Oceans Apart 2
Page 9
“You’re a menace to health professionals everywhere,” I ribbed, as I unlocked the car and reached into the glove box for my phone. I tossed it to Mike then folded the wheelchair, put it in the boot of my car and walked over to the driver’s side.
“Hey mate? Did you talk to Ginny last night?” Mike asked, his voice a little startled.
“I talked to her yesterday afternoon, told her you’d been hurt and she wished you a speedy recovery, but I didn’t talk to her at all last night.” I slid into the driver’s seat and put the key in the ignition. “Why?” Wordlessly, Mike handed my phone back to me, his eyes wide and a crooked smile on his face. My confusion at his expression quickly shifted to disbelief as I read over the screen on my phone.
Ginny: I’m at the airport. And a few minutes later…
Ginny: I mean, Heathrow Airport. Are you there?
I looked in disbelief as I read over those Skype messages. Looking at the time stamp, I could see that she’d sent them a few hours ago and I cursed myself for not taking my phone into the hospital with me. As I sat there, taking it all in, another message pinged on my screen that made my heart go into palpitations.
Ginny: I waited... and waited. I guess you have a life here without me. Never mind, I’m going home.
“No!” I shouted, as if she could hear me. I quickly typed a message back only to find the icon on her Skype account had turned grey; she wasn’t online anymore. My body grew cold and my face flushed hot. A slap on the side of my head broke me out of my silence.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation not to be a wanker?”
“But,” I turned to Mike completely shell-shocked. “You — I — aw, fuck!”
“Now drive your arse to the airport before the girl you’ve been pining over gets back on the plane and you never see her again.” Mike turned the key to the ignition for me before fastening his seatbelt. “C’mon, let’s go Tris!”
I blinked; the words my mother had told me echoed in my head. I put the car in gear, pulled out of the parking lot and sped onto the motorway. I knew I’d have to buy a ticket to get airside at the airport, so I got Mike to call British Airways while I drove and reserve one for me on the next flight to LAX. I had no idea which airline she was flying with but I had to get airside and try to find her before that plane left.
“Fucking hell!” I saw blue lights flashing some distance behind me; they were getting closer and I still had another mile to go. “Bloody cops Mike. I’m not stopping. I have to get to her.”
“You go right ahead, mate, I’ll get it sorted at the airport.”
“So now I’m a wanted man?” I grinned, as the car screeched into the drop-off zone. I tossed the keys to Mike and ran as fast as I could inside the airport, looking for the British Airways ticket counter. I’d travelled in the company jet for so long; I’d forgotten what the business end of the airport was like.
I flew over the rails and landed with a thud right in front of the ticket counter. “I need to check in, no baggage, Tristan Armstrong, you have a ticket for me” as I handed her my passport. She typed in some data and I heard the announcement over the tannoy:
Last call for remaining passengers of American Airlines flight 6186 to Los Angeles, please proceed to gate B36 where the aircraft is waiting to depart.
That surely had to be her flight so I grabbed my ticket and ran. I glanced outside and saw Mike on his crutches remonstrating with the police, his hands flying about. I’m sure he was trying to explain that he wasn’t the one driving, not with that cast anyway. I’d have to make it up to him. I was running on pure adrenaline now. Nothing and no one could have stopped me if they’d tried. I arrived at the gate just as the clerk was closing the barrier to the air bridge, “Wait! I have to get on that plane!”
“I’m sorry sir, the flight is full. All the passengers have already checked in. Are you sure this is your flight?”
“Yes, I have to get on that plane!”
“May I see your ticket please?” I handed it to her, fervently searching for any sign of Ginny while she checked it. “Sir, this ticket is to Los Angeles, but it’s with British Airways. This flight is American Airlines. You need to go to gate B42 just down the hall.”
I looked out of the window across the tarmac and my heart sank as I watched the plane carrying the girl of my dreams, push back from the stand. Taking the ticket from her hand, I looked at the destination, LAX, but she was right, not from this gate. “Oh, I’m sorry. They must have made a mistake at the desk.”
She smiled, “Can I help you with anything else?”
“No, no, that’s all right. Thanks anyway,” I replied, and I walked slowly away from the gate and headed towards the exit. There was no point staying. I had to get to the drop-off zone where I’d left Mike with the traffic cops and he was going to give me a heap of shit when I met up with him.
“Fuck!” I said out loud. I thought about how shitty Ginny must be feeling right now. She came all the way to London, on her own, just to see me; to see if things could work out between us, and I wasn’t even here for her. What a fucking wanker. I’ve got a father I can’t even look at, let alone talk to. I took my eye off the ball at work and Mike got hurt. Now I’ve done the same thing with Ginny and hurt her too. What the fuck’s wrong with me?
I had to make it up to her. I had to do something so extraordinary, she’d never forget it. Something so cheesy and lame and romantic, she wouldn’t have any doubts about my feelings for her.
As I walked back through the departure lounge, thoughts of me and Ginny flooded my brain. I had to do something. Something very spec—
“Tristan…? Yoo-hoo! Tristan, is that you?” The clacking of stilettos got closer and the voice called out again, “Oh Tristan! It is you.”
I knew that voice. How could I ever fucking forget? I turned sharply, just as the tall blonde wrapped her arms around me. “What— Vanessa? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“You’re father didn’t tell you? I’m moving to LA.”
End Of Book 2
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank my lovely readers again for your support, y’all rock! Without you, there would be no reason for me to keep writing these books. You’re all wonderful and I so appreciate you from the bottom of my heart.
I also want to thank my incredible Facebook fans, beta readers and advance copy reviewers. I appreciate all your help in making this series the success it’s been.
Follow the passionate story of Tristan and Ginny in…
Oceans Apart — Book 3
due for release September, 2014
Oceans Apart — Book 1
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About The Author
Amanda Heartley is a writer of sinfully sexy romance books. She was born and raised in Oklahoma and subsequently transplanted into the hustle and bustle of life in Southern California. She's a country girl at heart with an insatiable weakness for sexy men and feisty women. Her first erotic series was published in July 2013.
At home, she plays Mom, chef, ninja, taxi, and nurse hanging out with her four wonderful children and three loveable mutts.
You can find her drinking a green smoothie, relaxing in the back yard, writing another steamy story.
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 Amanda Heartley
Published By: Sexcessica
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