If the Sun Never Sets - Ana Huang Page 0,20
can bring you to—”
“Nowhere.” Blake’s gaze drilled into Justin, who looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Don’t you have other customers to tend to?”
“Sure, but none are as beautiful.” Justin winked at Farrah again, causing her to blush. “But I should return to work before I get into any more trouble. With my boss, I mean.”
The Egret’s manager was the chillest dude on the planet and didn’t give two fucks about what his staff did as long as no customers complained.
Justin slid a sly glance in an apoplectic Blake’s direction before refocusing on Farrah. “Holler if you need anything, beautiful.” He sauntered off before Blake could wring his neck.
Farrah smiled at the bartender’s departing back. “He’s so nice.”
“Nice? He’s the biggest manwhore in the five boroughs,” Blake fumed. “Trust me when I say he was not talking about a stroll along the High Line when he offered to ‘show you around.’”
Farrah brushed off his concern. “It was harmless flirting. He’s charming and quite hot. I can see why he’s such a hit with the ladies.” Her gaze followed Justin as he made drinks for a group of older women who blatantly ogled him. “I’m not usually a tattoos girl but he makes them work.”
Blake hadn’t started the night planning murder, but if that was how it had to end, so be it.
“He only got those tattoos to pick up girls,” he growled, even though he wasn’t sure if that was true. “And that’s not the only thing he picked up.”
Sure, insinuating Justin had STDs was petty, but Blake didn’t give a shit.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Farrah said, not looking concerned enough for his liking. She bit into her burger, and her eyes widened. “Oh my God. This is incredible.”
“Told you. Best burgers in the city.” Some of Blake’s ire melted at the blissful look on her face. “Try the fries. They put a special house seasoning on them.”
“Mmm. Mmhmm.” Farrah stuffed her mouth full of fries and nodded.
Blake laughed. “In exchange for good food, I think it’s only fair you tell me what happened on your date tonight. It must’ve been bad for you to resort to drinking red wine.”
His best course of action was to redirect Farrah’s attention toward a topic that had nothing to do with tattoos or bartenders. If that topic happened to be a shitty date, even better.
His next best course of action would be to punch Justin in the face, but that was a backup plan in case the other man was dumb enough to flirt with Farrah again.
Farrah swallowed and wiped her mouth. “Fine. But no laughing. Promise.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
As Farrah recounted her story, Blake had to call on every shred of willpower not to burst into laughter. Jesus, her date sounded like something out of the movies.
“I can’t believe you threw a drink in his face,” he chortled.
“Neither can I, but he was such a jerk.” Farrah side-eyed him. “Why do you look so happy?”
“I’m not happy,” Blake said with a wide grin. His earlier anger toward Justin had simmered down…though he would still punch his so-called friend in the face for trying to get into Farrah’s pants if he had the chance.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying my misery.” She nudged him with her foot, and his stomach did a stupid little flip.
“Hey, it all turned out for the best. You’re not miserable now, are you?”
“No,” she said with no small amount of reluctance. “I’m not.”
Their gazes met. Blake’s heartbeat ratcheted up another notch. Her eyes never failed to mesmerize him. They held him willing captive, sucking him in until he got lost in their endless dark depths.
In that moment, he could almost imagine they were on a date. The banter, the laughter, the sizzle of awareness between them…it felt like old times.
That adage about time healing all wounds? Bullshit.
There’d been a hole in Blake’s heart since the day he and Farrah broke up, and no matter how many years passed, it remained as empty as ever.
Until now.
Farrah tried to hide it, but Blake spotted a flicker of emotion in her eyes. It wasn’t love—not the love that used to fill him with so much warmth he thought he’d never need the sun again. But it was the first crack in her icy mask since they’d reunited, and it was enough to send hope spiraling through his chest and into the space her love used to occupy.
Chapter Eleven
Six (ish) hours later
This was a Bad Idea. Capital