Surviving Amber Springs: A Stand-Alone Contemporary Romance

by Siobhan Davis

  “No problem, provided Skeet is down with that.”

  “Oh, I’m down with it.” His flirtatious smile almost knocks me off my feet. “Trust me, this is not a chore.”

  My cheeks heat a little, and he chuckles. “Want something to eat or drink?”

  “Some water would be good.”

  “Gotcha.” He grabs two bottles and shuts the refrigerator door. “Let’s go.” Grabbing my hand with his free one, he pulls me toward a door on the other side of the room. “Take all the time you need, Shaz. There’s no hurry,” he hollers over his shoulder. Shaznay shoots me an “I told ya so” look, giving me a thumbs-up.

  I follow Skeet down to the basement area which has been converted into livable space. The large room is split in two by a folding wall. On this side is a sizable space with a double bed, walk-in closet, desk, couch, TV, and square table. The small door situated by the closet suggests he has his own en suite bathroom too. “This is yours?” I surmise, spinning around as I take it all in. “It’s so cool.”

  Skeet places the bottles down on the table and pulls me loosely into his arms. “I’m glad you like it. I’m lucky I’m the only son and that real estate is in hot demand upstairs. One of us had to relocate down here after my sister Sage came along, and I volunteered.”

  “Do you have any other sisters I don’t know about?”

  “Nope. It’s just the three of us.”

  “Well, you definitely lucked out with this place.”

  “Best decision ever.” He points at a door at the rear. “I even have my own entrance, and the space is large enough that Axel and Heath can crash here if they want to. Plus, there’s an added benefit.” He steers me over to the middle of the room, sliding the folding doors back to reveal the setup on the other side.

  “Holy shit,” I exclaim, my eyes popping wide as I look at all the equipment and instruments. “You’re in a band?”

  “Yep.” His eyes twinkle as he leads me to a small leather couch pushed against the far wall. “Have a seat.” I plonk my butt down as he walks over to the makeshift stage, grabbing one of the guitars propped against a stool. “My dad, Liam, has been in a band for years. When he’s not managing the local hardware store, he’s moonlighting as a musician.”

  Huh. I could’ve sworn Heath said Skeet’s dad was named Chris, but I’m obviously mistaken.

  He grins affectionately. “One of the guys dropped out a couple years ago, and he asked me to step in. I’ve been playing guitar since I was little, and I’ve watched enough of their gigs to know what’s involved, so I said what the heck and went for it. We only play a few times a year, and it’s fun more than anything.”

  “Play something for me?”

  “That’s the plan.” He grins, waggling his brows as he slides the guitar strap over his body. He perches on the edge of the stool. “Any requests?”

  “Do you have any original compositions, or it’s all cover stuff?”

  His foot taps idly off the ground. “We mostly do covers, but we have some of our own stuff too.”

  “Okay, well play me something of yours.”

  He thinks about it for a few minutes, absently strumming the strings of his guitar while I settle into the couch.

  “This one’s called ‘Reckless.’ This is one of mine,” he says before launching into the song. His fingers pluck the strings skillfully as he closes his eyes and belts out the words. I’m mesmerized as I watch and listen. He’s holding nothing back, pouring his heart and soul into the performance, and passion oozes out of every pore. Emotion bleeds from the words, and I can tell they have personal meaning for him. The words, and his hauntingly beautiful voice, reach a hand into my chest, squeezing my heart to the point of pain.

  He sings about giving up and losing your way, about pain and suffering, and he could have written that song for me. For Ethan. Halfway through, he opens his eyes, watching me intently as he finishes the final chorus. The tears pooling in my eyes fall free, gliding silently down my face.

  Quietly, he puts the guitar down and crosses to me. Sitting beside me, he gently cups my cheeks, probing my face with troubled eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  I can scarcely speak over the lump in my throat. “Nothing, it’s just … I really felt the emotion.” I press a hand to my chest. “I felt how heartfelt every word was, and it spoke to me. In ways you couldn’t imagine.”

