Surviving Amber Springs: A Stand-Alone Contemporary Romance

by Siobhan Davis

  “Good plan,” Zara confirms, walking with urgency toward the parking lot. We follow her to Kenzie’s brand-spanking-new SUV, clambering inside.

  I lean my head against the side of the window, as Kenzie gets us out of there.

  “You okay?” Kylie inquires, her voice laced with concern.

  “I’m feeling a bit lightheaded is all.” Then I remember my cell. “Shoot. We have to go back. I left my cell.”

  “I have it.” Kylie extracts my cell from her purse, handing it to me. “The screen’s all smashed, I’m afraid.”

  “Damn it. Dad’ll freak out. That’s the second iPhone I’ve ruined this year.” Dad won’t let me run without bringing my cell, so Jensen created this cool arm strap thingy for my phone. Except the prototype wasn’t that robust, and my cell slipped out of the strap while I was running, smashing into smithereens on the road. I had to grovel for a replacement. Dad’s old school, and he’s brought me up to respect the value of money. I only got a new cell because I performed extra chores around the house and the farm to pay for it and because Dad doesn’t like me going anywhere without a means of contacting them.

  My parents have always been super-protective of me. They adopted me late in life, and I’m their only child, so they have a tendency to overreact, at times. Especially when it comes to my safety. I don’t know how they’re going to cope when I leave for the University of Michigan in the fall.

  “Maybe wonder-boy can invent a foolproof non-breakable cell,” Zara says with a smirk, in nod to my boyfriend’s inventor-genius mind.

  “Wouldn’t that be something,” I muse, trying to clear the fog now clouding my mind.

  “Think of how filthy rich you’d be,” Kylie adds, winking.

  “Only if she gets a ring on it,” Kenzie retorts, parking the SUV in front of Olive Garden.

  “Everyone knows that’s only a formality,” Kylie says, scoffing. “Tori is Jensen’s forever girl.”

  Even with my wonky vision, I don’t miss the look of devastated envy on Kenzie’s face or Zara’s eye roll.

  We’re seated at a table by the window, at the back of the restaurant, munching on breadsticks, and I’m feeling sicker with every passing second. My head is swimming, my vision is all blurry, and I’m having trouble focusing on anyone or anything. A sharp stabbing pain pierces my skull, and I cry out, dropping my head into my hands.

  “Tori? You okay?” Kylie asks.

  “Need the restroom,” I mumble, scrambling to my feet. My legs threaten to go out from under me, and my head is in excruciating pain. It’s like someone is prodding my skull with a million tiny pinpricks. I stumble through the restaurant, crashing into things, apologizing profusely to the faceless people I brush past until Kylie takes my arm, guiding me the rest of the way.

  “What the hell is going on, Tori?”

  I can’t distinguish her facial features, but I hear the worry in her tone. “I wish I knew.” I make it into the cubicle in time, hurling into the toilet bowl as the contents of my stomach make an unwelcome reappearance. Tiny zap-like tremors ricochet up and down my arms and legs, and I slump to the floor, curling into a fetal position as my body convulses and spasms.

  Kylie cusses, crouching down over me and placing her hand on my forehead. “Crap. You’ve got a fever.”

  I reach a hand out, gripping her arm, as an intense tremor takes control of my body, moving in short, sharp, pulsing vibrations as it travels up and down my limbs, causing me to contort manically on the floor. Blood thunders in my ears, and my heart is beating fast, too fast, as if it’s preparing to take flight. I cry out, still flailing on the floor and clinging to Kylie’s arm for support. My heart is going crazy, pumping ferociously, pounding and pounding behind my ribcage, building in speed and intensity, and I’m terrified I’m dying.

  A red haze seeps across my vision, coating my retinas in a scary blood-red blanket, and I scream. Strange images land in my mind, superfast and fleeting, like a movie reel playing on hyper-fast-forward in my head, but I’m in too much physical pain to latch on to them or to even worry about what they are or what they mean.

