“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 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.”
“It’s not.” Skepticism turned what would’ve been a question into a statement.
“Nope. If it were a date, I’d bring you flowers, not bring you to flowers.”
Farrah burst into laughter, and the grin on Blake’s face widened.
“Here.” Olivia plunked a burger in front of Farrah, interrupting her mirth. “Be grateful I didn’t spit in it.” She frowned at the man sitting next to her roommate. “Blake.”
“Liv.”
Farrah had told her friends about her arrangement with Blake because she didn’t need the added stress of more secrets. Sammy had been thrilled, Kris indifferent, Courtney excited, and Olivia upset. She was the closest to Farrah and, therefore, the most protective. Not to mention, the girl had a memory like a steel trap. Time had smoothed the animosity Kris and Courtney held toward Blake, but Olivia remembered it well. She’d been wary, even after Farrah explained the real reason Blake broke up with her.
Nardo’s eyebrows rose when he saw Blake and Farrah together at Sammy’s opening, but he hadn’t said anything, so Farrah mentally lumped him in the “indifferent” camp.
A doorbell rang deep in the house.
“I’ll get it,” Sammy said. “Nardo, you mind taking over for me real quick?”
“No problem.” Nardo cast a strange look in Olivia’s direction while Sammy went to answer the door.
“Just so you know,” Olivia told Blake. “If you hurt Farrah again, I’ll string you up by your balls and drop you in the middle of an ax-throwing competition.”
Blake’s smile didn’t budge. “Noted. Bonus points for creativity. Your Yale degree is wasted on finance instead of screenwriting.”
Farrah couldn’t resist another laugh as Olivia huffed at Blake’s blasé response.
“I mean it.” Olivia poked a finger at Blake’s chest. “Orgasms only. No heartbreak allowed.”
This time, Blake was the one who laughed while Farrah blanched in horror.
“Liv!”
“Don’t worry,” Blake said, draping an arm over Farrah’s shoulder. “Orgasms are a guarantee, and heartbreak is not on the menu.”
“Who’s guaranteeing orgasms?” Courtney butted into their conversation.
Before anyone could answer, Kris let loose an expletive. “Who the fuck is that?”
Their heads swiveled toward the entrance to the house. Sammy had returned…with a gorgeous, leggy blonde in tow. The mystery woman had a face that could put Charlize Theron to shame, and she wore a stylish red jumpsuit that Farrah recognized from the latest issue of Mode de Vie.
“Hi, Nardo,” the blonde lilted.
“Hey, Jess.” Nardo cast another wary glance at Olivia, who was frowning at the newcomer.
Sammy cleared his throat. “Guys, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Jessica. Jess, this is everyone.” He introduced the group, tripping over Olivia’s name.
Silence greeted his announcement.
Shock slid through Farrah’s veins. Girlfriend? Sammy hadn’t so much as hinted at a girlfriend before today.
Nate was the first to speak. “Nice to meet you, Jessica. I’m Nate.” He reintroduced himself even though he was the last person who needed a reintroduction.
Jessica smiled. “I know who you are.” No fangirling, no blushing. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“She just arrived in New York. She couldn’t make it to the opening yesterday because she had a court case,” Sammy explained.
“Oh. Are you a lawyer?” Kris’s tone indicated she couldn’t care less about the answer.
“Technology law, which is why the Bay Area is my stomping grounds. You can say a lot of things about Silicon Valley, but it’s never boring.” Jessica smiled.
Kris yawned. “Fascinating.”
Farrah snuck a peek at Olivia. She’d wiped the expression from her face, but Farrah could read the tense set of her shoulders and the way she fiddled with her watch strap. Olivia was pissed.
Nate cleared his throat. “Hey, why don’t we eat before the food gets cold? Hot dogs are on the grill, but the burgers are done. Let’s dig in.”
The clatter of plastic utensils and light chatter broke the tension, but an undercurrent of unease remained.
“Looks like I’m not the only person Olivia wants to drop into the middle of an axe-throwing competition,” Blake murmured. “I thought she and Sammy have been over for a while.”
“It’s complicated.”
Olivia was not the type who liked to discuss her feelings in public, so Farrah spared her friend the third degree for now.
Reminder: stock up on Ben & Jerry’s before I go home.
“Complicated, I get. But you know what’s simple?” Blake wiggled his eyebrows. “A nighttime walk through the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Not a date, I swear. Just two friends with floral benefits, smelling roses and shit.”
Maybe it was the sunshine, the giddiness of being surrounded by old friends, or Blake’s boyish smile. Either way, Farrah threw caution to the wind.
What could it hurt?
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go to the garden.”
