mean to bring up such a depressing topic, especially on Valentine’s Day.” Farrah laced their fingers together. “Let’s focus on something else. Like what we’re going to do when we get back to the dorm.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I have a long to-do list. Pun intended.”
Blake forced a smile as his stomach heaved. All traces of arousal had disappeared, replaced by panic.
Forget telling Farrah about what happened with Cleo over New Year’s.
She couldn’t find out.
Ever.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Tell me about this Blake.” Farrah’s mom appraised her daughter with a hawk’s eye. “Who is he? Where is he from? What is he studying? How does he treat you?”
“Mom, stop.” Farrah crossed her legs and adjusted her laptop to minimize the screen glare. “We’re not playing Twenty Questions.”
“Those are valid questions. I’ve never heard you sound as giddy as when you’re talking about this boy,” Cheryl teased. “I’m your mother. You should tell me these things.”
“You’d like him.” Farrah grinned at the thought of Blake meeting her mother. He was tough, but Cheryl would destroy him in a second if he stepped over the line. “He’s from Austin. He’s a senior at Southeastern Texas. He used to be the quarterback of their football team.”
“Used to be?”
“He—” Farrah hesitated. “He decided he doesn’t want a career in football.”
“He’s right. Sports are dangerous. One wrong hit and you’re out. At least he has common sense.” Cheryl nodded in approval. “So what does he want to do?”
“He’s studying business.”
“What kind of business? Is he planning on getting an MBA? Did he get into any MBA programs? Is he going to Wharton?” Cheryl lit up. “That’s a great program. Graduate from there, and you’re set for life.”
Farrah was used to her mom’s endless questions about her love life, but they never made her nervous—until now. “He’s opening his own business.”
“What kind of business?”
“Er, a restaurant.” Her mom wouldn’t take kindly to “sports bar.” She considered them “low-class” establishments.
“What kind of restaurant?”
“Mom!”
“You can’t blame me for being curious. I want to know about the boy my daughter is so infatuated with. What’s his GPA?”
Farrah groaned. “How am I supposed to know his GPA?”
“You ask him.”
“I am not asking him.”
“Why not?”
“Because. It’s invasive.”
“You’re not giving him a colonoscopy. You’re asking what his grades are. A good GPA leads to a good job and a good life. Remember that.”
“That is so antiquated. There are plenty of successful people who didn’t graduate college. Look at Bill Gates and Steve Jobs.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Cheryl raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t realize he invented the next Microsoft and Apple. Send me a demo so I can show it off to my friends.”
“Har-har.” Farrah threw a popcorn kernel at the screen while her mom laughed. “I’m just saying, grades aren’t everything. Blake’s smart and works hard. And I really like him.”
Cheryl’s face softened. “I can tell. I’m glad you found someone you like so much. As long as he treats you well and isn’t a dum-dum.” She shuddered. “Don’t marry a stupid guy or spend the rest of your life taking care of him.”
“Mom, I’m wayyy too young to think about marriage.”
“I’m not saying get married now. You’re almost twenty. By the time you graduate, get a job, and date for a few years, it’ll be time. You don’t want to wait too long to have babies. You won’t have the energy to run after them. Take me, for example.”
“Hey! I was a good baby,” Farrah protested. “Besides, you had me when you were twenty-eight.”
“Yes, and it would’ve been easier if I had you when I was twenty-five.”
Over Farrah’s dead body. “I want to enjoy my twenties, thank you very much.”
Cheryl shook her head. “You’re young. You don’t listen to me now, but you’ll see.”
“How did we get on this subject?” Farrah uncrossed her legs and shook them out. Tingles shot up and down her thighs and shins. “It doesn’t matter. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“Drama at the association, as usual.” Cheryl was a member of a local Chinese dance association that, technically, focused on ballroom dancing but was really an excuse for L.A.’s older Chinese community to gather weekly and gossip. “Elections for the presidency are coming up, and everyone’s fighting over it. So stupid.”
Cheryl always complained about the other members but refused to take Farrah’s advice and quit. Then again, between the dance outings, potlucks, holiday parties, and weekend trips to Canada, she had a better social life than Farrah.
“You should run for president.”
“Ha! I go to dance and eat free