Chapter 1

I can't count on my hands the number of times my best friend has asked me to look at her boobs. So it was no wonder my selective hearing wasn't paying attention.

"Can you tell I'm not wearing a bra?"

I flicked the pages of my new text book, not really reading anything, just scanning as my mind wandered to the scent of coffee and cologne.

"Elle?"

"Hmm? Looks great on you," I mumbled. He stood in line behind me at the campus café today. I hadn't been expecting it, not considering there was another week before classes started.

"Elle! A little attention please."

I looked up at my friend Sascha posing with one arm over her black hair, leg propped against the bathroom door. She pushed out her petite chest, looking down at the silky red camisole.

"Am I wearing a bra or not?"

I looked her over. Petite, gorgeous and a man-eater. There was no other way to describe her. And apparently nipples could be barred after all. "The stag is real," I said with a serious tone.

"Perfect!" She flicked her long hair over her shoulder and went back into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar so we could still hear each other.

I shook my head as my friend continued. "I've got small tits, right? Who's going to notice them if they don't put on a little show?" That was her well-rehearsed philosophy; make the most of your assets, even if they were itsy bitsy. Small boobs, no cleavage? Free the nipple. Little bum, long legs? Bare the booty. Simple.

"Hasn't your target audience seen that show already?" I questioned carefully. She hadn't told me in so many words, but if history was any indication, then her new crush had surely been an interactive member of the Sass Show.

Sascha tore the door open and fixed me with a blistering glare. "I'll have you know, Miss Prim and Proper, that Dale has been the perfect gentleman."

I raised a brow. "By his wish or your command?"

She pressed her lips together and thought about it. "A little of both, I think." She gently folded the silk and put it back in the shopping bag. "I don't know, Elle, I think it's different this time." Her voice was quiet, tone serious.

"How do you mean?" It was an unusual statement coming from Sascha.

She sighed. "He just... he treats me different. Better. Than previous guys, I mean." She fell onto the couch beside me. "I really like him, like really like him! In the I want to bare his children way."

I smiled. Her giddiness was infectious. I hadn't seen her like this since we were teenagers and she fell for her first boyfriend. He was older, rode a motorcycle and seemed a little dangerous. Worse, he hit on all her friends. He was a creep, and it took Sascha a while to figure that out. Since then, she'd dated a range of guys, each one different but each one entirely wrong for her.

"And that's why you have to come tonight. I need my best wing woman," she continued with pleading eyes and a puckered lip. "You promised."

In Sascha's quest to lock down her new man, she invited me to one of his shows. He was a musician and frequently performed at the bar on the edge of campus. I'd never set foot in the place, it just wasn't my scene, but she begged me to come along to one of his gigs. I usually rejected her invitation and used work or assignments as an excuse. That wasn't going to fly this time. The new semester didn't start for another week and Sascha worked at my family's hotel. She'd seen this month's roster and knew I was free.

"Pretty please?" She fluttered her eyelashes.

I sighed. "You know I don't like bars."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"Guys getting drunk and being jerks..." I continued with disdain.

"You'll be with me; I'll fend them off."

"Uni is a place to learn, not party."

Sascha scoffed. "Sure they are."

I frowned. Between work and classes, I barely had time to eat dinner with my dad, let alone waste time partying the nights away.

I crossed my arms and huffed. "Fine! I'll go, but only because I love you."

Sascha bounced on her cushion and clapped. "This will be great, you'll see. Maybe we'll even find you a musician of your own."

I groaned in annoyance. Typical. "What did we just talk about? You're fending off the vultures, remember, not encouraging them." I reached into her shopping bag and pulled out the red camisole. "Speaking of which, if you're only interested in Dale, as you so adamantly claim, I'd be wearing a strapless or pasties with this. You attract guys just walking into a room. In this, they'll be flocking towards you. If Dale likes you the way it seems he does, then there's no need to free the nipple. And making him jealous could seriously backfire."

Sascha rolled her eyes. "Pasties are so not sexy." She shrugged her shoulders after thinking about it for a moment. "You're probably right though. Okay fine, I'll saddle the girls if you come."

I glanced sideways at her. She knew I'd go regardless of the bra situation. She must be serious about this guy if she was taking advice from me.

"I'll need to go home after work to change, then I'll come pick you up." It would be easier if I drove. That way we'd both have a way to get home. Whether she'd be coming home with me or not would be a question for later tonight.

She gave me a coy smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Come on, we're going to be late." My response was dripping with sarcasm. As if we'd be late. We were already here.

Sascha grabbed her belongings and put them in her locker. I did the same, gathering the textbooks I'd brought this morning, smiling at the memory of his reflection in the cake display window. I wondered what he was doing there a week early, and if he'd gone to buy his new course material before the rush next week, like I had.

