Surviving Amber Springs: A Stand-Alone Contemporary Romance
Page 18
We make out like demons in the back row, groping each other in a way that proves we’re both hot for one another.
“Want to come back to my place for a while?” Heath asks as he bundles me up in his arms when we leave the theater.
“Won’t your parents mind?” It’s after eleven thirty already.
“They’re at a party. Won’t be home till late, and my younger brother and sister will be tucked up in bed by now.”
“Okay then. I can stay for a little while.” I send Mom a quick text in case she’s wondering where I am. She knew about my date with Heath, but she’s probably expecting me home soon.
This is my first time at Heath’s house, and my jaw hits the floor as we pull up in front of ornate gates, fronting a massive, modern two-story property. It’s all glass and wood, and it looks super stylish. “Wow, what did you say your dad did again?” I ask as Heath pulls into a wide garage, parking alongside a sleek, silver Aston Martin. Another new SUV is parked beside it, and a red sporty number completes the collection.
“He owns his own engineering company. They won a couple of massive contracts a few years back that set them on the map, and my parents bought this place after that. Before that, we lived five houses up from Skeet.”
“That’s impressive,” I add, climbing out of the car.
Heath takes my hand, leading me into the house through a side door. “Dad’s firm is the number one engineering company in the state now,” he proudly declares.
“Are you expected to take over when you’re older?”
He nods, leading me into the kitchen and making a beeline for the refrigerator. “You want something?” he asks with his head in the fridge.
“Water, thanks.” He takes out a couple bottles of water and some strange red concoction. “What’s that?” I ask, scrunching my nose up.
“One of my shakes. I didn’t consume enough calories today.”
“Ah. Of course.” The guys were right. Heath is diligent.
He guides me to a large room at the side of the house, and we flop down beside one another on a long couch. He flicks on the TV, handing me my water. I watch, mesmerized as he knocks back the contents of his shake in three steady gulps before washing it down with water. The way his throat works is sexy as hell. Add his rippling muscles to the package and my libido is suddenly wide awake. He glances at me, grinning when he notices my expression. Pinning me with a heated look, he wiggles his fingers at me. “Come closer, baby.”
I set my bottle down and crawl into his lap. His lips instantly seal to mine, and I kiss him back with the same fervor, wrapping my arms around his muscular arms and up over his shoulders to his neck. My fingers rub across the velvety-smooth hairs at his nape, and he groans into my mouth, deepening the kiss while rocking his hips into mine. I reposition myself so I’m straddling him, and he takes advantage, his hand creeping under my sweater and shirt, caressing the bare skin of my back.
“Heath,” I whisper, against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.
“You feel so good,” he whispers back as his hands start climbing. I thrust my crotch against him, and he pushes back, hardening against me and elevating my desire another couple of levels.
When his hand cups my breast through my bra, and he starts kneading my sensitive flesh, I cry out, rocking against him with more urgency.
“Heath? What on earth is going on here?” a deep masculine voice demands, and I jerk back with a shriek. My cheeks instantly flare up as I look at the well-dressed man and woman staring at us in horror.
Heath pales, lifting me off him and helping to straighten my clothing. I don’t say a word, waiting for him to set the lead. “This is Blaire,” he says. “She’s new to town.”
I smile awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Gilchrist.”
“It’s late,” his mom snaps, and I balk at her tone and the derision on her face. “I think it’s time your guest went home.”
Heath nods curtly. “I’ll drop Blaire home.”
“I’d like a quick word please, son,” his father says. “My wife will show you out, Blaire.” He offers me a small smile that seems genuine. “Welcome to town.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I don’t look at Heath as I follow his mother out of the room. She walks slightly ahead of me, not uttering a word. But her steely spine and the frigid air swirling around us is enough to tell me all I need to know.
And I get it.
They think Heath’s with Cassie and I’m some slut on the side. I wish that didn’t bother me so much. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this relationship, so I’ve no right to complain now.
