If We Ever Meet Again - Ana Huang Page 0,31

idiot. You’re hot!”

“Ok, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Farrah Lin, if you make one more excuse, I’m going to shove my foot up your ass. Go!”

Ok. She could do this. She was asking Blake to dance, not to marry her.

Farrah forced herself to walk to the bar. Her stomach cramped harder with every step.

Luke noticed her first. “Sup?”

“Sup. I mean, hi.” Nice.

Blake’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “I see you’re here to claim your drink.”

“What? Oh, my drink!” Right. The post-jump drink he’d promised her. “That’s why I’m here,” Farrah said, relieved to have an excuse.

“How does a double tequila shot sound?”

It sounded terrible, but she needed liquid courage. “Perfect.”

As Blake placed the order, Farrah worked on taming her nerves. She jumped off a fucking tower tonight, for Pete’s sake. She shouldn’t be this nervous over a simple dance.

“I need to pee before I drink more tequila,” Luke announced.

Farrah eyed the yellowish-brown liquid in her shot glass and wrinkled her nose.

“Uh, thanks for letting us know.” Blake clapped Luke on the shoulder. “Go do your thing, man.”

“Peace.” Luke threw up the peace sign and ambled off. He was so tall he towered over everyone else in the club.

“He’s so gone,” Farrah said.

“Oh yeah, he’s done. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t puke all over our bathroom tonight.” Blake sprinkled salt on the skin between his thumb and forefinger and handed the shaker to her.

She did the same.

“To conquering fears.”

“To conquering fears.” Farrah clinked her glass against Blake’s and downed the tequila. She grimaced and bit into her lime wedge, letting the sour fruit balance the flavor of the alcohol burning its way down her throat.

God, tequila shots were gross. On the bright side, it didn’t take long for her buzz to return and smooth her frayed nerves.

This was it. Time to ask him. “Who’s the girl?”

Wait. That wasn’t the right question.

Blake tilted his head. “What girl?”

“The girl I saw coming out of your room the night we went to Moller Villa.” Farrah had avoided asking or thinking about Mystery Girl since that night, but now she couldn’t stop thinking about her. It didn’t take a genius to realize what Blake and Mystery Girl had been up to.

Was it a onetime thing, or was he still seeing her?

Farrah fought the urge to dry heave. Yep, the post-jump high was 100% gone.

Discomfort filled Blake’s face. “She’s a girl I was seeing.”

“Seeing,” meaning more than once.

“Was,” as in past tense.

“Oh.” Farrah fiddled with her empty glass. “What’s her name?”

“Mina.”

“She’s really pretty.”

The discomfort deepened. “I guess.”

“Are you still seeing her?”

“She’s leaving Shanghai next week. I might say goodbye.”

“Wow, that’s romantic.” It came out more sarcastic than she intended. What was wrong with her?

Farrah’s head swam. The tequila shot was not a good idea.

Blake scowled. “Ours isn’t a romantic relationship. We knew going in that it was going to be purely physical. I know that’s hard for you to understand—”

“Wow.” Farrah sucked in a breath. “Why is it hard for me to understand? Because I’m a virgin? That doesn’t mean I grew up in a nunnery, Blake. I know what hookup buddies are.”

“No! You’re taking this the wrong way.” Blake raked a hand through his hair, his face taut with frustration. “I meant you’re a romantic. You said it yourself. You believe in The One and epic love and all that. I don’t. That’s not what I came here for.”

He was right. He’d said it all along. Blake didn’t believe in love. Farrah was a fool to forget that. She’d been so caught up in her daydreams she ignored what was right in front of her and read too much into every glance, every word, every action. When Blake took her to dinner and gave her that pep talk on the tower, it wasn’t because he liked her. He was just being a good friend.

Good friends had their place, but Farrah was sick of falling for guys she couldn’t have. They were always either emotionally unavailable, like Blake, or literally unavailable, like Leo.

She needed to stop living in the clouds and return to reality.

“Maybe it’s not what I came here for either.” Farrah grabbed the drink nearest to her and chugged it. Vodka. Blech.

“Hey!” the owner of the drink protested.

The buzz intensified. Her heart beat fast with adrenaline.

“I can have casual hookups,” Farrah said. “I’ll prove it.”

Blake’s brow knit into a frown. “Farrah…” His voice carried a warning.

Farrah ignored it. She grabbed the drink owner’s shirt. He was young. Decent-looking. He’ll do. “You. Are you single?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Good.