"Get your head in the zone," she said, taking my empty keep cup and putting it in the staffroom sink. "The Boss Lady doesn't like it when we're late," she laughed before ducking back into the bathroom.

By Boss Lady she meant me. I wasn't manager on duty today, but my father owned the hotel Sascha and I worked at. By extension and my part-time managerial position, I was often referred to as the Boss Lady. It was ridiculous considering I worked the same shifts as everyone else on the front desk and only shouldered a few extra responsibilities by my father's request. He wanted me to learn on the job, hoping the experience would help me figure out if I wanted to stay in the family business. I wasn't a boss lady, not yet.

I walked down the hall and entered the foyer of Twenty-Nine on Queen. Sawyer greeted me with a warm smile.

"Did you have a good break?" he asked, moving in beside me at the desk where I quickly scanned today's arrivals. He leaned his elbows on the counter and his muscled arm brushed against mine, the rolled sleeve of his button down exposing the veins on his forearm. I couldn't help my wandering gaze.

I turned to face him, coming dangerously close, so close I could smell his sweet cologne. He was smirking, all gorgeous blue eyes and luscious lips. He knew what his proximity did to me.

"You know you shouldn't be doing this," I whispered, eyes darting around the foyer. There was no one here, but someone could walk through those doors any minute. Our heated moment was too unprofessional for my liking.

"You don't mind as much as you think you do," he leaned a little closer.

Sawyer McKinnon. Hot, sexy, tall and lean, and oh so frustrating. That slight Scottish accent inherited from his parents who migrated to Australia when he was young did wild things to my body. But he was also my father's prodigy and completely off limits. Not that it proved to be much of a barrier.

Sawyer reached his arm around me, placing a strong hand on my hip before giving a gentle squeeze. "Are you coming over tonight?" He asked in a deep voice close to my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin.

I grabbed his arm and glanced around. "Sawyer! Anyone could see." The last thing we needed was for another employee to spot us, or worse, for my father to walk in.

He let go and took a step back, chuckling at my discomfort.

"It's not funny," I stated bluntly, turning back to the computer screen. "If Dad finds out we've been... well, you know what, he'd murder you."

"Oh please, he loves me."

That he did. When my father hired Sawyer straight out of university, he'd admired his intellect and drive. I'd crushed on him when he first started working here. Now, the six-year age gap was least of our concerns. My father may treat Sawyer like the son he never had, but he certainly wouldn't appreciate him hooking up with his only daughter.

I rolled my eyes. "It doesn't matter how much he loves you; he would never appreciate..." I waved my hand between us. Sometimes I didn't know how to explain what Sawyer and I were doing. It was what some might call a 'friends with benefits' situation. We discussed it the first time, deciding it was better not to label it, whatever it was. Hanging out, hooking up. Having a good time.

Sawyer's glistening eyes swept my body and he leaned back, arms bulging as he pushed his weight against the counter. "Appreciate what? Me fu-"

"Ew! Do not finish that sentence!"

I jumped as Sascha appeared, interrupting Sawyer mid-sentence.

"As hot as I'm sure that would be, let's keep it in our pants at work please. Some of us are PG-13."

I blushed and Sawyer scoffed. "Sass, you're anything but PG."

Sascha knew about my little rendezvous with Sawyer. After the first time I went back to his place, I had to spill to someone.

Sawyer turned back to me as Sascha busied herself with the brochures on the counter. "So, tonight?"

"I can't tonight," I apologised.

Sascha turned around. "Yeah, she can't tonight. I'm kidnapping her. She's my wing woman."

Sawyer laughed. "Going hunting?" he queried with a smirk.

"More like going in for the kill," Sascha winked.

He pressed his lips together in an amused smile. "Good for you, Sass."

"Thanks babes."

Sawyer turned back to me. "Where are you headed?"

"Just to the Uni Bar. Sascha's been seeing a musician and his band is playing tonight."

Sawyer nodded. "Well, if your night ends early, give me a buzz."

I looked up at him hopefully. "Not interested in coming, are you?"

He pushed off the counter and let out a low whistle. "I think I'll leave the good old uni days in the past. You have a good night though. Make sure you eat, especially if you drink. You're a lightweight." His gaze turned from admiring to concerned.

Sensing my annoyance before it even materialised, Sascha reappeared. "Don't worry, big boy, I'll take care of her."

Just then the entrance doors opened, and an elder couple walked in.

I glanced back to Sawyer as Sascha greeted them. "Have fun," he said with sincerity. "And if you want to come by after, let me know." He winked as he took a step back toward the office door.

I blushed. Oh, how tempting he was.