The second we reach the garage, she spins around, facing me with a furious expression. “I don’t know what your game is, young lady, but you need to stay away from my son. He’s in a serious relationship.” She looks me up and down. “And it’s clear he’s only after one thing with you.”
Pain stabs me through the heart, and my stomach twists into knots at her insinuation. I want to retaliate, but I don’t know how to respond without getting Heath into trouble, so I say nothing, staring at the ground and wishing it could swallow me alive.
“Here.” She shoves her cell in my face, and another pain slices across my chest. “This is my son’s girlfriend, his future wife. See how happy they are?” I stare at the photos of Cassie and Heath with a sick feeling in my stomach. The date stamp clearly indicates it was the dinner from last week. Not only does Heath have his arms draped all over Cassie, but he’s kissing her too.
A myriad of emotions assaults me from all sides, and I’m momentarily tempted to tell her the truth. But that’s only hurt talking, so I do what I do best, keep my lips sealed, trapping the truth inside.
“Mom!” Heath shouts from behind me. “What are you doing?”
She jerks her chin upright. “I’m just educating your little slut.”
“Mother!” Shock splays across his face. “Blaire is not a slut, and please don’t speak to her like that.” He shakes his head in disgust. “If you must know, she’s my—”
“Can you please take me home now.” I deliberately cut him off. “I want to go home.”
“Goodbye, Blaire.” Mrs. Gilchrist’s tone is like ice. “And in case I wasn’t clear, you’re not welcome in my home. Leave my son alone. He’s already spoken for.”
“Mom!” Heath looks disgusted. “I won’t allow you to treat Blaire like that. No matter what you think you know, you’re mistaken. You don’t have all the facts.”
She walks right up to her son, jabbing his chest with her finger. “I know this is my home, and I make the rules. That slut is not to step foot in my house again. And don’t you dare speak to me like that. Don’t test me, Heath. I’m warning you.”
She holds my gaze for another few seconds before striding off, her stiletto heels making a clackety-clack sound on the granite floor.
“Blaire, I’m so sor—”
“Can we please leave. Now.” I round the car, grabbing the passenger door handle and climbing inside.
“Blaire, please. Don’t be like this,” he says, sitting behind the wheel but facing me. “This is all my fault, and I’m so, so sorry. She had no right to speak to you like that, and I’m sorry she upset you.”
I harrumph. While I didn’t like being spoken down to like that, his bitch of a mom isn’t the reason I’m struggling to keep my tears at bay. That’s all on Heath.
“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he continues, “but they’re never home before two from these things. I honestly thought it was safe.”
“Please drive,” I say, talking to the window. I can’t look at his face. In this moment, I don’t trust a single word that comes out of his mouth.
“Baby, please.”
Fire blazes in my eyes as I pin my angry gaze on him. “Don’t call me baby. I don’t wa
nt to hear any more of your lies. Just drive me home.”
“I know you’re mad, but—”
“You don’t know how I feel, so stop pretending like you know me.” I fish my cell out of my bag. “Either drive me home or I’m calling Axel to come get me.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “That won’t be necessary.” The engine purrs to life. “I’ll drive you home.”
We don’t speak again until we reach my house. We both sit there in the dark, fuming.
“I’ll tell them the truth. I’ll tell them you’re my girlfriend,” he says, breaking the silence.
“But am I?”
“What does that mean?”
“You know what it means,” I hiss. “Don’t play me for a fool.”
“Look, I don’t know exactly what my mom said, but it’s not true. And I’m sorry for how she treated you. I’d like to say it’s because of the misunderstanding, but it’s not. Mom’s a snob, and she has very set ideas for my future.”
I grip my bag close to my chest, fighting angry tears. “I get it. I’m not good enough for her precious son, but that manipulative bitch is.”
I move to get out, but he reaches over, pulling the door shut again. “Blaire, please don’t leave like this. I’ll fix this, I promise.”
