Samara, A Kilenya Romance (Kilenya Romances Book 1) Read online

  “I’m super impressed. That’s such a great opportunity. I hope things work out for you.” He looked at the big clock on the wall, then back to me. Was that regret on his face? “It’s been fun talking to you. I have to go now.”

  “Thank you so much for your help. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem.”

  “Are you . . .” I didn’t know how to ask it, and just thinking about it made my hands sweat against the sleek music books. But he seemed as in to me as I was to him. I blurted it before I could figure out what I even wanted to say, nearly stumbling against him in the process. “Would you want to get together and help me learn the songs?”

  “Actually, I’m—” He grabbed at my stack of books. “Watch out!”

  Too late. The extra books in my arms flopped forward, sliding on each other—why did they make them so slippery? Before I could do anything, they fell to the floor. My purse slipped as I lunged for everything, and all its contents spilled out. I growled in frustration, trying to decide how to cover up my freakishness. I dropped to my knees, searching under the shelves for Chapstick and pens.

  “Here, I can help.” He knelt down next to me, gathering what I couldn’t reach. He picked up a bright pink book with a cute chick on the front—my favorite reading escape—and looked at it. “What’s this?”

  “Just a—” I stopped talking. Come on, Sam, guys aren’t interested in romance books.

  He gave me the book, then helped put everything away except for the Jon Schmidt music for my dad and the four songs I’d chosen.

  A phone rang. “Have fun with those,” he said cheerfully, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell. He turned away from me, walking to the back of the store, talking.

  I took my time counting out the necessary money, hoping the guy would end his conversation soon enough for me to approach him. I hadn’t asked his name. And what had he been about to say before I dropped my things?

  Mark was especially talkative, showing me the handout announcing my dad’s upcoming concert.

  Scott Oldroyd’s Concert Is Almost Here!

  “These are not the droids you’re looking for,” Mark said, then laughed at himself.

  “Yeah, I’ve never heard that one before.”

  He laughed again.

  I looked around, but the mysterious hottie was still on the phone, so I reluctantly left the store. I just couldn’t believe we’d talked so long without exchanging names. I’d wasted too much time discussing music and my dreams and didn’t even get to the basics. Like where he was from. And if he was single. And why his smile was so familiar.

  ***

  The whole drive back to the cabin, I couldn’t get the guy from the music store off my mind. No, not Mark—the younger one, with the nice muscles.

  Molly was waiting for me at the drive when I pulled up. “Where have you been? My boyfriend’s almost here.” She paused, peering at my expression. Her eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, I know that look! Who is he? Where’s he from?”

  I laughed. “I don’t know, actually. And it didn’t occur to me to ask his name until it was too late.”

  “What? That’s the first thing I would’ve gotten from him!”

  “Whatever—you would have somehow figured out how rich he is.”

  “You’re right.” She laughed, then paused. “Except for this time. My boyfriend really doesn’t care about those sorts of things, and you know what? It’s refreshing.” She looked at me again, a sincere smile crossing her face. “Enough about me. Tell me more!”

  “Well, we met in the music store. Molly, he really knows ’80s music. It was so cool! And he helped me pick out stuff to play for the talent show.”

  “Oh, sweet! Do you think you’ll see him again?”

  “I hope so. But I’m not sure.”

  “We need to figure out who he is. Let’s head back into town when my boyfriend gets here. He can help us—we’ll go to every store until we find the guy. Hey! I’ll even do your hair all cute.”

  “Really? Oh, Molly, you’re so awesome.”

  We raced upstairs to my room and she pulled my hair from its usual ponytail, doused the locks with water, and then, using a blow dryer and some spray, teased the natural curls into place.

  We laughed, talking about our previous crushes. Molly re-did my makeup and chose some cute jeans and earrings to go with my new top. We heard the doorbell ring downstairs, and her face lit up.

  “That’s got to be him!” She turned to me. “How do I look?”

  She wore a dark red top that nicely accented her brown eyes and hair. “Stunning.”

