my friend back her top?” he says to the kid.

“Y-you’re Lincoln Grant,” the kid stammers.

“Yep,” Lincoln says as the kid slowly hands him my bikini top. “Have a good one,” he adds as he takes my top and swims over to me. “I think you may want to put this back on.”

I know now that my face is likely the color of the lifeguard’s red shorts as he comes out of some little hut on the property and looks around to see what’s happening. Lincoln shields me while I quickly tie the top back on and climb out of the pool.

I grab my towel and dry off as I hear the kids excitedly talking about the rock star in the pool. A moment later, Lincoln is at my side.

“You OK?” he asks.

I nod, my face still flushed.

“I gotta go shower,” I mumble as I grab my laptop and hurry back inside, leaving Lincoln standing by the pool watching me.

My mortification slowly eases as I rinse away the chlorine and start to get dressed. I pull on a cute slinky dress that I would have never worn a few years ago, but now it hugs my curves and accents them in the most flattering way. I do my hair and makeup before grabbing my phone and heading toward the door of the suite.

I hear a whistle. “Where are you going, Lark?” Lincoln asks from the sofa.

“Out,” I say to him.

“Wearing that?”

“Yes, wearing this,” I say stiffly.

“Who’s going out with you?” he asks, but before I can answer, he does. “Let me guess, Coop and Mason?”

I shrug. “Have a good night, Lincoln,” I say to him as I leave. I hear him grunt in response as I close the door.

Cooper is waiting in the lobby.

“Damn, you look smokin’ hot!” he says as he kisses my cheek.

“Let’s blow this joint,” I say to him, and he laughs as he offers me his arm.

Lincoln

I sit stewing on the sofa. I don’t like the idea of Lark out with those two troublemakers. I like Coop and Mason, but Lark needs someone to protect her and that is definitely not Coop and Mason’s department. They essentially see her as one of the guys which, from the looks of her in that dress, is confirmed by every penis that glances her way. I have a feeling their friend-zoning of Lark might have something to do with some drunken words I had with them several years ago, but that night is a bit hazy.

My phone buzzes, and I look down to see Kade’s name on my screen. With a sigh, I answer.

“Yep,” I say.

“Let’s go out,” he says cheerfully. I’m not in the mood though.

“I’m working on a song actually, maybe tomorrow,” I add quickly.

“Really? Anything good?” he asks. Truth be told, I have been working on a song, but it’s not ready yet. I’m weird like that. I like to keep my songs to myself until I get them to a certain point, then I play them for Kade and Harry, and we tweak it from there.

I shrug and realize he can’t see me. “Yeah, it’s something,” I say because I’m not sure what else to say. I’ve been having writer's block since Lark left. This is the first song I’ve written in over eighteen months. I mean, I’ve scribbled here and there, but nothing I can use.

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