When she first quit KBI, she’d been intent on joining another firm. She liked having a stable paycheck, and she still had so much to learn about the industry. But after Blake’s and Yuliya’s projects, she realized how nice it felt to set her own hours and have full creative control over her vision (except for the client’s input). Sure, the business side of things gave her a major headache—taxes and bookkeeping were the work of the devil—but she was doing pretty well for herself, all things considering. Yuliya had even recommended her to one of her magazine editor friends, and Farrah was in the midst of closing the deal.
So why didn’t she go all-in on the independent route? What was she afraid of?
Whatever your fear is, or however far you fall—you’ll survive. And I’ll be there to catch you.
Here was the crazy part: Farrah believed Blake.
Even though he hadn’t contacted her in a week. Even if her brain swarmed with conspiracy theories about his absence.
She didn’t know how or when it happened, but she trusted him. Not only about what she was capable of, but about…everything. Blake was dangerous, as any person who had the power to break you was, but he was also her safety net. The person she turned to when she needed comfort and support.
Maybe it was the sincerity in his eyes when he promised he’d do anything to help her after they ran into Kelly and Matt. Maybe it was the way he pushed her to be a better, stronger version of herself. Or maybe it was just him—the way he filled her soul and made her believe in love, in fate, and in destiny, not only as abstract concepts but as something real. Tangible.
Whatever it was, Blake had, once again, breached her defenses. She should’ve known it was only a ma
tter of time—once Blake Ryan set his sights on something, he didn’t stop until he got it.
And he got her.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Farrah went to see Blake the next day.
She was tired of waiting for him to reach out, and she needed clarity before her paranoia drove her crazy. It didn’t help that she was still reeling from her revelation of how easily he’d burrowed himself inside her heart a second time.
Then again, he’d never left.
But when Blake swung open his door, Farrah wondered if she’d made the wrong decision.
Because the man standing in front of her? She didn’t recognize him.
He had the same golden hair, crystal eyes, and sculpted muscles, but his playful, cocky smile was missing in action, and he surveyed her like she was a stranger.
Blake, normal Blake, never looked at her like that.
Don’t jump to conclusions.
“Hey.” Farrah flashed an easy smile even as her heart thumped in warning. “Haven’t heard from you in a while so thought I’d swing by.”
“Sorry.” He stepped aside to let her in. “I’ve been busy.”
“I figured.”
The smell of booze assaulted her the instant she walked into the apartment. Farrah wrinkled her nose. What the—
Her eyes widened when she saw the pile of empty beer and whiskey bottles on the kitchen counter. She whipped her head toward Blake, who watched her reaction with curious apathy.
He didn’t appear drunk. No slurring of the words, no unsteadiness on his feet, no redness in his face. Then again, Blake was the type who could be hammered, and you wouldn’t know it unless he threw up or passed out.
“What’s going on?” The unease in her stomach spread. “Is everything okay?”
Blake had been fine when he left for Texas. Something must’ve happened, either with his bar or his family. He didn’t have a great relationship with his father.
Something flickered in his eyes. “I’m fine, but I’d rather be alone. It’s a whiskey and me kinda night. No intruders allowed.”
His cool, dry delivery made his words sting even more.