  She flipped her hair over one shoulder. “As usual.” She practically danced down the stairs and I heard her say, “Matt, baby!”

  I changed into the pants and earrings she’d picked, wanting to give her space with her boyfriend.

  A moment later, she called up the stairs. “Samara, come meet Matt.”

  I put a smile on my face, only willing to go through the next annoying, gushy, oozy, “I-love-you-so-much-baby” moment because I knew Molly wanted me to—and she was going to help me find the guy from the music store. Descending the stairs, I half smiled as I heard Molly enthusiastically tell Matt about the hottie her sister had met, and how Matt was going to help us find him.

  I walked into the living room and froze. My face burned the brightest red possible—I could feel everything in my entire body burning from embarrassment, even my feet.

  Molly’s boyfriend was the guy from the music store.

  The guy I’d just been gushing to Molly about.

  The guy Molly and her boyfriend were going to help me find.

  Please, someone, throw a blanket over my head now. I glanced around the room, trying to find a place to hide. The room was empty, except for Grayden.

  “Come on, Samara, stop acting so weird. Are you going to leave Matt hanging?”

  I realized Matt had his hand extended. He looked shocked too, his smile fake and his face bright red. Not as red as mine, though, I’d bet.

  I resisted the urge to wipe the sweat off my palm, reaching instead to shake his hand. It was sweaty, like mine. Did he notice? I couldn’t believe this was Molly’s boyfriend! How was it possible? And how was I going to make it through the next two days?

  “Sam, this is Matt. He plays guitar too! You guys are doing a duet at the talent show. I’ve already decided.” She turned to Matt. “Please? Stay the whole week?”

  He laughed. “You know I have to work, Molly.”

  “Well, maybe you could call your boss or something. Come on, Matt.”

  He smiled into her eyes and I looked away, not wanting to see his admiration for her. “Okay, I will.”

  “Yay!” Molly jumped up and down. The expression on her face was utter elation, and she asked again if we’d play together at the talent show. I couldn’t bring myself to turn her down.

  She squealed, then grabbed Matt’s hand. “All right,” she said, “let’s go find Sam’s man!”

  My face flushed even more, though I hadn’t thought it could possibly get darker, and Matt actually laughed. I glared at him.

  “If I’m staying all week, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to find this guy.” He winked at me. I almost hit him.

  How on earth was I going to get through the entire vacation with him hanging around, teasing me like that? Misery! Agony!

  He’d end up on the side of the road in a bag really fast, if he wasn’t careful.

  ***

  Okay, I was only kidding about killing Matt. On the other hand, death for me would have been acceptable. Either that, or abduction by aliens. Sitting in that car with the two of them was cruel and unusual punishment. I resolved then and there never to speak or look at Matt again.

  I finally found out the reason Matt looked so familiar—he was the captain of the football team at my high school. Curse my inability to follow sports! Curse my decision to ignore the popular crowd! I only knew two cheerleaders and a couple of players on t
he basketball and football teams because they’d been in the same classes with me. If I paid attention, I would’ve known Matt already. Or at least known of him. Molly even pointed this out—she’d been so delighted when she found out I hadn’t known who he was.

  Curses!

  I pouted in the backseat. Matt was seriously enjoying this game of “find Sam’s hot guy.” And Molly, clueless as she was about the situation, was having a lot of fun.

  “Tell us again how hot this guy is,” Matt said. “Did he have perfectly disheveled hair? Clear, piercing eyes? The best biceps, abs, and pecs you’ve ever seen?”

  I blushed, remembering how I’d admired his arms earlier. “You know, the more I think about him, the less amazing he is.”

  “Whatever!” Molly said. “You couldn’t stop talking about him for like, half an hour!”

  I groaned. Way to go, Molly.

  “Really?” Matt asked. “What did she say?”

  “Well, that he was attractive, of course. Then she went on and on about how funny he was, and that there seemed to be a connection between the—”

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “I’m ready to go back and give up on this.”

  “So soon?” Molly asked. “It’s only been an hour.”