  His eyes roam my face before he leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “That song’s extremely personal, and I’m glad you felt an emotional connection, but I hate the thought I made you sad. Made you cry.”

  “It’s not a bad thing.” I smile through my fading tears. “You are so talented. I can’t believe you wrote that, and your guitar playing was flawless. And, your voice is, just, wow. Incredible.”

  His features soften, and a proud smile plays over his lips before his eyes lower to my mouth. “Fuck, Blaire.” His voice trembles. “I don’t know how you came to be in Kentsville, but I’m so glad you moved here. I …” He pauses, drawing an exaggerated breath. “I didn’t believe it was possible to fall this fast but you … you make me feel alive. Every second I’m in your presence, I feel an intense connection with you, and when I’m not around you, I’m thinking about you.” He tilts my chin up a little, still maintaining a hold of my face. “Please tell me you feel it too.”

  I do. I feel a connection with him. With all of them. I finally allow myself to acknowledge that. But, in this moment, I can only confirm what I always feel when I’m with him. Although it’s only a partial truth, it’s not a lie. “I feel it, Skeet. I feel a connection with you too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  His lips fuse to mine in a nanosecond, and it takes my heart several beats to catch up to the fact he’s kissing me. A dreamy, fluttering sensation invades my chest, and I melt into him. His arms cradle me to his chest while he deepens the kiss, moving his mouth against mine with skillful caresses.

  Skeet kisses like he sings—with passion and one hundred percent of himself in it. I’m drowning in him, and I don’t ever want to come up for air. He continues to hold my face in his hands while he kisses me, as if I’m some precious commodity. My fingers wind through his messy hair, and he whimpers into my mouth, slanting his lips more firmly against mine.

  “Ahem.” A throat clearing breaks us apart. My heart is careening around my chest like a bull charging around a ring.

  “Sorry to spoil your fun,” Shaznay says, grinning and looking in no way apologetic, “but Mom’s home, and she wants to meet the girl who has finally claimed your heart.”

  My eyes almost bug out of my head, and I splutter.

  “Shaz, quit that shit. You’ll scare Blaire away.” He hauls me protectively into his side.

  “If anyone’s scaring her away, it’s you and your lack of kissing finesse. Seriously, dude, that was gross.”

  “I’m not complaining,” I blurt, feeling the need to defend Skeet’s mad kissing skills.

  He puffs out his chest before pressing a chaste kiss on my lips. “Thanks, baby.” Then he flips his sister the bird. “You clearly know nothing.”

  “Oh, I know plenty. I can give you a graphic rundown if you like?” She smiles demurely while deliberately pressing her brother’s buttons.

  Skeet pulls me to my feet, wrapping his hand around mine like it’s second nature. “Sure, if you want me to kill half the guys in school.”

  Everything locks up inside me, and I freeze on the spot, terror causing my heart to spike to coronary-inducing proportions. I know he’s only joking, but it’s too close to the bone. “You okay?” he asks, his face suddenly creased in concern. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Swallowing back bile, I force a smile on my face and shake my head. “No, don’t mind me. I just kinda zone out of it sometimes.”

  He cups my face again, staring deep into my eyes. “You sure?”

 
; “Yeah. If you must know, I’m just a little anxious meeting your parents, and maybe we should talk first.” While I’m deflecting from the real source of my anxiety, I’m not lying either. I don’t want Skeet parading me in front of his parents as his girlfriend—if that’s what he’s planning—without him knowing I’ve kissed one of his best friends and dreamed about kissing the other one.

  “Give us a minute, Shaz. Tell Mom we’ll be there in a sec.”

  “No problem.” She barely makes a sound as she leaves.

  “Shit, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” he says before I’ve had time to open my mouth.

  “No, it’s just, I’m not really sure what’s happening here.” I look him straight in the eye, and he stares intently back at me.

  “What do you want to happen?”

  “I’m not sure,” I truthfully admit, hating myself the instant the words are out when his face falls. He drops his hands to his side, and I grasp hold of his wrist. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounds. It’s just, I, ah, I kissed Heath last night.” I worry my lip between my teeth while I await his reaction.

