If We Ever Meet Again - Ana Huang Page 0,10

magazines tucked under her arm.

Now there was trouble. Farrah was beautiful, and Blake got a kick out of riling her up, but she was off-limits. Not only was she in FEA—which meant he had to see her every day if things between them went south—but she was a virgin.

Blake slept with a virgin once, in high school. Granted, he didn’t know Lorna was a virgin until after the fact, and when he declined to make things exclusive between them, she took a key to his beloved Chevy until it resembled Freddy Krueger’s face.

Fun times.

Then Lorna’s father found out Blake slept with his precious daughter and tracked him down after football practice with a shotgun in hand. Luckily, Blake’s coach saw them and called the police before Blake found himself eating dirt six feet beneath the ground. The police let the man off with a stern warning, since he technically hadn’t tried to shoot Blake (yet), but Blake still filed a restraining order against the girl’s entire damn family.

Even funner times.

Lorna transferred schools soon after, and Blake swore never to hook up with a virgin again. That didn’t mean he couldn’t flirt with Farrah, though. Flirting was harmless.

He retook his seat, laced his hands behind his head, and kicked his feet up on the table with an insouciant smile.

Farrah arched an eyebrow at his unorthodox position. Instead of commenting, she sat at the table next to him and opened one of her magazines.

Blake stretched his arms over his head in a way that showed off his abs—one of his best assets. Along with everything else on his body.

It ain’t cocky if it’s true.

To his annoyance, Farrah didn’t look up. She continued to read, serene as a monk.

Blake swung his feet to the floor. He walked over to her table, plunked his ass in the chair opposite hers, and rested his chin in his hands.

The clock ticked. The A/C hummed. The pages rustled as she turned them.

Finally, Farrah slammed her magazine shut with a huff. “Can I help you?”

Blake grinned. Success!

“Now is that the proper way to greet someone?” he drawled. Austinites don’t have strong accents, but he could lay it on thick when he wanted to. “Didn’t your mama teach you manners?”

“She did. That’s why I left you and your vanity in peace. It would’ve been rude to interrupt.”

Blake placed a hand over his chest. “Vain? Me? You break my heart.”

“I doubt anyone can break your heart.” Farrah fluttered her lashes. “If they do, the proofs from your solo photoshoot earlier will ease the pain.”

His body vibrated with laughter. “You know, I’m down-to-earth once you get to know me.”

“Is that your favorite thing about yourself?”

“Favorite, as in one? I can’t pick just one.” He frowned. “Oh. I see.”

“Uh-huh. Now that we’ve established the obvious fact of your vanity, can you be quiet? I’m trying to work.”

“So am I.”

“You are not working.”

“I was working until you came in and interrupted me.”

“I didn’t say anything when I came in!”

“You distracted me with your radiant presence. It was like a goddess descended from the heavens. How can I focus on something as mundane as Chinese vocabulary when faced with such an extraordinary vision?”

Farrah’s mouth twitched once, twice, until she caved and doubled over with laughter.

A grin stretched across Blake’s face. There was something magical about seeing someone so composed let loose, and to know he was the one who made her laugh like that.

“I don’t know what to do with you.” She wiped tears from her eyes.

“I can suggest a few things.” Blake pictured Farrah climbing into his lap and straddling him. Taking his shirt off. Taking her shirt off. Gripping his hair and moaning while he feasted on those sure-to-be delectable breasts of hers.

Hey, he was a guy. He couldn’t help himself.

Except this guy now needed a cold shower.

Blake discreetly adjusted himself under the table. He liked having a dick. He and Junior got along great. But sometimes the friend downstairs popped up at the most inconvenient moments.

“Anyway, you’re reading…Vogue?” Blake squinted at the magazine cover. “I can’t imagine that’s part of the syllabus.”

“First of all, this is Vogue China, which means I’m practicing my Chinese reading skills. Second of all, it’s not for FEA. It’s—” Farrah hesitated. “Never mind.”

Blake’s intrigue radar blipped. “You can’t leave me hanging like that. What’s it for?”

Farrah sighed. “Every year, the National Interior Design Association hosts a student competition. The winner gets an all-expenses-paid summer internship at the NIDA member firm of their choice. It’s one of