  “We need to get you home,” Kylie proposes. She slides her arm underneath me, and I wrap my arms around her neck, allowing her to pull me upright. I lean against the side of the cubicle, panting profusely, my body still shuddering and shaking. Beads of sweat have formed on my brow, and my sweater and jeans are glued to my body. Kylie hands me some toilet paper, and I wipe my mouth and dab the moisture on my forehead.

  “You must have a bug,” she deduces, looking at me with a frown. “And a nasty one at that.”

  I can only nod, trying to blink the red haze from my eyes as she ushers me out of the bathroom.

  Although Kylie’s propping me up, I’m still stumbling everywhere, garnering more unwanted attention from the other diners. My stomach drops, and my limbs start jerking violently, while the red coating on my eyes darkens to black. There’s an odd buzzing noise in my head, growing louder and more insistent. A burst of images and voices clouds my mind, and I’m hot all over. My vision turns completely black, and I can’t see a damn thing. My panic meter is cranked to the max, and my heart is pounding scarily in my chest.

  What the hell is happening to me?

  That strange electrical sensation from earlier is back, and I scream, shucking Kylie off and dropping to my knees on the floor.

  An odd thought pops into my mind, and it’s the last thing I remember before I black out.

  It’s going to be okay. They’re coming.

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  Emotional, Angsty, Friends-to-Lovers, Second-Chance Romance – Standalone

  Gabby

  Looking back, I should have seen the signs. Perhaps I did, but I subconsciously chose to ignore them.

  From the time I was ten, when I first met Dylan, I knew he was my forever guy. Back then, I couldn’t put words to what I was feeling, but, as the years progressed, I came to recognize it for what it was—soul-deep love. The kind only very few people ever get to experience. Dylan was more than just my best friend, my childhood sweetheart, my lover. He was my soul mate. We were carved from the same whole—destined to be together forever. Until he changed. And I believed I was no longer good enough. Until he shattered me so completely, it felt like I ceased to exist. And I’d never experienced such heart-crushing pain. Until he leveled me a second time, and I truly wanted to die. But I had to stay strong because I wasn’t alone in this cruel twist of fate. I look to the sky, pleading with the stars, begging someone to tell me what I should do because I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to cope when my forever has changed, and I can’t help wondering if I had seen the signs earlier, if I’d pushed him, would it have been enough to save us? Or had fate already decided to alter our forever? Download from Amazon now.

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  When Forever Changes – Sample

  Chapter One

  Gabby

  Six months earlier—start of sophomore year in college

  “A bunch of us are heading to the frat party later. Want to come with?” Myndi asks as we make our way out of the building on Friday after our last class of the day.

  “Thanks for the invite, but I’ve already got plans.”

  She smiles knowingly at me, her green eyes twinkling. “Let me guess? With a certain hot, rich, tech nerd who worships the ground you walk on?”

  I grin. “Yep. It’s our four-year anniversary, so Dylan is taking me out to dinner to celebrate.”

  “Aw, he’s so romantic. You’ve definitely got yourself a good one, Gabby.”

  “I know. I’m really lucky to have found my person. I can’t ever imagine my life without him in it.”

  Sticking her fingers in her mouth, she makes a gagging sound. La
te afternoon sun glints off the red undertones in her hair, highlighting her natural beauty. Myndi’s genuine personality and laid-back manner completes the perfect package. Travis was a damn fool for cheating on her. But it’s most definitely his loss.

  And my bestie has had no shortage of offers since we returned to campus from summer break a couple weeks ago.

  “Too cheesy?” I’m still grinning as I say it. Nothing can put a dent in my good mood today. Not even the mammoth assignment Prof Brown just handed us.

  “Definitely, but you own that, girl, and feel proud! Dylan’s the catch of the century, and if you weren’t my bestest friend in the entire universe, I might feel jealous.”

  I loop my arm in hers as we walk through campus. Glorious sunshine beats down on us, and it feels good to be alive. “Your Prince Charming is out there too, waiting to be claimed.” I had thought Travis might be the one, but after the shit he pulled, it’s clear I was mistaken. “I still can’t believe Travis cheated on you with that skank. He was so devoted last year.”

