Page List


Font:  

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 wanted: her. All of her.

And if she wasn’t careful, she might just give it to him.

Sex aside, Farrah had forgotten how easy it was to talk to Blake. How safe he made her feel. How hard he made her laugh. All the things that made her fall in love with him the first time around had the potential to do so again, maybe even more, because she’d realized her feelings for him were the exception, not the rule. He was the only guy who could turn her inside out with one smile.

She didn’t trust him, not completely. But he was inching his way deeper past her defenses, and one day, she’d have to decide whether to wave the white flag or go out in a blaze of glory.

One day. Not today.

“What are you doing after this?” Blake ran one warm, rough hand up her thigh, and her core wept in response.

They’d had enough sex to repopulate an army this past week. You’d think her body would be all tapped out, but no, she was soaking wet in the middle of a barbecue with her friends.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to say ‘you,’” Farrah whispered, tightening the leash on her self-control.

Blake chuckled, his gaze gleaming with lazy male satisfaction. “I see someone has sex on their mind,” he drawled. “I was going to ask if you wanted to hit up the Brooklyn Botanic Garden—there’s a special night exhibit running there through the end of the month—but I’m down for something kinky too.” He paused. “We could do something kinky in the garden. That’ll spice things up.” His fingers hit the edge of her panties beneath the table.

Farrah swallowed and glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Kris and Nate were laughing at something on his phone, Courtney and Nardo were arguing about Black Mirror, and Sammy and Olivia were busy ignoring each other.

“We are not getting kinky in a garden.” She grasped his hand and placed it back in his lap. Her hand brushed his impressive hard-on, and molten lava spilled into her lower belly. “And what do you mean, spice things up? Bored already?”

Blake’s eyes glittered like pristine glacial lakes in the sun. “Never.”

A thick rope of unspoken words stretched between them.

Farrah faked a cough, cutting the cord. “You’re not the garden type. Besides, this sounds like a date.” Dates weren’t part of the deal. They weren’t not part of the deal, but she was too afraid to go down that path yet.

Blake shrugged. “Heard about it from Landon, thought it sounded interesting. Besides, you like gardens, and it’s not a date.”


Tags: Ana Huang If Love Romance