Serendipitous Dreams (The Cunningham's Book One)

Lyra Finally Twenty-One

LYRA*

"How much did you drink?" Vega asks me, her words barely audible over the thumping bass coming from inside the club. The frigid cold nips at our noses and we shuffle our feet, trying to stay warm. I can feel the buzz from the alcohol coursing through my veins. "I'm feeling a pleasant buzz," I reply. The smell of cigarettes and perfume wafts through the air as we wait in the long line of people. "Do you think we could find some guys to buy us drinks once we're inside?" Vega asks, her voice hopeful.

Shivering uncontrollably in the frigid air, I asked, "Why in the world did we ever think it would be a good idea to wear thin spaghetti-strap shirts and shorts in early March? It's bone-chillingly cold out here." I cringed and started vigorously rubbing my arms together, hoping the friction would generate some warmth. The sound of chattering teeth echoed in the crisp air, and the smell of winter permeated everything around us.

"Lyra, lighten up. We'll be inside before you know it. And once we're in, you'll be rejoicing because you hardly have any clothes on."

"If you say so."

As we stood outside the club, the thudding bass from inside permeated the air, making it difficult to hear anything else. Suddenly, a guy emerged from the entrance, his grungy appearance suggesting he had just left work. Despite his disheveled look, he was undeniably attractive. I scoured my memory, trying to place where I had seen him before. I silently begged him to look up and make eye contact, hoping to confirm my suspicions. But he didn't acknowledge us, instead fumbling through his pockets for his keys. Even with only a partial view of his face, I felt certain that I recognized him. Three years ago, I had glimpsed him, and though I hadn't taken in all of his features, I had seen enough to know that this was definitely the same guy.

"Vega!" Filled with excitement, I exclaimed, "It's him!" But when we turned in the direction where I had last seen him, he had vanished. All we could see were clusters of guys and girls walking together. In addition, we saw a truck departing from the parking lot.

Vega shook her head and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the guard who would let us in. "You have either drank too much or you're losing your damn mind," she said. "I don't see a sizzling hot guy with bright sapphire eyes out of any of those people out there."

I waved my hands frantically in the air. "Vega, listen to me. The guy I just saw was searching his pockets for keys. I'm sure he was leaving. My first thought was to go to him, but I didn't. I'm not crazy. It was him, I'm convinced of it. I could feel it deep within my bones. If I could have just seen his eyes, I would have been able to confirm it was him. He wouldn't look up, though."

"Lyra," Vega demanded, "get a hold of yourself. It's likely that it wasn't even him. Let's focus on our turn now. Please get your ID out." Vega then pulled out her own ID from her wallet and handed it to the guard, signaling for me to follow suit.

Feeling annoyed that Vega wasn't understanding, I took a deep breath in and then exhaled. I then yanked my ID out of my wallet.

***

After twenty minutes of dancing, I felt light as a feather. It was exactly what I needed. As I looked around, I saw a handsome guy walking up behind Vega. He motioned for me to stay quiet, and I smiled and looked away. Suddenly, I felt powerful hands grip my hips. At the same time, the guy behind Vega grabbed her, and we both gasped in surprise.

As we inspect each other's guys, we exchange grins and throw each other a thumbs up. After that, we spin around to face our respective matches.

While he may not be my mysterious blue-eyed stranger with black hair, I wouldn't say that my guy is all that bad looking. In fact, he's quite the catch - he looks as if he could be a model. With perfectly styled dirty blond hair that's to his ears on one side and shorter on the other, and light blue eyes that sparkle in the dimly lit room, he's fine as hell. A perfectly clipped goatee, which makes me weak in the knees, accentuated his chiseled jawline.