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zone or do something that makes your heart goddamn race. One’s safe. The other is scary as hell. You know where the safe path takes you—but it only takes you that far. The scary path? No one knows. It could be awful. Or it could be the best decision you’ll ever make.”
Farrah didn’t die. On the contrary, she’d never felt more alive.
He never knew what to say, and tears made him more uncomfortable than a nun who stumbled into an orgy.
Blake was in love with Farrah. He was in so deep, he didn’t have a devil’s chance of getting out, and what’s more, he didn’t want to. Blake closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. I am so fucked.
“I think—” Blake’s voice turned rough. “You’re a smart-ass who’s too stubborn for your own good. I think you drive me crazier than any person ought to. And I think I might die if I can’t be with you.”
There was only one way to find out. Farrah grabbed Blake Ryan’s face and kissed him.
Farrah had always equated the stars with love, which seemed as nebulous and out of reach as the diamonds in the sky. But as she stood there next to Blake, beneath the infinite skies of a foreign land, the stars felt a little closer.
One moment can change your life. It can happen anywhere, anytime, and it usually happens when you least expect it.
Yep, he was a goner, and he didn’t care.
get so swept up in her depths, no one could find him. It’d be just the two of them, lost in infinity.
“Did you see the way she looked at me? You’d think I was having an orgy on the riverfront instead of kissing my girlfriend.” The word slipped out without thinking. Farrah’s eyebrows rose. “Girlfriend?” Fuck.
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” “I am not flustered.” Blake narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Were you putting me on this entire time?” Farrah giggled. “You should see your face. You’re so red.”
“Oh, come on.” Farrah rested her forehead on his. “I think it’s cute.” Blake was horrified. “Teddy bears are cute. Puppies are cute. Guys don’t want to be cute. It’s the sexual equivalent of Siberia.”
“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.
No one had ever looked at him like that before.
He’d been falling in love with her, bit by bit, since the moment they met. It wasn’t scary. It was inevitable.
Farrah’s heart slammed against her rib cage. This was it. Bye-bye, nineteen years of virginity.
He ran his fingers through her hair and stared at her with so much love, it made Farrah’s heart ache. No one had ever looked at her like that before. It scared the shit out of her, but the thought of losing him scared her more. Farrah snuggled closer to him, comforted by the solid feel of his body against hers.
“In French, they use the term la petite mort, ‘the little death,’ as a euphemism for orgasm, so you’re technically correct.”
“Look on the bright side.” Blake kissed her forehead. “You’ll have me, Blake Ryan, at your full disposal. I’m basically your willing sex slave. No other girl can say that.”
didn’t expect it or even want it, but it happened. If I’m being honest, it happened a while ago, and I’m only now getting the courage to tell you. You said once every second counts, and I don’t want another second to go by without you knowing that I am totally, completely, one hundred percent in love with you.”
“When I met you, I told myself I wasn’t going to fall for you.” Jesus. Her words cut like a surgical knife through Blake’s heart.
“Be glad I love you so much. Jokes that bad should be banned.” Farrah stuck out her tongue. “I’m only letting that slide because it’s your birthday.”
His lean, muscular body filled the doorframe. His pale blue shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and matched the color of his eyes—the same eyes that drank Farrah in like a man dying of thirst in the desert.
Blake felt the same, smelled the same, and tasted the same—like rich, dark chocolate. Like sin and desire. Like the stars and dreams.
He tasted like Blake. Her Blake.
That was the one thing she’d never tolerate in a relationship—cheating. It wasn’t about the physical act. It was about the trust. Once broken, it was hard, if not impossible, to mend.
Forget telling Farrah about what happened with Cleo over New Year’s. She couldn’t find out. Ever.
Farrah lost herself in the embrace, letting it sweep aside her worries and the little voice inside telling her that this kiss, loving and tender though it may be, was also the type of kiss you gave someone right before you said goodbye.
Farrah inhaled sharply. True or not, those two words sliced through her like a knife. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do. Not. Fucking. Cry.
“You won. Blake Ryan, the champion. Your father was right. You shouldn’t have quit. No one plays the game better than you.”
Blake Ryan. Her first love. Her first lover. Her first heartbreak.
Pain rushed in to fill the void. Incredible, soul-crushing pain, the kind that forced her to double over it hurt so much. The dam she’d erected to keep her tears at bay collapsed, sending streams of liquid grief down her cheeks. That was it. Farrah curled up into a ball on the floor. She hugged her knees to her chest and sobbed—huge, wracking sobs that shook her body but made nary a noise. Her stomach ached. Her sides ached. Her heart ached so much she was sure she was dying.
“Whatever happens, we can get through it together.” “I love you.”
“Never forget how much I love you.”
A sad smile crossed Sammy’s face. If only Farrah knew how much Blake still loved her.
Did Shanghai change them, or was it a mere footnote in the stories of their lives?
Inexplicably, her heart ached for these strangers. She would never know their stories and secrets, but she knew them. She was, after all, walking in their footsteps.
All Blake could do was watch her leave. There was nothing left to say except the three words he could never say to her again. I love you.
In that way, the lyrics couldn’t have been more fitting, though she knew the song was about orgasms. That was fitting too. Farrah’s mouth tilted up at her own inside joke.
How lucky was she to have spent a year in Shanghai, to have strangers turn into family, and to have loved so deeply, it left scars on her heart?
“I know, baby,” he whispered. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “I won’t. You’ll always have a piece of me with you.”
A tear slipped down his cheek, and Blake had to hold his breath so his sob didn’t disturb the silence. He eased into the bed next to Farrah and held her in his arms. He kept his touch light, lest he wake her. “Ok. I’ll stay with you.” Another tear escaped and landed on her forehead. Blake kissed it away. “I love you, Farrah,” he whispered. Farrah heaved another, more contented sigh. “Thanks for staying.” She buried her face in his chest, muffling her words. “I love you, Blake.”
Blake couldn’t stay with Farrah the entire night. It was too risky. But he stayed until her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and she dozed off with a small smile on her face, the way she always did when they were together.
“Do they actually work for you?” “Excuse me?” “Your cheesy pickup lines. Do they actually work for you?” “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me about your dad.” “I think you drive me crazier than any person ought to. And I think I might die if I can’t be with you.” “You will never lose me. I will always love you. Always.”