I turn the full extent of my rage on him. “How? You can’t exactly un-kiss Cassie now, can you?”
He pales again. “What?”
“Don’t even try to deny it. I saw the photos.”
He wets his lips, and his chest heaves. Guilt splays across his face. “I know it looks bad, but I can explain.”
I harrumph. “Ya think?” Sarcasm is thick in my tone.
“I didn’t want to kiss her, I swear, but I was backed into a corner. Mom wanted some photos of us, and both sets of parents were teasing us to kiss. They would’ve smelled a rat if I didn’t do it.”
I shove his arm away. “Whatever, Heath.” I get out of the car. “I don’t know what sick and twisted game you’re playing, but I want no part of it. I shouldn’t have agreed to this, so I guess I’m partly to blame, but I’m out now.” I slam the door shut and walk briskly toward my front door.
Heath races after me, grabbing my elbow. “What do you mean, you’re out now?”
“I mean we’re finished. I never should’ve gotten involved with you in the first place. All it’s done is bring Cassie down on me. If she wants you that badly, she can have you.” I wrest my arm free. “Just leave me the hell alone.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
My mood hasn’t improved by the following morning, but I’m not sorry I spoke my mind. I won’t be played for a fool. I’m sickened at the thought of Heath kissing Cassie behind my back. Oh, how she must have gloated over that. And even though Heath defended me to his mom, her vitriol still hurts, prodding at festering wounds that never fully heal.
I was a fool to think this would work. I’m not equipped to deal with the drama. The plan was to come here and lay low. Not to invoke more unwanted attention. I let stupid fantasies fill my head instead of focusing on reality. There’s no reality where me being in a relationship with three guys will ever work out. Public scrutiny and my past will always be the obstacle in my path. Cutting people out of my life is the only way to survive the fallout from Amber Springs. My hormones and my heart might have forgotten the memo, but my brain needs little reminding.
I’m not surprised to see Skeet waiting for me outside. I knew either him or Axel would show up this morning. “I’m taking my mom’s car today, so I don’t need a ride,” I say before he can speak.
“Let me drive you. Please. We need to talk.”
I sigh. “I know, but I can’t do this now. I have to get to work.”
“At least let me pick you up after your shift, and we can go somewhere to talk.”
“I’m in a shitty mood, Skeet, and I just need some time.”
“We don’t want to lose you.” His eyes plead with me, and all I want is to collapse into his arms and let him comfort me, but I can’t.
“I’ll talk to you later.” I brush past him and climb into Mom’s car, reversing out of the drive and leaving him standing, looking all forlorn, on the sidewalk.
I stay locked in my shell at work, focusing on my tasks and keeping myself busy so I don’t think about the three guys who are a permanent fixture in my mind. Jacinta notices, asking me if I need to talk about anything, but I downplay it, plastering fake smiles on my face every time she inquires. My jaw actually hurts from all the fake smiling by the time my shift draws to a close.
For the first time, no one is waiting for me outside the store, and my stomach tightens in pain, which is stupid because it’s what I told them I wanted. I’m such a hot mess right now. I told Heath we were done, and I told Skeet this morning I needed space, so I have no right to feel pissed at the fact no one showed up tonight.
The house is bathed in darkness, and deathly quiet, when I arrive home, much like my mood. I take a quick shower and change into my pajamas. Grabbing a tub of ice cream and a spoon, I sprawl along the couch with a blanket covering me, while I binge-watch Vampire Diaries for the millionth time. But even Damon and Stefan Salvatore can’t rouse me from my rotten mood.
I give up trying, crawling into bed at ten, snatching my cell up every ten minutes to check for new messages that never arrive. Pain lodges in my throat, and tears linger at the back of my eyes. My heart is heavy as I glance at the picture on my bedside table. Ethan’s beautiful smiling face mocks me from the photo, and the tears fall free, streaming down my face.
