If We Ever Meet Again - Ana Huang Page 0,28
a point.”
This was the first time she’d seen Leo since Thailand. He and Courtney said they made up after their fight, but the air between them remained tense. Leo had begged off every group dinner since they returned, citing schoolwork or homestay obligations.
“You look like you just ran a marathon.”
“Sort of. I went shopping with Kris.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
“I don’t know if Courtney told you, but Kris found out her dad’s getting remarried to some 26-year-old he met at a cocktail bar a few months ago. She’s pissed.” Farrah watched for a reaction to Courtney’s name.
“I wasn’t aware.” Leo’s face was as smooth and blank as marble. “That sucks.”
Time to stop beating around the bush. “What’s going on with you and Courtney?” Whatever it was, they needed to suck it up and make up—for real.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You had that big fight in Thailand, and things haven’t been the same since.”
Leo thumbed through his book. “They’ve been fine.”
“You’ve avoided us—correction, you’ve avoided Courtney—since we got back.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Bullshit.” Farrah slammed her hands on the armrests, causing Leo to jump. “Tell the truth. What’s going on? Are you guys breaking up?”
“We’re not dating.”
“I’m not an idiot. Neither of you has been with anyone else since the year started. In college world, that’s dating.”
“Really?” Leo arched an eyebrow. “Shall I pull out a dictionary?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
He flipped his book open and closed. “Look, Courtney’s a cool girl. She’s fun, and I enjoy hanging out with her. But…” He trailed off. His brows drew together in a deep V. “She can be a little…”
“Bossy?”
Leo shrugged.
“We all know she’s bossy. She knows she’s bossy. That’s part of her charm.”
“I guess.” Leo sighed. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to be with someone more chill. Someone like you, for example.”
Farrah choked on her spit. He didn’t say that. Did he just say that?
This was the moment she’d fantasized about since she first laid eyes on Leo.
She expected fireworks.
She expected sweaty palms and jitters in her stomach.
Instead, there was…nothing. The butterflies that used to take flight whenever she saw Leo didn’t so much as stir.
“Um, I—”
“Hypothetically.” Leo’s face crinkled into a smile. “I know I’m not your type.”
“You’re not?” That was news to her. Leo was exactly her type: tall, dark, handsome, sensitive, intelligent. He checked every box on her Ideal Guy checklist.
And yet, nothing.
Maybe she was so used to pining after him she didn’t notice the flutters anymore.
“Nah, you need someone who can challenge you. You’d get bored with me. The two of us would just sit around all day in our thoughts.”
She laughed. “There are worse things in life.”
“True, but it wouldn’t be very exciting.”
“Which is why you and Courtney are perfect. She talks enough for both of you.”
Leo’s laugh joined hers. “That she does.”
In the approaching dusk, Leo looked like a sculpture come to life. But as Farrah sat there across from the boy she’d fantasized about since the beginning of the semester, she felt nothing. No butterflies, no skipped heartbeats, no giddiness from his mere presence.
There was only one person who made her feel that way.
He was blond and cocky and infuriating, everything Farrah thought she didn’t want. But he was also sweet, thoughtful, and made her laugh in a way no one else could.
Oh god.
Farrah slid down in her chair. She ignored Leo’s questioning look and instead wondered how the hell she ended up falling for Blake Ryan.
Chapter Twelve
Blake was going to jump.
70 stories, 764 feet, and nothing but a rope to keep him from sailing into the afterlife at the tender young age of twenty-one.
It was a helluva bet.
Courtney’s birthday weekend could very well turn into Blake’s death weekend, but fuck it, what was life without some risks?
Beside him, Farrah clutched the railing with one hand and her necklace with the other, eyes wide and face deathly white. Terror emanated from her in waves.
“I can’t do this.” She tugged at her harness like it was too tight. “Take this off me. I can’t do it. I’m going to die.”
“It’ll be ok,” the bungee jump operator said soothingly. “We’ve done thousands of these jumps; we know what we’re doing. Our safety equipment is top of the line.”
“Pass.” Farrah backed away and tugged at her harness again. Her breath came out in short, panicked puffs.
The operator looked at Blake, the only person in their group who had yet to jump besides Farrah.
“I’ll talk to her,” Blake said. “Give us a minute.”
He walked over to Farrah and placed his