  “Don’t care. I’m hungry.” And grouchy. And wanting to be back with my family. Cale and Grayden might be annoying, but at least they weren’t cruel.

  Molly turned her car around and we headed to the cabin.

  I couldn’t help the tears that threatened to spill over. Why hadn’t I kept my mouth shut when Molly first asked? But there wasn’t any way I could’ve known the guy in the store was my sister’s boyfriend.

  We pulled up in front of the cabin, and I flung myself from the car and dashed through the front door and up to my room. Mom called out that dinner would be ready in an hour—much later than usual. She was probably holding things off until more relatives came.

  I paced the floor, unable to cry now, even though I wanted to and was alone. Stupid, stupid situation! Things couldn’t have gone any worse. Or been more embarrassing.

  Finally, I calmed down enough to pull out my guitar. Time to move on. Time to forget Matt forever. After all, the crush had only lasted a couple of hours. I sat on the floor, leaning up against my bed, and sang my little heart out. Thank goodness for the extra-thick log walls—no one would hear me.

  I was halfway through Hold On by Wilson Phillips—a fitting song for my situation—when someone knocked. Oh, please just leave me alone . . .

  “Hey,” Matt said, peeking around the door. “Molly sent me up here to practice with you.” He brought out his guitar from behind him, a battered electric acoustic with dents and scratches all over it. “Can I come in?”

  I sighed and scooted over. “I guess, but leave the door open.”

  He laughed. “I’m not going to strangle you, you know.”

  “That’s not it. It’s a rule when boys are in our rooms with us.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay. My parents have that one too.” He sat down next to me and started tuning his guitar. “I thought I heard you singing—sounded really good. Where’s the music?”

  I pointed to the song open in front of me, wondering if he really hadn’t seen it there.

  “Can I?” he asked, pulling the music closer.

  I leaned against my bed, resting my guitar across my legs. I still felt hurt about what had happened in the car, but I couldn’t wait to hear him play just the same. Especially if he was as good as Molly said he was.

  He messed around for a moment and then looked up at me, an expression of contrition in his eyes. His dimple wasn’t visible now. I held my breath as he searched my face. Don’t look at me like that, Matt. I’m trying to undo my crush on you.

  “I . . . I don’t know how to say I’m sorry, Sammy. I really am, though. I’ve never been a mean person—I don’t know why I made things into such a game in the car, and I’m very sorry about that.”

  I dropped my gaze, not wanting to show how much he’d hurt me. “It’s fine.” No, it wasn’t.

  “Also, I didn’t know you were Molly’s sister, and I tried to tell you I have a girlfriend. You know, when you asked me if we could get together to practice.” He grinned, and my heart fluttered before I could stop it. “And look—we’re working on the songs anyway.” A serious expression crossed his face, and he stared at me again. “Are we cool?”

  “Of course, Matt.” For such a common name, my mouth sure enjoyed saying it. I closed my eyes, trying to control my thoughts. Being a hopeless romantic gets you in trouble. A lot.

  “Good! Let’s start playing.” He reached for my guitar. “First things first, though. I need to inspect what you’ve got. Make sure it’s qualified.” He smiled to show he was kidding.

  I handed it to him reluctantly. “That’s my baby, so be nice to it.”

  “No worries—I just want to look it over.” His eyebrows went up as he examined it. “This is an expensive guitar. Very well made. Where’d you get it?”

  “My dad had it imported from Spain.”

  He blew out a breath, handed it back to me, and picked up his own. “Mine might not be as pretty as yours, but it still sounds good. ’Course, the beauty is in the player. Let’s see how well you do, shall we?” The twinkle in his eyes challenged me, and I flipped the music back to the front page.

  “See if you can keep up,” I said.

  “Oh, yeah. Just so you know, I’m not good at sight reading.”

  We began from the top, and though we had some mess-ups and needed to start over a couple of times, I quickly decided about Matt’s guitar-playing skills. He was right—he wasn’t very good at sight reading. But what he lacked there, he made up for in sheer talent. He was constantly ad-libbing, making us sound much, much better. And he wasn’t too bad at the backup vocals, either.

