Lark (First & Forever 5)

I quickly wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I always cry when I see or hear something truly beautiful. You never want to take me to an art museum, because I cry all the way through them.”

“I understand. Let me think of something more upbeat that I can play for you.”

I asked, “Want me to play something else while you’re thinking?”

“I’d love that.”

I hopped off the bed and launched into an enthusiastic, hip-shaking rendition of “Waterloo.” After I completely rocked it out, Hawk clapped and said, “That was sensational. You really do love ABBA, don’t you?”

“So much. They just make me happy.”

As I climbed back onto the bed, he told me, “I’m going to have to learn to play some of their songs for next time—and I really would love to do this again, if that’s okay with you.”

I was thrilled to hear him say that. “I’d love it, too.”

We traded songs back and forth for maybe half an hour or so. But then I yawned, which made Hawk say, “It’s getting late. We should probably say good night.”

This had been the best night I’d had in a long time, and I really didn’t want it to end. But I didn’t want to seem needy either, so I smiled at the camera and said, “Okay.”

“Thank you for everything. This was the best evening I’ve had in a very long time.” It was surprising to hear him say exactly what I’d been thinking. Then he asked, “Would you like me to play you one more song to help you fall asleep?”

“Yes, please.”

I returned the ukulele to its spot under the bed, shut off the bright ring light, and crawled under the covers. Once I was settled in, Hawk told me, “This is the closest thing to a lullaby that I know. I used to play it for my niece and nephew when I’d babysit them. They’re eleven and thirteen and too cool for everything now, so they think this is unbelievably corny. I like it though, and maybe you will, too.”

He played the most gorgeous instrumental version of “When You Wish Upon a Star,” and when he finished, I whispered, “That was beautiful.”

His voice was soft and gentle when he said, “Good night, Lark. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Sweet dreams.” I reached over to the laptop on my nightstand and tapped a key to wake it up. It was sad to watch the green light in the corner of my screen turn red, which told me Hawk had logged off. He said we’d get to do this again though, and I believed him.

After I logged out too and shut off the camera and all the lights, I found Jeff Goatblum and hugged him to my chest. There was a grin on my face as I began replaying the entire evening, moment by moment.

5

Lark

The next morning, I woke up feeling energized. After a quick shower, I got dressed in my favorite daytime pajamas—flannel with unicorns—and grabbed my laptop. Then I sat on the window seat in my bedroom and pulled up my fan site.

I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment by checking to see if Hawk had messaged me. Even if he really did plan to get in touch, that probably wasn’t going to happen right away. I still had to look, though.

There were a lot of private messages waiting for me, which always happened after I did a live stream. They were all from guys wanting to hook up, including several offering to pay me for sex. It was a short leap in a lot of people’s minds from cam boy to prostitute. All of them got the same polite cut-and-paste response, which basically boiled down to, “Thanks, I’m flattered, but I’m not available to meet in person.”

I was actually really uncomfortable with the idea of meeting up with random strangers and having sex with them. Despite what I did for a living, I wasn’t interested in getting paid for it, either. I needed to feel safe with someone if I was going to let them fuck me, and the only way that happened was by taking the time to get to know each other. That wasn’t what any of these guys wanted, though. They were just after a quick, no strings attached hook-up, and I wasn’t into that.

I scrolled through my in-box one last time after sending all my replies, but the one guy I actually wanted to hear from hadn’t messaged me. While I debated contacting him myself instead of waiting and hoping, a new message popped up on my screen, and a huge smile spread across my face.

Hawk had written: Hey. I wanted to thank you again for last night. I had a great time.

I responded right away, in the hope that he was still online: I did too, and I’m happy to hear from you!

A few seconds later, another message appeared: Wow, thank you for that very quick reply! What are you up to?

I wrote: Literally nothing. I just got up a little while ago and am sitting here being very lazy. What about you, what’re you up to?

Hawk answered: I’m on my way to the parking garage. I need to take my truck to the carwash, and then I’m having brunch with my parents.

I sent back: Sounds good. I should let you go, but let’s chat soon.