  My bestie shrugs, but she can’t disguise the flash of hurt glimmering in her eyes. “Neither can I, but I guess I never really knew him at all. Everything he said to me was a bare-faced lie.”

  “Let’s schedule a girl’s night for next week,” I suggest. “Just you and me. We can grab dinner and a movie or hang out at my place. I’ll kick Dylan out for the night.”

  Myndi and I met our first week of freshman year, and we’ve been pretty much joined at the hip since then. We’re both studying nursing, so we spend every day together, and when she started dating Travis last year, double dates became a regular occurrence.

  Travis and Dylan were close, until Travis did the unthinkable over the summer and Myndi kicked him to the curb. Now, Dylan refuses to return Travis’s calls, and I admire his loyalty to my friend—as if I need additional reasons to adore my long-term boyfriend and childhood sweetheart.

  “That’d be great, but I don’t want to kick Dylan out of his own condo. We’ll just ban him to the bedroom and commandeer the living room.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  A shrill whistle pierces my eardrums, and I look up as my name is called. My brother, Ryan, waves from across the street. He’s in his running gear, and, judging by the hair plastered to his forehead, I’m guessing he’s on the return route of his daily jog. He sprints across the road with a certain look on his face. One I’ve seen way too many times to count.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he says, all but ignoring me as he grins seductively at my friend. Very slowly, he peruses the length of her body, licking his lips and folding his muscular arms across his torso. Myndi’s chest visibly heaves as she returns the eye-fuck, and I know it’s time to stop this train wreck from happening.

  I punch Ryan in the arm.

  Hard.

  “Ow!” Rubbing his arm, he scowls at me. “What the fuck was that for?”

  “Quit with the sleazy ‘come fuck me’ looks. Myndi is my best friend so that means she’s off limits to the likes of you.” I prod my finger in his solid chest to drill my point home. And it’s not the first time I’ve had to issue a warning. He’s been after her since last year. Although he’d never make a move on any girl in a relationship, now that Myndi and Travis are no more, he seems to have made it a mission to get her underneath him.

  As much as I love my brother, and I truly adore him, he’s a complete manwhore, leaving a trail of broken hearts all over campus. If I thought his intentions were serious, and that Myndi was into it, I wouldn’t stand in their way, but I don’t want to see her hurt. And I don’t want things to become awkward. Even though Ryan, Slater, and their crew are seniors, we still hang with them a lot, and if Ryan treated Myndi like one of his “girls,” things would definitely get messy.

  “You’re lucky you’re my favorite sister,” he grumbles, shoving my finger away.

  I purse my lips and narrow my eyes. “I’m your only sister.”

  “Exactly.” He smirks, and I roll my eyes.

  “Myndi has just had a bad breakup and the last thing she needs is Mr. One-night Stand hitting on her.”

  He slams a hand over his chest, feigning upset. “You slay me, little sis. Such cruel words.”

  “Don’t even try to deny it. There’s a running roll call of your conquests on the wall in the girls’ restroom.” A sour taste fills my mouth. “And that is not something I should ever have to see.” I’m not confirming it’s a list of the hottest guys on campus with each girl rating their skills on a scale of one to ten. Or the fact he and Slater are more than holding their own at the top of the list. Ugh. A sister does not need to know this stuff.

  He puffs out his chest, and his lips curl up at the corners. “Can’t help it if the ladies love what I’m offering.” He shoots us a smug grin. “It’s all in the James’ genes. You’d know it if you hadn’t attached yourself to Woods when you were still in diapers.”

  I smack his chest this time. “I was fifteen when Dylan and I first started going out. Asshat.”

  “Does Woods know you get off on beating up defenseless men?” He grabs his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Or is that the standard he’s used to?”

  I fist my hands into knots, working hard to quell the urge to thump him again. “Ugh. You are so freaking annoying. Thank God, it’s your last year here.”

  Quick as a flash, he grabs me into a headlock, messing up my hair. “Don’t be mean, Tornado. You know you’ll miss your favorite brother.”

