Oceans Apart Book 1 (Oceans Apart #1)
By Amanda Heartley
Chapter 1 — Ginny
“Tell me why we’re here again?” I asked, leaning over into my best friend Kari so I could half scream in her ear. I love clubbing, but this one was particularly loud tonight. Partying on the weekends with Kari was one of the things I looked forward to all week. Especially weeks like this when work had been extremely draining.
The Python Club was the newest club that had opened up downtown, and Friday night was usually full of twenty-somethings drinking, dancing, and mingling.
It didn’t have the biggest dance floor I’d ever seen, but it was the liveliest. And it was packed. Girls dressed in their sexiest, skimpiest clothes to get a primo spot on that floor, wiggling and bumping on the small platform right in front of the DJ.
It would have been excessively dark for my taste, except for the multi-colored lights that flashed every so often reflecting onto the disco ball hanging from the ceiling. The bar, though, was well lit. Kari and I had already danced a little, and were taking a much-needed break to rest our feet and have a couple of drinks.
Kari laughed and motioned to the bartender for another one of the frosty orange drinks she always ordered. “Because it’s Friday night, and we are meant to be having fun like the hot, carefree, single women we are,” she said, sticking her nose in the air in a fake posh way.
“Right,” I mumbled under my breath, still nursing my vodka cranberry. “Does it still count as being carefree if we have to say we’re carefree, though?”
“Gin.” Kari leveled a firm stare at me, and I rolled my eyes at her, laughing out loud. What a pair.
“Alright, alright!” I had to relent. “Carefree, single women. Got it.”
“Don’t forget hot,” Kari added. “That part’s important.” She slid her hands down her sides and did a little shimmy. “You gotta feel the hotness or no dude is ever going to want to feel your hotness, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. Duh, who do you think you’re talking to here?” This was just par for the course when it came to Kari, though, and I just shook my head and smiled rather than comment on it anymore.
Kari shrugged as if she couldn’t be bothered. She had the kind of self-confidence I could only dream about. She looked great, leaning casually against the bar in a purple dress that hugged her ample curves in a way that was more flattering than revealing. Of course, the neckline, which was currently showing off a good four inches of her cleavage, did enough revealing that the rest of the dress didn’t have to. Her blonde hair was pulled back and fell down her shoulders in soft waves, and it brought attention to the soft roundness of her face.
This was the kind of thing we did every weekend, dance, drink, and watch the hot, gyrating men on the dance floor. We’d drink a little, dance a little, and Kari would smile and flirt with any man who looked her way. She had her unique brand of sarcastic charm, and I would just sit there, smiling, watching her booze, and schmooze. I had more fun watching her than I did dancing. I knew this wasn’t going to be how I’d meet the man of my dreams. This was exactly how I’d meet more *s like Brad and some of the other losers I’d dated before. Total f*cking jerks who were more interested in getting their dick sucked than anything else.
Not that I had issues with blowjobs or casual sex, because I didn’t. In fact, it was something I enjoyed and sometimes missed, now that I was single. However, I wasn’t looking to have random sexual encounters anymore. I was looking for more than that in a guy. Something more than just a casual commitment or a sport f*ck, but it’s so freaking hard to find someone who wants the same thing.
Sometimes, I even wondered if the problem was me. I hadn’t been the best of company since the big break up with Brad, but I was trying. I was here, wasn’t I? That should count for something.
Kari got a lot of male attention, because even though she wasn’t a size two, it was clear she knew she was hot. According to her, as soon as I got with the program, the men would do the same with me. I just wasn’t too sure I wanted that kind of attention.
“No. No. No, no, no,” Kari said, snapping her fingers in front of my face, trying to bring me out of my depressing thoughts. “None of that, you hear me? Bartender, get my friend another vodka cranberry, would you? She needs a lift.”
“Kari, I’m fine,” I insisted.
“No, you’re moping. Look at you, girl. You look hot all over yourself tonight, and the men are trying to check you out, but you look like you might cry all over them at any second, and that’s not sexy.” Kari looked around, grinning when she spotted a man sitting not too far from us at one of the bar stools. “Excuse me, hello? Hi. Can I ask you something?” she called, trying to get his attention.
“Kari, what the hell are you doing?” I hissed. I could feel my cheeks flushing.
“Proving a point.”
The man turned his head to look at us, raising an eyebrow. “Are you talking to me?” he asked, and both of us damn near fell over at his accent. It was English, and it was hot. I’d always been a sucker for a man with an accent, and Kari knew it. And she had to be dreaming up something, if the devious grin on her face was anything to go by.
I couldn’t blame her. Whoever this man was, he was freakin’ gorgeous. His hair was a light shade of brown and he had piercing blue eyes that seemed to reflect the light around them. There was a smile playing in the corners of his mouth, and I stood there and watched, as he looked Kari up and down.