“You’ve known me for four months, and you want fast food.” Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve failed you as a friend.”
Farrah laughed. “It’s not that serious. I’m craving a McFlurry, that’s all.”
Olivia grimaced. “I’m in a good mood, so I’m not going to say anything.”
“Thank you, CB Lippmann,” Farrah quipped.
Olivia received the email that morning: she was officially a summer intern for the prestigious investment firm. Farrah heard her excited scream all the way down the hall. Olivia had been floating on air since, at least until Farrah dragged her, Sammy, and Blake into McDonald’s.
The place was packed, so the guys were saving them seats while they waited in line.
Farrah examined the menu. There were staples like the Big Mac and McChicken, but there were also items tailored for a Chinese audience, including taro pies, bubble milk tea, and a Sichuan spicy chicken burger.
The taro pies looked tempting, but she ordered a McFlurry like she’d intended instead, plus two burgers and fries for Blake and Sammy (each).
“You sure you don’t want anything, Liv?” Farrah teased.
“Ugh. No, thanks. Don’t ask me again.” A sly gleam entered Olivia’s eyes. “Let’s talk about a more savory topic. Have you and Blake done the deed yet?”
Farrah blushed. “Define ‘deed.’”
“Don’t be coy. Have you had sex yet?”
“Define ‘sex.’”
“Farrah Lin!”
Farrah looked around. Sammy and Blake sat at a table in the back corner. There was no way they could hear her.
Blake caught her eye and winked.
She smiled as her heart did a happy skip.
“We’ve made it to second,” she said. “No third or home base yet.”
“Why not? He looks like he’s good at bat.” Olivia grinned. “Sammy would be proud of my baseball analogy.”
“Maybe not when you’re using it to discuss another guy’s sex skills. Anyway, to answer your question, Blake wants to take things slow.”
Olivia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
A pinprick of insecurity dampened Farrah’s mood. On the one hand, it was sweet that Blake didn’t want to rush things. On the other, didn’t college guys want to have sex like, all the time? Was it normal that he didn’t seem to have a problem saying no every time sex came up?
She was the virgin. She should be the one saying no.
The server called their order number. They picked up their food and walked to their table.
“Don’t overthink it,” Olivia said when she saw the expression on Farrah’s face. “He knows you’ve never done it before, so he probably doesn’t want to rush you before you’re ready.”
“I am ready.” Farrah knew she was whining, but she didn’t care. Seriously, how hard was it to give away your virginity these days?
Olivia giggled. “Hashtag Farrah problems.”
“Shh! Keep your voice down, they can hear.”
“What’s so funny?” Sammy asked. The tray didn’t hit the table before he reached for a fry.
“Nothing,” Olivia and Farrah chorused.
“Sammy, there are some things guys are better off not knowing,” Blake said.
“You’re right, you’re right. By the way,” Sammy said through the mouthful of burger. “There’s something I have to tell you guys.”
“Including me?” Olivia pointed to herself.
“Yeah.” He chewed and swallowed. “I’m, uh, going to be an intern at NASA this summer.”
There was a beat of silence before a loud squeal caused every head in the restaurant to swivel in their direction.
“We’re going to be in New York together?!” Olivia threw her arms around Sammy’s neck. She seemed thrilled for someone who always said study abroad relationships don’t last after the program ends.
Sammy grinned. “Yep.”
“Congrats!” Farrah reached across the table to hug her friend. “You rocket scientist, you.”
“Hardly. I’ll be working on mathematical models for a climate change project. Not exactly Neil Armstrong stuff.”
“Whatever. Anyone who works at NASA is a rocket scientist in my eyes.” Farrah wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You’re my mom’s dream. If I majored in math and got a NASA internship, she’d faint from happiness.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t,” Sammy joked.
“Congrats, man.” Blake clapped Sammy on the shoulder. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I can’t wait to start my New York spreadsheet.” Olivia whipped out her phone. “There are so many amazing restaurants we have to try. Let’s start in the West Village and work our way to the other neighborhoods.”
Farrah hid a grin. Some things never changed.
When they returned to the dorm, Olivia and Sammy split to plan their summer in New York while Farrah lingered in the hall outside Blake’s room. His uncharacteristic moodiness stopped her from breezing inside like normal.
“What’s wrong?” She leaned against the doorway and watched Blake hang his jacket in the closet with more care than usual.
“Nothing.”
“You’re quiet.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“You always have something to say, even when no one wants you to say anything.”
Not a hint of a smile. It wasn’t Farrah’s best joke, but Blake usually indulged her with at least a chuckle.
She walked inside and placed her hands on Blake’s shoulders, forcing him to look at her. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”
“I know.” Blake blew out a breath. “It’s going to sound stupid.”
“Try me.”
“Everyone has amazing summer plans. Sammy with NASA, Olivia with CB, you with your design internship—”
“I haven’t submitted my application yet,” Farrah reminded him. She needed to put the finishing touches on her final design. She didn’t love it, but it was good enough. At this point, Farrah was just glad she had something on paper, especially since the deadline was coming up fast.
“You will, and you’ll get it.” Blake’s matter-of-fact confidence eased her nerves somewhat.
“Thanks. You’ll have an amazing summer too.” She rubbed his arm. “Don’t worry.”
“Doing what? At least you guys have something concrete lined up.” Blake broke away and sat on his bed. “All I have is a crazy dream to start a bar.”
“It’s not crazy.” Farrah’s fierce tone surprised herself. “You know what else started as a crazy dream? Apple. Microsoft. Every small business and company in the world. You won’t know whether something is achievable unless you try.”
“There’s so much to think about,” Blake argued. “The leasing, the marketing, the liquor licenses, the food. I don’t have the capital to rent a commercial space, much less hire staff. The expenses are too big for my parents to help with, even if they want to help, which isn’t a guarantee.” He noticed her smile. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re thinking like a business owner already.”
“Thanks, but that doesn’t solve my problem.”
She sat next to him. “Let me ask you this. Is a sports bar what you really want?”
Blake’s face softened. “It is. I don’t want to play sports for a living, but I love the community aspect of it. It brings people together. Well, unless you’re rooting for rival teams. You can watch games at home, but there’s nothing like being surrounded by people as excited as you are about every goal, every point scored. It’s hype.”
Farrah laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.” The only sport she watched was the gymnastics portion of the Olympics every four years. “If this is what you really want, go for it. It may not be as ‘concrete’ as an internship at an established firm, but this is your dream. So many people have started their own businesses, and I guarantee you’re just as capable.”
“You’re right. But I still need to find the money.” Blake shook his head. “Unless I win the lottery, I won’t have enough for rent, much less everything else.”
“There are loans and investors. You’ll figure it out. You’re Blake Ryan.”
“I’m Blake Ryan, football star. Not Blake Ryan, businessman.” His eyes flickered with vulnerability.
Farrah’s heart ached. The world saw Blake the football player. Cocky, athletic, good-looking. The one every girl wanted and every guy wanted to be.
That was how she’d once seen him, too.
While those things may be a part of him, he’d opened up enough for her to see past the winks and irreverent quips to the person deep inside—the boy whose life was defined by something someone else chose for him, who’d been told over and over again his worth was based on his skills with a ball, and who wanted to be loved as a person instead of a commodity.
Tears stung her eyes. “You will be,” Farrah said fiercely. “You’re Blake Ryan, anything you want to be. Businessman. President. CEO of fucking space. If Elon Musk can do it, so can you.”
He laughed softly. “I’m not Elon Musk, either.”
“No.” Farrah pressed her forehead against his. “You’re better. You’re you.”
