Guts

Chapter One

Chapter One

We landed in L.A at noon, and I had to say, I’ve never had such an assault of sudden jet-lag but as soon as we’d got to our new home, it took everything I had not to shut my eyes.

The building was huge, almost like a mini skyscraper, I looked back at Kyra with a devilish grin as she whistled,

“Home, sweet home.”

Our boss had booked a whole floor for Kyra and me, the elevator leading straight into the enormous living room; it was like something you saw in a movie.

“Don’t get flats like this in the U.K, do you?” I smiled as we checked out the bedrooms and the two bathrooms.

After unpacking anything and munching on some chocolate and crappy American tea, Kyra giggled and look at me,

“Want to go and celebrate properly?”

It was hot, heavy and exactly what I need.

After much debating with Kyra, I finally managed to let her persuade me into coming to a club. She had argued it was what I needed, a break, something to get my mind of off work and my recent relationship messes.

Boy, had she been right.

The black dress I had worn felt far too formal for the tight tops and non-existent skirts that surrounded me, even Kyra had gone for the ‘sluttier look.’ We had spent what had felt like hours getting ready, my curly hair left natural, skimming the bottom of my ribs and the dress covering half my thighs. Kyra had shoved me in her platform heels, adding about four inches to my merely 5ft 2.

The night club was dim as Kyra pulled us to the middle of the dance floor; the bass was heavy and the rhythm just what I needed to get lost in. I let lose as Kyra and I danced, ignoring the arrogant guys that would sneak up behind us or offer drinks, tonight was for us.

Or so I thought.

We’d been at the nightclub for about an hour when Kyra pulled, her attention from me lost to the hot guy she’d managed to grab. I sighed inwardly; feeling the ‘third wheel syndrome’ take over as I moved to the bar.

“Strongest thing you’ve got,” I told the man serving me; he had half his head shaved, with a huge nose ring. If I wasn’t going to have fun I might as well get shit faced, there really wasn’t any reason not to.

“I’ll get this,” A cute guy said next to me just as I pulled out my purse, “And get me whatever she’s having too.” I smiled thanks as he moved up closer, our elbows touching slightly as we waited for our drinks. I looked him up and down appreciatively, taking in the tight jeans and converse, the glamour kills t-shirt and the rookie armbands. His hair lots of different shades, dyed probably, sat just above his eyes, drawing attention to how dark they really were.

“So you come here often?” I said, trying to make a decent conversation starter, maybe he had a good sense of humour.

“No, not really and by the sounds of your accent neither do you,” He winked at the last bit, smiling as I grabbed my drink off the bar, downing it in one, the intensity of the alcohol already giving my body a huge buzz.

“Yeah, the whole ‘English thing,’” I smiled back.

“I like English accents, really hot,” He stated, I watched as the guy looked at me, not even noticing his drink, his eyes drawing up and down my body. I giggled from the attention, his gaze making me feel hot, very hot.

“You not up to it?” I grinned, feeling cheeky and flirty whilst pointing to his glass, the guy eyed the drink suspiciously before downing it too, looking up at me shaken.