  As a couple of my girl cousins arrived, walking past my door to their rooms, they looked in on us, obviously impressed. I couldn’t help smiling. He was so fantastic!

  Grayden bounced through the doorway. “We can all hear you. Mom says you sound good and to come eat dinner.”

  I stood, put my guitar away, and followed Matt downstairs.

  ***

  Dinner was short and sweet because Mom wanted to get everyone in the family room for the annual slideshow presentation. Instead of having dessert after dinner on the first night of vacation, we all get together to watch an informal presentation of the pictures taken over the past year. My mom serves her spectacular guacamole. I know, it’s a weird tradition.

  That part of the evening was a disaster. Not for Mom, thank goodness, but for me. We’d only been seated for a few minutes—Mom passing around trays of her delicious dip and a few bags of chips—when I couldn’t resist opening my mouth and making myself look like an idiot. Everyone was talking to Matt while watching the show—complimenting him on his guitar skills, asking him about football, making Molly tell the story of how they met.

  I didn’t know why, since I didn’t like him anymore, but I kept trying to get his attention. In the stupidest, most dumb ways. It’s not like I was doing it on purpose, ’cause I wasn’t. I just wanted to add something intelligent to the conversation.

  “I started a new journal today. It’s cooler than anyone else’s, ’cause it has firework stickers all over it.” I felt my cheeks redden when I realized what I’d just admitted. I still messed around with stickers. Okay, so what if it’s true? Who cares, anyway?

  “Yeah, Samara’s journals always have tons of stickers on them,” Molly said. She turned back to Matt. “Tell them about when Coach asked you to be captain.”

  “Well, I’d done really well my sophomore year, and . . .”

  I tried not to listen too closely—lest I become mesmerized by his voice—and scooped more guacamole on my plate. Yummy, yummy guacamole. “When I was little, I used to think this stuff was Ninja Turtle food.”

  Matt laughed, and I felt myself beam under his smile. Everyone else
just stared, Molly glaring because I’d interrupted her boyfriend.

  He finished telling his story, and Mom asked him about his parents—what his dad did, his mom, and practically everyone else in his world. I forced myself to stop listening. I wouldn’t fall under his spell again. But then he started talking about a trip to the zoo that had my family laughing, so I had to catch up to know what was so funny.

  “Then, when we got to the camel exhibit, Amberly asked why all of them were pregnant on their backs.”

  Everyone laughed. I wanted them to laugh at something I said, too, so I blurted out, “I was so hungry tonight, the camel inside of me wanted to eat a year’s worth of food so I wouldn’t starve to death during the winter.” I paused. “Only . . . camels don’t do that.” I blushed.

  Matt glanced at me, somewhat confused, probably wondering what I was talking about. Then he smiled and turned to Molly again. Mom and Dad looked at me like there was something wrong.

  Idiot!

  From then on, I kept my mouth shut. It hadn’t been my most graceful moment, that’s for sure. I finally turned to Grayden and Cale, who sat to the left of me, and started talking to them instead.

  Cale still had food all over his face. I handed him a napkin. “Clean off your chops, buster, or I’ll wash you in the toilet.”

  “Ew! That’s gross!”

  Grayden laughed hysterically at the look on Cale’s face.

  I rounded on him. “And then I’ll do Grayden, too.”

  That stopped Grayden’s laughs. “No way, Sam. I’ll run into Molly’s room and flip the water all over and tell her you told me to do it.”

  “Oh, but that would just get us both in trouble,” I said, laughing.

  “Duh . . . That’s the point.”

  “Okay, you win.”

  He grinned happily and leaned against me on the couch.

  I glanced up and found Matt’s eyes on me—but only briefly. He responded to something Molly had said, and she laughed. He turned to her again.

  ***

  The birds outside my window woke me, and I pulled the blankets off and swung my feet to the floor. Brrr! I tucked my feet underneath me, and when they were warm, I reached over and grabbed the fuzzy socks I’d put on the nightstand the evening before.