My eyes bug out of my head. “Wait, you two had an orgy together?” I ask them.
“No, no. Some groupie early on wanted us both, so we gave her us…both,” Harry explains.
I grimace and try not to think about what groupie that was. “Uh, please stop talking now,” I say to them. Harry laughs. Lincoln gives a look that I can’t quite follow.
“Never have I ever cheated on someone,” I say. Everyone drinks but Kade and me. I shake my head in disgust. “Really, guys?” I say to them like a school teacher.
I get a lot of shrugs. I look at Lincoln but he’s looking away from me. I just can’t figure him out, and I’m not sure why I keep punishing myself with my never-ending infatuation with him. He needs to learn to stand on his own two feet. I thought he’d figure that out without me, but now I’m wondering if he did figure things out. He’s different now, at least he’s been acting differently around me.
The game continues on for a while. It gets silly with Coop basically grilling everyone on sexual positions they’ve tried. I bow out and head up to the restroom. There’s a rooftop deck at this bar, and I decide to get some fresh air after drinking way too much. I walk up the stairs and pop out into a quaint area that is way quieter than the bar down below. I walk over to the edge away from a few small groups of people. I recognize a few of them as baseball players. Kent Moore, Ward Snare, and former player, Amery Walsh sit together with a few other people that I don’t recognize. Normally, I’d go over and fangirl, but tonight I don’t feel like it.
The night breeze picks up, and I wrap my arms around myself as I stare out at the stars.
“Cold?” Lincoln’s voice comes from behind me.
“A little,” I admit. He takes off a hoodie he has on over a t-shirt and places it over my shoulders.
“Thanks,” I say quietly. He leans on the railing next to me.
Lincoln
“What are you thinking about up here all by yourself?” I ask Lark as I watch her out of the corner of my eye. I had worried when she didn’t come back to the table right away.
“Just stuff,” she murmurs quietly.
“Such as…,” I prod. She looks over at me.
“Do you really care, Lincoln?”
I feel like an asshole. I’m trying to show her that I’m not an asshole, but I dug such a deep hole for myself, I’m not sure I can ever climb out of it.
“Yes. If I didn’t care, would I be here asking you?” I say as I turn to look at her.
“You’ve changed,” she says softly, so softly I’m not sure if she’s actually said that.
“I’ve changed?”
She nods. “What do you mean?” I ask her, turning and leaning back against the railing with my elbows propped on it.
“You are…different…than before,” she stammers as though grasping for words to explain.
“I’m the same old me,” I say. “You changed.”
She looks down at herself. “Oh, you noticed that,” she says, and I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or serious.
“Lark, a man would have to be blind not to notice that,” I point out to her. She’s clearly happier with herself now, and it shows. She holds her head high. And yes, she lost a few pounds and gained toned muscle. She was clearly working out in New Orleans and not partaking in the food and alcohol. But really, it’s the way she carries herself now. She’s confident and that is sexy as hell.
She sighs. “Men. All they see is a woman’s body,” she mutters, looking back down at her feet. I place a finger under her chin and lift her head, so she’s forced to look at me again.
“I’m not an idiot, I know you’ve lost weight and gotten in shape, but it’s not that,” I blubber as I try to explain. “You’re happier, and it shows.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, contemplating my words, and it makes me nervous and I don’t get nervous.
“I am happier,” she says slowly. “I just never realized it showed…I mean physically showed.”
“It does,” I say to her. She cocks her head to one side as she examines me.
“I guess we’ve both changed.”