~

"I can't believe you've been a student here for two years and have never been to the campus bar," Sascha laughed as we walked through the doors of Uni Bar. The popularity of this place amazed me. How could a name as bland as Uni Bar hold such a big attraction?

I looked around curiously. "Does it have a coffee machine?" I queried in a serious tone.

Sascha rounded on me with a raised brow. "Babe, take a look around. Does this look like a place they serve coffee?"

I scanned the room. Uni Bar looked more modern than I thought it would. In my mind, I'd always imagined a university watering hole to be made of nothing but wood, beer-soaked carpet, and faux leather booths. Clearly Eastern University kept up with trends. It had a modern industrial vibe with exposed brick, wooden floors, and metal stools.

The crowd was exactly as I imagined though. Students laughing and drinking, heads bobbing to the background music as they socialised. Some patrons looked a little old to be prowling a campus bar, but who was I to judge?

I called her bluff. "Actually, it does."

She crossed her arms over the red silk camisole she tried on earlier today. She'd paired it with some high-waisted, skin-tight black jeans. With her hair curled and tied into a stylish ponytail, and her natural makeup accentuating her beautiful features, she was Sass the Man-eater, but also not. There was something different about her tonight.

"Okay, they do have coffee," she admitted. "But you're not allowed to have any. It's strictly tequila or Jägerbombs for you, young lady."

"Do not bring Jägermeister anywhere near me!" My stomach turned at the unforgettable memory of a messy night. "Besides, I'm driving, remember."

Sascha groaned and rolled her eyes. "Right. Driving. You suck." She turned and glanced towards the stage, heels tapping on the wood as she bounced up and down.

I watched her carefully as she scanned the crowd looking for Dale. She was nervous. And she'd worn a bra. Sascha really was serious about this guy.

I reached over to hold her hand. "Where is this mystery man of yours? It's time for the Boyfriend Approval Panel to get to work."

She gave a little giggle. "Oh yeah, because you're so tough."

I faked offence. "Umm, I can be tough when I want to be, thank you very much."

"Mhmm," she laughed again. "Oh, look, there he is." Sascha pointed toward the stage where a few guys and a woman were setting up equipment. She took a step and then stopped, noticing how I still held her hand but was rooted to the spot.

My heart rate rose as I watched the movements of a guy on the stage. He was tall and had dark hair, and even though I couldn't see his eyes from here, I knew they were a piercing translucent blue.

Sascha followed my line of sight. "What's wrong?" When I didn't respond right away, she tried again. "Elle?"

"He... he's the guy," I stuttered.

"The guy? What guy?" Sascha seemed confused, glancing back at the stage. "Do you mean your guy? Hot Café Guy? Which one?" The worried tone in her voice brought me out of my daydreams. She was making connections in her mind that were nothing to worry about. Hot Café Guy was not Dale. I'd seen pictures of him, and she was the one who showed them to me.

"The guy at the back. Black hair, toned arms." The guy I'd been crushing on for the last two years. The guy I'd first seen at the campus café. The guy we'd dubbed the suitable nickname of Hot Café Guy because that was one of the only places I ever saw him.

"The guy of your wettest daydreams?" she finished for me with a smirk. I rolled my eyes at her, and she continued. "I can introduce you if you like."

I tore my eyes away from him to look at her. "You know him?"

"He's in the band with Dale. They're best mates."

"What's him name?" I asked. I'd been dying to know since the first time I saw him.

"Justin," she replied. "Justin Hart."

I froze.

Justin Hart.

He couldn't be. No way.

Sascha must have noticed the change in me. "Elle, what's the matter? Do you know him?"

I was shocked. Did I know him? Yes, I did. But how could I not recognise him? How much could a person change in twelve years? A whole lot, apparently. Surely I should have recognised something about him. Like the eyes! How did I not see it before?

"Who is he?" Sascha asked again.

I took a deep breath, a million thoughts running through my mind.

"Justin Hart is the son of the man who knocked up my mother."

Author's Note

Hi there!

My name is Kate and welcome! It's so nice that you've made it this far. I thought I might share a little about me, considering it's been a while since I've shared any stories. As a teenager, I loved to write. Way back in 2009, I found this little website called Wattpad and posted my first story under the name Kate-Dimka. After a long hiatus, a time in which I completed two university degrees, started my career, and grew up, I've finally returned to the hobby I love. Writing!

Out of the Blue is a story I've had playing out in my mind for years. It's been there, nagging me, quite literally every day since the initial storyline came to me years ago. Barely a day goes by where I don't think about the characters I've grown to love, and I hope that you'll enjoy their adventures as much as I do.

Please drop a comment and leave your feedback, or simply say hi. I would love to hear from you!

Cheers,

Kate