  Relief is visibly evident on his face, and I’m even more confused. “I know, and it’s cool.”

  I blink several times, rooted to the spot as his statement swirls around my mind. “It is?” Incredulity drips from my tone.

  “Okay, look, we need to have a serious conversation.” He takes both my hands in his. “Actually, a couple serious conversations, but I know my mom, and if we don’t get our butts up there, she’ll send reinforcements to retrieve us. Can you trust me to tell you everything later?”

  I nod straightaway. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Skeet, it’s that he’s always up front. “Good. Just answer me one thing. Forget about anyone else, for now, and just tell me if you want to be with me.”

  “I do, but—”

  He places his fingers to my lips, silencing me. “No buts, baby. And no one else is involved. For now, this is about you and me. I’m crazy about you, Blaire, and I want to be more than your friend. We can take it slow, or go fast, or however you want it, but do you want that with me? If not now, at some point in the future?”

  That’s easier to respond to. “Yes.”

  He pecks my lips quickly. “Perfect.” My arms encircle his waist as he bundles me up in his embrace. “That’s all that matters right now.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “And don’t worry about my folks. I’ll look after you. Just prepare for it to be crazy, and make a mental note of the questions you want to ask me. I promise I’ll tell you everything after we eat.”

  “Blaire, it’s so lovely to meet you.” A beautiful woman with shoulder-length dark hair advances toward me, the second we step foot in the kitchen, with a wide, welcoming smile. She’s a couple inches shorter than me, but that doesn’t stop her from enveloping me in a warm hug that I feel all the way through to my bones. “I’m Chandra Taylor.”

  “A.k.a. Mom,” Skeet adds, taking my hand again. I seriously think Skeet has OCD when it comes to hand-holding.

  Mrs. Taylor smiles fondly at her son. “I had to pinch myself to ensure it was real when Skeet told me he’d met a girl and he was actually bringing her home.”

  Skeet’s cheeks redden, and it’s so adorably cute. “Can we not do this? You’re making me sound like a total pussy.”

  “That’s two dollars.” A pretty girl with light-brown hair and the same eyes as Skeet’s demands, shoving a clear glass jar stuffed full of dollar bills under his nose.

  “Oh look, it’s the language police.” Skeet tousles her hair before extricating two dollar bills from his pocket and shoving them in the jar. “You’ll bankrupt me one of these days, kid.”

  “I’m not a kid. I’m thirteen.” She draws the word out before poking her tongue out at Skeet. “Practically a grown up.”

  “This is Sage,” Shaz says, coming up beside us. “She’s thirteen going on thirty.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Sage says, ignoring her siblings and thrusting her hand out to me.

  I shake it ’cause it’s the polite thing to do. “Lovely to meet you too.”

  “I can’t believe you like him. Are you sure you don’t need your eyes tested? Or maybe your ears?”

  “Funny, ha, ha.” Skeet messes up the hair on top of her head again, and she shrieks, jerking back out of his reach. “I can’t wait until you start dating. I’m going to give them hell.”

  “Well, if it’s all-out war you want, I guess I’ll just have to share some of my stories with Blaire.” She smiles sweetly at me, like butter wouldn’t melt.

  “Between you, Mom, and Shaz, you’ll scare Blaire away before you get the chance.”

  “I don’t scare easily,” I admit, earning a big grin from Skeet’s mom.

  “Then you’ll fit right in here, honey.” She squeezes my shoulder as an older man enters the room. He’s wearing a suit and tie and carrying a briefcase which he promptly sets down on top of the island unit.

  “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” he says, kissing Chandra on the lips.

  “You’re not,” she tells him. “I lost track of time when I was going over the Landry file, so dinner won’t be ready for a while yet. And Liam and Chris aren’t back from town anyway.”

  “And who is this lovely girl?” he asks, turning his attention to me.

  “She’s Skeet’s girlfriend,” Sage replies before Skeet can get a word in.

  “Ah, so, you’re Blaire.” His eyes wrinkle at the corners when he smiles. “I’m Skeet’s dad Michael. It’s nice to meet you. We all thought you were a figment of Skeet’s overactive imagination.”

