If the Sun Never Sets - Ana Huang Page 0,54

piece by piece. Her friendship. Her trust. Her love. Her heart.

He wanted all of her, and this time he wasn’t going to fuck it up.

But until that day came, Blake would settle for anything she was willing to give him, because even a piece of Farrah was better than all of anyone else.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“This is like old times.” Courtney propped her chin in her hand, nostalgia wafting from her in waves. “We’re missing Leo and Luke, but seven out of nine ain’t bad. Plus Nate, of course.” She winked at the actor, who exuded movie-star charisma even in a faded green T-shirt and jeans.

“Thanks for the shoutout. I was beginning to feel like an eighth wheel,” he quipped, encircling Kris’s waist with one arm. Kris perched on his lap, dressed to the nines in a pleated white sundress, sky-high wedges, and a tangle of 14K gold necklaces.

Farrah wasn’t sure a $500 designer dress was the best thing to wear to a barbecue, but that was Kris for you. The girl wore diamonds to the gym. Diamond studs, but still. Kris was allergic to dressing down.

“How’s the movie going?” Sammy’s tan popped against his white shirt, and his muscles flexed against his shirtsleeves as he flipped the burgers on the grill.

Farrah slid a glance toward Olivia, who stared at her ex-boyfriend and chugged her watermelon juice like she was trying to quench the Sahara.

A grin spread across Farrah’s face.

Oh, Liv.

“There were a few issues with my co-star, but it worked out,” Nate said. “We wrapped up the New York portion of the shoot yesterday. We’ll shoot the rest back in L.A.”

“Very cool.” Sammy nodded.

“Hey, Liv, why don’t you help Sammy with the burgers?” Farrah suggested. “You look bored, and he’s manning the grill all by himself.”

Sammy and Olivia both flushed red.

“I can handle it. Grilling isn’t a team activity.” Sammy shot Farrah a warning glance, which she ignored.

Consider it payback for Sammy keeping Blake’s secret all these years.

Okay, fine, it hadn’t been Sammy’s secret to tell, but that didn’t mean a thing to Farrah’s petty side.

“She can help you pass out the burgers,” Farrah said. “Efficiency. Liv’s favorite thing.”

I’m going to murder you in your sleep, Olivia’s eyes warned.

I’ll lock my door, Farrah retorted.

Her roommate slammed her drink on the table and stalked to the grill, where she and Sammy stood with matching expressions of discomfort.

Nardo Crescas clucked his tongue. “Farrah. Come on.”

“I’m trying to help,” she whispered. “It’s about time Sammy and Olivia got over their little feud, don’t you think?”

“A feud is defined as a ‘prolonged and bitter quarrel or dispute.’ Therefore, ‘little feud’ is an oxymoron.”

Courtney snorted while Farrah rubbed her temple. Some things never changed.

Nardo, Sammy’s best friend from college and another member of their study abroad group, wasn’t as scrawny as he used to be, and he seemed a smidge less uptight, but he still talked like he was trying out for the role of Human Encyclopedia. Farrah wondered if everyone at his job talked like that. Nardo was an economist at the Department of Treasury, and he wore the unofficial straight-man-in-Washington-D.C. uniform: khakis paired with a gingham button-down. Bonus points for the oh-so-intellectual, black-framed glasses.

While everyone else had already been in New York, Nardo drove up from D.C. yesterday to celebrate Sammy’s pop-up bakery opening, which had been a smash success. Crumble & Bake was the hottest new thing in town, and Farrah couldn’t be happier for her friend.

By sheer luck, Sammy’s opening coincided with Kris and Courtney’s visit, and he’d decided to host an FEA reunion/pre-July Fourth barbecue at his Brooklyn brownstone rental. Luke was in Wisconsin and Leo was on a book tour in Europe, but otherwise, everyone in their Shanghai circle was present and accounted for.

Including Blake.

Farrah’s mouth dried when he stepped into the backyard, a god among mortals with his golden hair and sinful body. Memories of what she’d done to said body that morning before they arrived at Sammy’s house flooded her mind, and her face turned the color of Olivia’s watermelon juice.

“Sam, the ice is in the kitchen,” Blake said, clapping his friend on the back. He’d volunteered to run to the corner store for more ice earlier.

“Thanks, man.” Sammy nodded.

Blake slid into the empty seat next to Farrah at the picnic table. “Hey.” His dimples flashed.

“Hey.” The velvety tips of butterfly wings brushed Farrah’s heart.

She was treading dangerous waters. Her arrangement with Blake was the stupidest thing she could’ve agreed to since he’d made it clear what he