Page 47 of Chronicles of a Rockin' Mess

“Fuck up what?”

He glances back over at the girls. “You know what,” he adds as he gets a goofy grin on his face. “She’s fucking beautiful, isn’t she?”

I almost launch myself across the small table. Kade whips his head back to face me. He laughs, the motherfucker laughs.

“Not cool,” I snarl.

“Dude, you do have it bad. I mean Savannah, you, asshat.”

“Oh,” I say, and I do feel like a bit of an asshat. I focus back on my lyrics. I tap my pencil against the notepad. I always write in one of those notebooks you use in school. That’s how I started writing, and now it’s my only way to write. I also only use pencils, the kind you have to sharpen. The guys tried getting me fancy journals and fancy pens, but those things just don’t do it for me. I look down at the page. It has some words, some scribbles, some doodling. I doodle a lot when I write. For just an instant, I remember Carrie and the way she used to doodle. She was much better at drawing than I was, but she never rubbed it in. Instead, she would encourage me and show me different drawing techniques. I can’t help wondering what she would have become, what she would have done with her life.

“Hey.” Lark’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

I look up, and I can see her brows are knit together.

“Are you OK?” she asks me.

I nod. “Yep, just thinking.”

“Do you want to go over tomorrow’s schedule?” she asks. “I mean, we can do it later, if you’re busy.”

I hold up a hand and motion for her to take a seat next to me. She complies, and I have to admit that I love the way her bare thigh brushes against my leg. She’s wearing shorts that, in my opinion, are way too short. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from looking down at her silky skin and wishing I could touch it.

She clears her throat, and I look back up at her eyes. Once she knows she has my attention, she launches into all the details for the remainder of the tour. We have a press tomorrow, followed by our show, followed by a meet and greet arranged by a local radio station. Then we have some more press the following morning before we catch a flight back to LA. We have some more press and then the last concert we added back in LA. It’s a lot, and I want to bitch about it, but I know that Gwen likely arranged it all, so there’s no point in arguing with Lark about it.

“OK?” she says once she finishes.

“I guess so.”

“Good, then I’ll confirm things with Gwen and Gary and coordinate with Ellie. Magnolia Tear goes on about two hours before you, so I’ll just make sure you are settled before I head off to warm up with the guys,” she adds. I can hear a mixture of excitement and nerves in her voice. I place my hand on hers.

“You’ll be great,” I say reassuringly.

She sucks in a deep breath. “I hope so.”

“I know so,” I reply, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Thanks,” she murmurs as she gets on her phone and begins to make arrangements. I pretend to work on my latest song, but mostly I listen to her. When it comes to being my PA, she’s confident and strong. I wonder why she can’t seem to muster that same confidence about her singing. There are still so many things I want to know about her, and it’s scaring the shit out of me.

Lark

It’s Mimi I see first.

“Come here, baby girl,” she calls out, her arms open wide. I run to her and throw my arms around her. She squeezes me and kisses my cheek. “You’ve lost weight.”

I grin. “I’ve been working out at the hotels while we are on tour,” I say to her.

“Good for you. Let’s see them muscles?” I flex, and she squeezes my bicep.

“Nice job,” she praises. “Now, let’s go get some breakfast and catch up.”

I glance at my phone. “OK, but it’ll have to be quick. I only have about forty-five minutes before we need to be ready for the first press interview,” I say to her. She nods, and we link arms as we walk toward the small café in the hotel lobby.

We aren’t seated for five minutes before Mimi cuts to the chase.

“So, you tell that fine boy you love him, yet?” she says as she takes a sip of coffee.

I nearly spit my tea all over the table.

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