Chapter 3

                                    

                                          
Ophelia's POV
                          
It was currently 6pm, and my music was blasting throughout my apartment. 
                          
Sorry neighbours. 
                          
The loud music is my attempt at trying to calm myself down about how tonight may unfold. 
                          
Is it working? Debatable. 
                          
I mean, I know that nothing bad will happen. I only spent about 15 minutes with Niall but he just gave off such a genuine, nice vibe that I don't see tonight going south in any way.  
                          
I feel like I'm a pretty good judge of character based on first impressions. 
                          
'Did you suddenly forget about Denver?' My subconscious reminds me. 
                          
Fuck off brain. 
                          
I shake my head and bring myself back to reality.
                          
No more of that Ophelia, focus on tonight. 
                          
I'm kind of excited for Jenna to meet Niall, I think they'll get on great, once Jenna wraps her head around what I've gotten us into. 
                          
Smiling, I look up at her from the end of my bed.  She notices my smile and lets out a sigh. 
                          
"What the hell did you get us into Ophelia", Jenna complained as she curled her hair.  
                          
I wish I could tell you myself but I honestly don't know.
                          
"Oh be quiet, you'll love Niall. What's wrong with a little bit of harmless fun? We can always leave whenever Jen" I try to reassure her.
                          
I knew deep down that I was also reassuring myself, my stomach churning as the clock ticked closer and closer to 7pm.
                          
"He's a stranger for fucks sake, maybe this night of harmless fun will be our last."
                          
If she doesn't stop with this attitude, I'll make sure it's her last night.  Kidding....
                          
I roll my eyes at her pessimistic tone.  "You are so dramatic, shut the fuck up and take another shot with me." 
                          
She glares at me as she grabs the bottle and pour us two hefty tequila shots, "you're lucky you're my best friend" she says.  
                          
"Don't I fucking know it.  Bottoms up!"  
                          
We clink our shot glasses and down the bitter tasting solution.  
                          
God, does the taste of tequila ever get better?
                          
"That's fucking terrible" Jenna says, grimacing at the taste. "At least tell me this guy is cute."
                          
"Jen...", I trail off with a warning. "You know I'm not looking for anything at the moment." 
                          
After the way things ended with Denver, a relationship was the last thing on my mind.
                          
I really thought that it was going well, we never put a label on it but we definitely had more than just a 'friends with benefits' relationship. 
                          
We went on dates together, met each other's families, and we even went on weekend holidays together. 
                          
We were essentially dating but without a title, for one whole year. Then, like the oh so lucky person I am, I got fucked over. 
                          
So here I am .... single and not yet ready to mingle.  
                          
I can imagine that it'd be a turn off to some guys when they realize that I'm still stuck on a guy who didn't even care about me to begin with.
                          
Yikes. I'm a fucking mess aren't I.