Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
He leans against the bar for a moment, regarding us with an amused gaze.
“Now, I know the club is strict about background checks, but both of you are legal, aren’t you?”
Mira nods furiously, already fumbling with her small purse to find her fake ID.
“Yes, of course!” she chirps. “See? Here, it says I’m twenty-one.”
The bartender takes the ID before scrutinizing it with skeptical eyes.
“If I’m not mistaken, your photo was glued into this driver’s license,” he drawls before handing it back to her. “Is that true, Miss Jones?”
Mira goes pale, staring back into his eyes.
“Well… um … I mean—”
“What she means is that we’re both legit,” I say in a smooth tone, trying to get us out of hot water. “And what I meant to say is that I was hoping for two virgin aperol spritzes.”
The man nods with amusement, his gray eyes flickering.
“Sure. Virgin sounds about right to me,” he says before turning away. My friend and I stare at one another.
“Somehow, that remark came out sounding like a double-entendre,” I say in a wry voice. Mira nods, blinking at me.
“Did he mean virgin, as in a virgin cocktail, or virgin, as in we’ve never been with a man before?”
I wave my hand dismissively in the air.
“Of course he means virgin as in a cocktail, sweetie. Trust me, don’t let the staff here intimidate you. Besides, we may be nineteen but we’re not virgin virgins. I mean, I’ve been with a guy before.”
Of course, what I don’t add is that my ex-boyfriend Theo is the only man I’ve done stuff with in the past. Plus, Theo suffered from erectile dysfunction despite being relatively young, so our sexy times were more frustrating than sexy. Still, he did get it up every now and then, so I’m technically no longer a “virgin,” even if my experience left a lot to be desired.
“Oh, I’m definitely not a virgin,” my friend says in a hushed voice, her cheeks pinkening. “I can’t believe I even gave the impression that I am!”
I throw her a droll stare. Really, my buddy telegraphs innocence on all channels, from her big Bambi eyes to her long, wavy blonde hair that resembles paintings of the Virgin Mary. Then again, I don’t know Mira all that well because we only met recently at Oakdale Community College. We were in the same orientation group, and struck up a friendship immediately seeing that we’re both curvy girls who are interested in the arts.
But within moments, the bartender returns, his gray gaze still amused.
“Here you go, ladies,” he says in a drawl while pushing the glasses over at us. “Two virgin aperol spritzes.”
“Thank you,” I say in what I hope is a dignified manner. “I’m Ali, by the way, and this is my friend Mira. I mean, Amanda. Mira is short for Amanda,” I stammer, my cheeks flushing.
Mira takes control then, leaning over the bar to offer her hand to the bartender.
“Nice to meet you,” she says with a dazzling smile. “We’re new here. This is our first time at Club Z.”
The bartender nods while shaking her hand, obviously barely holding back laughter. He’s quite handsome, now that I think of it, although definitely older with craggy features and rounding shoulders.
“I couldn’t tell,” he says in a deadpan voice. “I’m Mike.”
I shoot him a look.
“Just Mike? Not something like Cranston, Tolliver or Jay Gatsby?”
The man smirks.
“I’m afraid you’ve been reading too many books. It’s just Mike,” he says with a wink before turning away. “Now if you’ll excuse me ladies, I need to see to my other guests.”
Then, Mira and I are left alone.
“Oh my god, we totally gave ourselves away, didn’t we?” my friend moans, looking Heaven-wards. “Everyone can tell we’re nineteen.”
“Stop that,” I say while shooting her an exasperated look. “We don’t look that young. Now come on. We still have our dark prince to find.”
With that, I take my friend’s hand and begin leading her around the big room. It’s quite an interesting sight, actually. People haven’t started fornicating yet, so it’s still pretty tame, but I can see women casting suggestive glances while tall, handsome men openly nod hello. We pass one particularly voluptuous redhead who at that very moment, decides to unzip her red gown, and it falls with a smooth slither to her feet as if she were in a movie.
“Wow, how does she do that?” Mira whispers, her blue eyes wide. “I swear, whenever I get in and out of my clothes I have to practically do jumping jacks to get stuff over my hips. It’s never like that.”
I giggle while pulling her along. The redhead’s been approached by a blonde man who resembles a Viking, and she shoots him a dazzling smile while doing the subtlest of hip-wiggles.
“I know, right?” I whisper back. “But it’s because we’re curvy girls, Mir. I swear, these women are all size twos whereas I’m a twelve.”