  Ryan started calling me Tornado when I was about five after my propensity to race around the place, blowing in and out of rooms like a tornado. I’ve always had an abundance of restless energy, and it’s why you’ll rarely find me lounging around doing nothing. I like to keep active. The only exception is sleep. I love my bed and enjoy sleeping late, but once I’m up and out in the world, I’m always on the go.

  I aim a punch toward his gut, but he snatches my wrist and effortlessly lifts me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I hate being the smallest in my family and the fact all three of my brothers use that to their advantage when it suits them.

  “Put me down, Randy Ryan,” I yell, balling my hands into fists and pummeling his back. Ryan hates that name, and I love throwing it out to piss him off. The girls in high school gave him the label, and it stuck, much to his disgust. Especially when Sexy Slater rubbed his much cooler nickname in his face. My brother’s best friend was a permanent fixture around our house growing up, so I’ve spent years listening to them winding one another up. Slater’s practically a surrogate James.

  Especially in the last year.

  A pang of sorrow slams into me, but Ryan derails my emotions when he swats my butt, dragging me back into the moment. “Hitting is not nice, Gabby. Mom and Dad would be so disappointed to realize their little baby girl is a wannabe Katie Taylor.”

  “Neither is screwing girls, making them fall in love with you, and then ignoring them, but you don’t see me running to the folks like a big blabbermouth.” I wriggle aggressively in his hold, and he relents, finally letting me down. I move to punch him in the gut again, but I’m only messing around. When he holds his hands up in a defensive stanch, I grab his face and smack a loud kiss on his cheek instead. “Love you, little big bro.”

  I’m the youngest in our family, and Ryan is the youngest of my big brothers, and we’re the closest in age so, naturally, we formed the closest bond. When I was a kid, I used to call him little big bro, and it’s kinda stuck over the years.

  He slings his arm around my shoulder, kissing my temple. “Love you too, little sis. Always.”

  “You two are legit crazy,” Myndi says, and I hear the amusement in her tone. “How the hell did anyone survive living in a house with the two of you?”

  “We mostly just ignored them,” a familiar deep masculine voice says from behind. I brush knotty strands of blonde hair back
off my face and grin at my pseudo-brother.

  “Sup, bruh?” Ryan greets Slater with a loud slap on the shoulder.

  “I’m heading to Lil Bob for a workout before the party tonight.”

  My eyes drift over Slater, noticing the new tatt on his left arm and the rippling biceps stretching tight under his formfitting shirt. Slater has always enjoyed working out, but since his Mom passed six months ago, he’s become a little obsessed. He’s a permanent fixture at the sports facility the students have christened “Lil Bob.” I guess it’s part of his coping mechanism, and I’ll never criticize him for that. Just thinking about his mom brings tears to my eyes, so I can only imagine how he must feel.

  Noticing my lingering gaze, he arches a brow, and I blurt the first words to land in my brain. “You cut your lovely hair.”

  His lips curl up at one corner. “Not since the last time we met. Your observational skills suck, Belle.”

  Slater is the only one to call me that. I was obsessed with Beauty and the Beast when I was little, and Slater used to tease me saying I wanted to be Belle for access to the library. But he was only partly right. I did daydream about being Belle, but I was no different than any young girl my age, and I wanted to be her for the prince. Not the books! Anyway, the name stuck, and Slater has called me Belle ever since. Ryan prefers Tornado, Mom insists on using my full name, and Dad always calls me Buttercup. Most everyone else calls me Gabby. Dylan and I have pet names for one another, chosen when we were kids before either of us fully realized what we would become.

  Some girls might hate being known by so many names, but it’s always made me feel special.

  I stick out my tongue, and Slater laughs.

  “I swear your haircut must have its own Twitter profile by now,” Ryan supplies, mock scowling. “If I see one more tweet about how hot Slater Evans is with his buzz cut, I’m gonna puke.” He punches Slate in the shoulder. “It’s good to know at least one girl is immune to your charms.”