“Why, E?” I whisper, running my finger across the image of his face. “Why did you have to leave me? I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this without you.” A shuddering sob rings out in the empty room. “You were always my better half, and now I’m just sinking.” I continue talking to the photo, while rubbing my hand across my chest, attempting to ease the piercing pain spearing me from the inside. “I don’t know what to do, and I need you. I need you to tell me what to do. To tell me everything’s going to be okay even if it’s not.” My tears transform to full-blown sobs. “Even if it’s a lie, I need to hear it.” I flip onto my back, clutching the photo frame to my chest, staring through blurry eyes at the ceiling. “Please, E. If you’re there, please give me a sign. Please help me. I need you.”
I’m well aware of how pitiful I am, staring into the dark, appealing to my brother’s ghost to appear. It’s how I spent every night the first couple months after he died. Begging him to show up. To haunt me. I’d take him any way I could get him. I’ve heard stories, watched movies, and read books where loved ones showed up after death, and I silently begged for it to be real. But maybe my previous cynicism worked against me. Because my brother’s ghost never appeared, and I stopped clinging to falsehoods.
The fact I’m back in that space isn’t a good sign. Nor is the fact I strip off my pajamas, redressing in one of Ethan’s old shirts, crying harder when the faint masculine smell tickles my nostrils, my brother’s scent still clinging to the fabric even though he’s no longer here. I ball up into a fetal position, hugging the photo to my chest as I cry myself to sleep.
A subtle tap-tap rouses me from sleep very early the next morning. Confused, I sit up, looking around the semi-dark room. The noise sounds again, and I swing my legs out of bed, placing the photo on top of the comforter. My hands are stiff from holding it all night, and I curl and uncurl my fingers as I walk to the window, pulling the drapes aside.
Axel is perched, rather precariously, on the thickest branch of the old tree that rests alongside my bedroom window, gesturing for me to let him in. Shaking off my shock, I open the window and help him inside. He’s dressed in his running gear, his hair hidden behind a snug hat.
“How the hell did you scale that tree?”
“It wasn’t without challenge.” He smirks, looking pleased with himself.
He shrugs, smiling, like it’s a compliment. “You didn’t answer my text, and I didn’t want to ring the bell so early in the morning.”
“You could’ve just run alone.”
He pins me with an earnest stare. “I like running with you.” His eyes drop lower, raking up and down my bare legs. “And something tells me you need the physical exertion today.” Axel mustn’t have received the “give Blaire space” memo. Or he’s choosing to ignore my directive, which is more his modus operandi. His eyes move up my body. “Nice shirt. I love Reckless Scary Bastards.”
“Ethan loved them too,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around my body, feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“Hey.” Carefully, he inches toward me. “I’ll go if you really want to be alone.”
“Don’t go,” I whisper, failing to make eye contact for fear of what I’ll reveal.
He closes the gap between us, reeling me into his arms. Warmth seeps from his body to mine, chilling some of the newly frozen parts. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, resting his chin on my head. We stay like that for a few minutes until a huge shiver rocks my body, and I’m trembling in his arms. “You cold?” he inquires, tipping my face up, and I nod.
“Could you … could we just lie in bed for a while?” I peek up at him, and all I see is empathy in his eyes. “Could you just hold me?”
Without uttering a word, he takes my hand, leading me back to the bed. He tucks me under the covers and moves to get in alongside me, faltering when he spots the photo tossed on top of the comforter. His eyes flit to mine, and I’m sure he sees the panic there.
What if he recognizes Ethan?
His picture was splashed everywhere for weeks after the shooting. But it’s too late. Axel is staring at the photo of me and Ethan, our arms wrapped around each other. “Wow. You both look so alike.” Kicking off his shoes, he climbs into bed, instantly opening his arm for me. I snuggle into his side, scarcely breathing. Axel clutches the photo frame in his free hand. “Why does he look familiar?” His brow puckers, and I damn near have a coronary.