For a million reasons, that doesn’t lend me a shred of comfort. When it comes to Debby and John Cunningham, guarantees don’t exist. One minute things are cool and the next it’s fucking raining fire in the form of word bullets. Silence mantles the air as we all sip our drinks, prepping ourselves for a long night.
“Thanks for coming, Brittany,” Amber pipes up, breaking the tension.
“Yeah, of course.” She nudges my shoulder, a smirk painting her face. “I couldn’t leave this one on his own, especially with our parents. He’d shit his pants.”
I chuckle, thankful I have Brit. We don’t see each other often, but when we do it’s always easy. We share a connection, a true understanding. She gets the guilt I carry over our brother’s disappearance. She doesn’t agree with it, but she doesn’t fight me on it either. She knows it’s something I have to make peace with on my own. If ever.
“We should probably go,” Amber says, pointing to the time on the big screen. “They’ll all be waiting in the lobby by now.”
Defenses flaring, I stand and slam the rest of my drink back, hating my parents for actually showing up as I chuck a few Benjamins on the bar.
Amber throws her arm around my shoulder, her boner-inducing whisper filled with challenge as she leans into my ear. “Quit being a pussy. Let’s get this over with so you can fuck my brains out when we get back to your place. Sound good?”
Gotta love a bad girl.
I weave my fingers through her hair, shifting her face to mine. “Be careful, Ber, you’re testing my restraint.” I smirk and watch a swallow work the slender column of her throat, her breath catching as I press my lips to her ear, making sure Brit can’t hear. “You keep that up, and I’ll be doing a lot more than fucking that sweet pussy. I’ll light up that pretty ass.”
Her eyes flare with arousal, a flush coloring her cheeks as she pushes me away. A laugh rolls from my chest as I slap the sexy ass I just threatened. The sexy ass I will teach a lesson to later.
Brit shakes her head, and we move into the lobby, my gaze connecting with Cathy and Mark, who are seated on a sofa, waiting. I tense in anticipation. I’m almost afraid to look for my parents, but after a quick scan of the area I find them standing on the opposite side of the room, their arms crossed in aggravated impatience.
Brit turns to us. “I’m gonna go grab the nutters.”
I nod and we make our way over to Amber’s foster parents. Cathy spots us and jolts up, a smile beaming on her face.
“You guys ready to go?” Amber asks, glancing across the room at my family.
“Yes, I’m starving,” Cathy chirps, grabbing her purse off the floor.
Blood rushing to my head, my muscles tighten. My mother’s attention is aimed in my direction. However, I can’t tell if she’s staring at me, at Amber, or off into fucking space. Black Jackie Kennedy–style sunglasses frame her face, obstructing me from being able to decipher who she’s looking at. My defenses surge, my heart rocking my limbs as my fists involuntarily clench at my sides. The sunglasses are a bad omen. End of story: she’s halfway to lit up, a few more sips of alcohol sending her into the beyond-tanked zone.
My father and mother make for us, my sister following a step behind as they approach. I square my shoulders, a strained smile slipping across my face. “Hey, Dad. Thanks for coming.”
My father grips my hand in a firm shake, his expression stoic as always. “Good to see you, son.”
I glance at my mother, forcing my words. “Mom, you look . . . well.”
She tips her head in acknowledgment, not a single response directed at me.
Releasing a taut breath, I shift my attention to Amber and her family. “Cathy, Mark, and Amber, these are my parents, John and Debby.”
After formal bullshit’s exchanged, Amber’s eyes dance over mine, a small smile tumbling across her expression as she clasps my hand in hers. That tiny gesture alone is all the comfort I need to keep a calm façade. I pull her closer and press a kiss to the crown of her head, breathing her scent deep into my lungs. God, she centers me, brings me down a notch. This girl keeps my world in check and she doesn’t even know it.
“You need another drink, Mr. Tough Jock-head?” Amber asks, her voice pitched low.
Her sass has me grinning, but I quickly sober up, making sure she knows what she’s causing for herself. “Keep going,” I whisper, catching her lobe between my teeth. “You better be ready for later. Payback, baby doll. That’s all this jock’s sayin’.”
Giggling, she winks and turns to my sister. “You know you have to spill some of Brock’s dirty secrets. I need something to hold over his arrogant head.”
“That can be arranged.” Brit laughs, amusement spiking her brows. “I have loads of dirt on this pretty boy.”
I shake my head, a feeling I can’t describe pouncing in my chest as I watch my girl chatting with Brit. My world tilts, rights itself. God, Amber fucking Moretti is officially filtering herself into the chaotic strands of my life. I’ve never allowed a woman to get this close to me. Not because I haven’t had the opportunity, because I have. But more so because I’ve never found the right girl, the one who’ll accept me as I am. With Amber it’s been a burst of light from the moment I saw her.
I shift my gaze to my mother and release another nervous breath, taking a step toward her. My father’s chatting with Cathy and Mark, and Amber with Brittany, so this is a good time to, hopefully, start the evening off right.