If We Ever Meet Again - Ana Huang Page 0,7
corner of 808.
They weren’t dating, per se, but they were hooking up with each other exclusively. In college, that was basically the same as dating.
Farrah sipped her drink and scanned the bar to avoid looking at the couple. Gino’s was like an American college bar on steroids. Throngs of students, local and international, crowded around tables heaped high with burgers, fries, and alcohol. The latest Top 40 hits from the States blasted through ceiling-mounted speakers, muffling the cheers from the two beer pong tables in the back. Graffiti from past patrons covered every wall and crept onto the ceiling.
Farrah zeroed in on the messages closest to their table. Be nice to your cab driver, someone advised in black marker, or they’ll leave you in the middle of nowhere. Above that was a random phone number, and above that, a simple hashtag: #ballsballsballs.
Gotta love bar graffiti.
Olivia leaned toward Farrah. “You ok?” she whispered. She was the only one who knew about Farrah’s crush.
“Yes,” Farrah lied. Courtney was her friend, Leo was Courtney’s (sort of), and that was that. Besides, Farrah wasn’t a stranger to unrequited love. She had a habit of falling for guys she couldn’t have, even when she didn’t know they were taken yet. “I’m over it.”
Olivia appeared unconvinced.
“What are you talking about?” Sammy poked his head over Olivia’s shoulder. “Tell me.”
“The mind-your-business gene.” Olivia smiled despite her words. It was hard not to smile around Sammy.
“C’mon, I won’t tell. I can keep a secret.” Sammy wiggled his eyebrows. “Is it something naughty?”
“You wish.” Farrah threw a fry at him. “Is sex the only thing guys think about?”
“No. Sometimes we think about food.” Sammy caught the fry and tossed it in his mouth.
Olivia jabbed her elbow into his side. He tickled her in response, causing her to squeal and nearly fall off the bench from laughter.
Farrah hid her grin behind her glass.
“Oh, look. There’s the Uncouth One himself, bearing gifts.” Kris raised her eyebrows. “Including one Blake Ryan. How thoughtful.”
Farrah’s head whipped around.
Luke bore down on them with a fishbowl cocktail in each hand and Blake in tow.
“Talking shit again, Kris?” Luke set the drinks on the table.
“You couldn’t possibly have heard me over the noise.”
“I didn’t need to. You’re always talking shit.”
Courtney laughed. “He has a point.”
“Whose side are you on?” Kris harrumphed.
“Yours, of course.” Courtney patted Kris’s hand. “You are my sorority sister.”
Besides Sammy and Nardo, who were best friends and classmates at Harvey Mudd, Kris and Courtney were the only ones in FEA who’d known each other before the program started.
“Twice in one night.” Blake winked at Farrah. “I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me.”
“I was here first.”
“That’s what they all say.” Blake handed Farrah a bottle of beer. “Drink?”
“I don’t like beer.”
“C’mon, live a little. Get outside your comfort zone.”
“Drinking beer is hardly living.” Nevertheless, Farrah swiped the Tsingtao from him. His hand brushed hers, and another electric current sizzled over her skin.
She popped open the cap and took a swig, grimacing at the taste.
Blake laughed at her expression. “You really don’t like beer.”
“It tastes like urine.”
“How do you know what urine tastes like?”
Farrah took another swig. “I can’t talk to you. You’re exhausting.”
“That’s ok. There are other things we can do besides talk. Can’t guarantee they’ll be less exhausting, though.”
Blake sat across from her. Even in a plain black V-neck tee and jeans, he looked like he just stepped off the cover of GQ. The shirt showed off his broad shoulders and muscular arms, and his skin glowed golden in the bar’s dim lighting.
Blake caught her staring and flashed a cocky grin. “Like what you see?” he mouthed.
“I’ve seen better,” she mouthed back. She had. In the sculpture sections of Italy’s art museums.
Blake smirked with the confidence of someone who knew he was the hottest guy in the room.
Luke said something to him. When Blake turned his head to reply, Olivia grabbed Farrah’s arm. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That.” She gestured at Blake. “I almost melted from the sexual tension.”
“Ha! You’ve been drinking too much.” Farrah had never heard anything more absurd. “There was no sexual tension.”
“Oh, honey. Yes, there was. Why deny it? Blake is hot.” Olivia lowered her voice. “He’ll help you get over you-know-who. Like they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”
For the first time in her life, Farrah was thankful for the red flush that took over her face every time she drank alcohol. It concealed the heated embarrassment on her cheeks.
“He’s