If We Ever Meet Again - Ana Huang Page 0,67

dug a groove into her palm.

“We’re not going to fall apart,” Farrah said.

We can’t.

“I hope not.” Courtney’s lip wobbled. “I just wanted us to be a family. I can’t stand the thought of ruining things again.”

Again?

That didn’t make sense. The group hadn’t had any major issues so far. But the sight of a teary-eyed Courtney was so strange, like seeing a lion run wild in the streets of Manhattan, that Farrah didn’t have a chance to dwell on her friend’s choice of words. She also didn’t dwell on why Courtney seemed more upset about the group breaking apart than she did about her breakup with Leo.

It was strange. Courtney was the bubbliest, most outgoing person in the group, but she was also the least forthcoming about her personal life. Even Kris shared more than she did. It wasn’t something you noticed until you really thought about it, because Courtney did such a good job of glossing over ugly realities and papering them with bright, shiny wallpaper.

“You won’t. Like you said, Leo will cool off and things will go back to normal,” Farrah said. She didn’t push Courtney for clarification on what she meant by “again.” She knew, better than anyone, that some secrets weren’t meant to be shared. “In the meantime, I have muffins from Sammy.” She raised the bag as proof. “Guaranteed to make you feel better or your money back, no questions asked.”

Courtney laughed. She dabbed a tear from her cheek and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Give me those.”

Farrah did.

She and Courtney spent the night binge-eating and watching K-dramas, and it felt so nice and comforting that Farrah almost forgot about Blake’s strange behavior. She still needed to talk to him, but that could wait.

Courtney needed her now.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Michelle Kwan, eat your heart out!” Farrah glided so gracefully around the rink one would think she’d been ice skating her whole life—if she wasn’t holding onto the hockey barrier the entire time.

Blake laughed at the triumphant glint in her eyes. Two hours ago, Farrah had never set foot in an ice rink. Now she swanned about like she was a world champion. The smallest achievement—a simple spin, a tiny jump—caused her face to light up with excitement.

It was fucking adorable.

“I’m sure Michelle Kwan’s Olympic medals are trembling in fear,” he teased.

“They should.” Farrah released the barrier and reached for Blake with her other hand. He slowed his pace, waiting for her to hit her stride before he led them to the middle of the rink.

The place was all decked out for Valentine’s Day. Twinkling lights and strings of pink, red, and white pennants crisscrossing overhead. A special concession stand sold hot cocoa, chocolates, and other assorted sweets on the sidelines, while a vendor wandered through the arena, hawking red roses to unsuspecting couples. An eclectic playlist of love songs that included everyone from Luther Vandross to Ariana Grande blasted through the loudspeakers.

“I’m a fast learner.” Farrah entwined her arms around Blake’s neck. “If I tried, I could have three Olympic medals.”

“Of course. You can do anything.” Blake brushed his lips over hers. She tasted like wine and chocolate and something that was quintessentially Farrah. If heaven had a taste, this would be it.

“You’re trying to suck up to me for sex tonight, aren’t you?”

“Hmm. I had something else in mind for sucking.”

Farrah’s cheeks turned the color of ripe tomatoes.

Blake chuckled. Farrah was a wildcat in bed, especially now that they’d done it a few (ok, dozens of) times, but she still got so flustered whenever he made jokes like that, he couldn’t help but tease her from time to time.

“Shhh! Someone might hear you.”

“Let ‘em. We have an awesome sex life. Maybe we’ll inspire them.”

Farrah shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Hmm.” She stepped closer until her body was flush against Blake’s. All his blood rushed south, leaving him so hard he thought he might shatter. “So can I.”

“Careful,” Blake growled. His pulse pounded with desire. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“I think we’ve established that I can finish.” Farrah hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pressed their hips together until his arousal nestled in the cleft between her thighs. His breath rushed in and out; his skin was so sensitive the slightest breeze caused him to jerk uncomfortably. “Me and you.”

The student had become the teacher.

Their lips touched in a sweet, warm kiss that didn’t match the dirty, unsweet thoughts racing through Blake’s mind.