  Wow, Skeet must never bring girls home. Though I’m not naïve enough to assume there’s been no girls. Not with his looks and personality. I’m sure he has plenty of offers.

  “You’re all a bunch of fucking comedians today,” Skeet deadpans.

  “That’s another dollar,” Sage gleefully confirms, shoving the jar back under Skeet’s nose.

  “Skeet, can you please make more of an effort with the cussing,” his Mom pleads while walking back to the stove. “Especially when we have a guest for dinner.”

  “It’s okay,” I offer up. “My brother used to cuss up a storm. My parents gave up trying to get him to quit.” The words have vacated my mouth before I’ve had time to question the wisdom of them. I instantly regret them when I see the sorrowful expressions traded around the room. “You told them,” I whisper, gulping as I look sideways at Skeet.

  “Yes. I hope that’s okay? I just didn’t want anyone to say anything and upset you without realizing.”

  “That was thoughtful, thanks,” I croak.

  “We’re so sorry about your brother,” Mrs. Taylor says, walking back over to us. “Skeet said he was your twin?” I nod, smiling sadly. “You must miss him a lot.”

  “I do. It hasn’t been that long, and we, ah, don’t really talk about him that much.” It’s like I just can’t stop blurting stuff out. Perhaps it’s my brain’s way of telling me I need to let out everything I’m keeping locked up inside. But that’s a dangerous path to follow. Once I open the floodgates, who knows what secrets will ooze out?

  “I can’t even begin to imagine how horrific it must’ve been. To watch someone you love go through something like that.” She visibly shivers. “Was he sick for long?”

  And this is the part where my lies come back to bite me. Isn’t that always the way? One lie leads to another and then another, and before you know it, you’re suffocating under the weight of all the lies and struggling to remember exactly which lies you’ve told and to whom. It’s a slippery slope and one I don’t want to fall into.

  Thankfully, Skeet jumps to the rescue, saving me from going there. At least, for now. “I’m sure Blaire didn’t come here for the Spanish Inquisition. Let’s change the subject.”

  “I hope you
like pot roast,” his mom says, switching topics without blinking.

  A layer of stress lifts from my shoulders. “I love pot roast. Can I do anything to help?”

  “It’s sweet of you to offer, but I won’t let any guest lift a finger while they’re here.” Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “Besides, I have two slaves right here!” she quips, gesturing toward her daughters. “And the men are always on cleanup duty.”

  “Christ, it’s freezing out there.” A tall, thin, older man rubs his hands vigorously as he walks into the kitchen, dropping a worn leather jacket on the back of his chair. He looks a bit younger than Michael, or maybe it’s just his ripped jeans, biker boots, and rocker T-shirt make him seem younger than his years. “That smells divine,” he says, walking to the stove and kissing Mrs. Taylor on the lips. “What is it, love?”

  “Your favorite, Liam.” She runs her hand over his cropped hair as he leans in and nuzzles her neck.

  My eyes dart to Michael’s, and he smiles at me as if it’s totally normal for another man to be so openly affectionate with his wife.

  “Yo, Skeet, dude, is this her?” I jerk my head around at the sound of another male voice. A guy with long sandy-colored hair eyes Skeet before switching his gaze to me.

  “Blaire, this is Chris.”

  “Hi,” I squeak, feeling way out of my comfort zone. Who are all these men?

  “You’re way too gorgeous to be involved with this idiot,” Chris jokes, winking at me.

  “Geez, thanks, Dad.” Skeet glares at him. “I’ll be lucky if Blaire’s even speaking to me after today.”

  My gaze is fastened on Skeet, urging him to look at me. What the hell is going on? Skeet just called Chris dad, but Michael had introduced himself as his dad, and Liam is way too affectionate with Skeet’s mom to just be a friend, so I don’t get it.

  “You didn’t fucking tell her, did you? Asshole!” Shaz shouts from across the room.

  “There wasn’t time,” Skeet mumbles.

  “You had time to stick your tongue down her throat!” she shouts back, and I wish the floor would open and swallow me.