If We Ever Meet Again (If Love Book 1)

“Oh my god. Your hair!” Farrah’s mouth dropped when she saw Olivia.

The other girl touched her locks with a self-conscious hand. “Does it look stupid?”

“No, it looks amazing!” Olivia’s once waist-length hair swung around her shoulders in a clean, simple bob. The new style enhanced her cheekbones and made her eyes pop. “I love it.”

“Thanks.” Olivia beamed. “I thought it would be more professional.”

The girls stared at each other for a moment before they closed the remaining distance between them and hugged.

“It’s so good to see you!” Olivia squealed. “It’s been forever.”

“It feels that way.” The L.A. suburbs seemed so mundane after the excitement of Shanghai. Farrah enjoyed the warm weather and catching up with her family and friends, but she missed FEA and Blake. “Have you seen Kris?”

“Not yet. You?”

“Not yet.” Farrah helped Olivia haul her luggage up the stairs. Her arms strained with the effort. FEA needs to invest in an elevator. “You think she’s ok?”

“She’s fine.” Olivia sounded unsure. “It’s Kris.”

The girls’ hall was a mess of noise and bags. The dulcet tones of the latest pop hit drifted from Flo and Janet’s room into the corridor. Charlotte tromped past, dragging a massive comforter behind her. All around, girls laughed and hugged and reminisced about their winter breaks, so excited they tripped over their words.

FEA was back.

Farrah unpacked Olivia’s toiletry bag while her friend tossed her clothing on her bed. “Where’s Sammy? I can’t wait to see him.” Farrah missed his infectious laugh and good-natured jokes. He was the closest to a brother she ever had.

“He just landed. He’ll be here soon.” Olivia’s eyes gleamed. She pointed her chin at something behind Farrah. “In the meantime, someone’s here to see you.”

Farrah spun around. She sensed who it was before her eyes confirmed her hunch.

“Hey, girls.” Blake flashed his devastating dimples. “Miss me?”

After six weeks of talking to him through a computer screen, Blake appeared larger than life. 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.

“Hey, Blake.” Olivia nudged Farrah, who remained stock-still while her heart melted faster than Italian gelato during the summer.

Olivia upgraded her nudge to a gentle shove. “It’s Blake,” she hissed.

That did the trick.

Farrah regained control of her limbs and flew across the room into his arms. Blake caught her, his grip sure and strong. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in his crisp, familiar scent. “I missed you,” she said, too overcome with emotion for banter. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” His warm breath tickled her skin. His mouth crashed against hers, their tongues tangling while her fingers dug into his arms. He tasted of hunger and desire. Of longing. Of love. He kissed her like his life depended on it.

Farrah sank into Blake’s embrace. After weeks of waiting and wanting, this was better than she imagined. She raked her fingers through his hair, desperate to—

“Ahem.”

Desperate to get—

“Ahem!”

Blake and Farrah groaned in unison. They tore themselves apart and peered at Olivia, who had unpacked in record time and was now color-coordinating her closet.

“Get a room.” Olivia draped a strapless cobalt dress over a hanger. “Your own room.”

“Are you kicking us out?” Blake demanded.

“Yes. I love you guys, but I don’t want to watch you have sex.”

“Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.”

Olivia gasped.

Farrah tried not to laugh. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not.” Blake’s grin was pure devilishness. “I was merely posing a hypothetical.”

“Out!” Olivia pointed at the door. “Farrah, dump this rascal.”

“She would never.”

“If she had to choose between you and me, who do you think she’d choose?”

Blake looked at Farrah, who shrugged. He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m out, I’m out. I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

“I always want you.” Farrah entwined her arms around his neck. She could float off the ground, she was so happy.

Blake’s eyes darkened to sapphires. “Keep going.”

“Ugh.” Olivia hung her blue jumpsuit next to her blue dress. “Disgusting.”

“Sounds like someone needs a visit from Sammy.”

This time Farrah couldn’t hold back her laughter. She dragged Blake into the hall and closed the door before Olivia hurled a shoe at his head.

“Don’t provoke her! You came this close to getting impaled by a stiletto.”

“Nah. I have good reflexes. It’s one of my many talents.”

“New year, same Blake.”

“You can’t improve perfection.” This time, Blake was the one who pulled her down the hall.

“Your room is the other way.”

“Let’s go to your room. Janice isn’t back yet, is she?”

“Nope.” Janice was never in the dorm.

Farrah opened her door and flipped on the lights. It was clear which side was hers and which was Janice’s. Janice’s half of the space was standard dorm fare—no decorations, no personal touches except for a Billie Eilish poster above her bed.

Meanwhile, Farrah treated her space as a mini interior design project, albeit one on an extreme budget. She’d replaced FEA’s scratchy white sheets with a cute gray-and-white polka dot set she found at a local market. It wasn’t her favorite color combination, but it was the best she could find. Fortunately, she’d also snagged a gold throw pillow that jazzed up the look and matched the picture frames she brought from home. The various-sized frames showcased some of her favorite memories—Farrah and her friends clutching their high school graduation diplomas; Farrah and her mom on her first day of college; Farrah standing in the middle of the first room she ever designed (a pro bono project for her neighbor’s pre-teen daughter); Farrah and her friend Maggie eating pizza in Rome and cheesing for the camera.

Blake picked up the pizza photo and chuckled. “This is a great picture.”

“It was a great day.” Spring break last year. While their friends partied it up in Cancun and Panama City, Farrah and Maggie escaped to Italy. It was Maggie’s idea—she was a classics major and obsessed with all things Greek and Italian. It turned out to be the best decision Farrah ever made.

Well, second best.

It was weird. Italy felt like a lifetime ago. Farrah kept in touch with Maggie, but the Greek life drama and campus shenanigans Maggie complained about might as well be from another world.

After a year abroad, junior year was going to be a major adjustment.

Farrah pushed the thought out of her mind. She wasn’t going to think about next year, not when she had Blake here and an entire semester of FEA left.

“Come here.” Blake sat on the edge of her bed and patted his lap.

She curled up in his embrace, soaking up the familiarity like it was a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a windowless room for weeks.

“Tell me about your break.” The deep timbre of his voice caused her to shiver with happiness.

“It was good. I ate a lot. Caught up with friends. The usual. I told you everything exciting that happened.” Skype wasn’t the same as seeing each other in person, but it was better than nothing. “Except for one thing.”

“Really?” Blake’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “What is it?”

“I’ll show you.” Farrah fished her sketchbook from her nightstand drawer at the same time. She flipped it open to her final design concept for the IDAA contest. “I finished this over winter break and submitted my portfolio last week.” Her pulse raced with nerves. “That’s it. It’s out of my hands.”

“Holy shit,” Blake breathed. He brushed his fingers over the sketch. “Farrah, this is incredible.”

After agonizing over the third design for months, Farrah woke up in the middle of the night with a crystal-clear vision of what she wanted to do. She started sketching and didn’t stop until she finished the entire thing, afraid to pause lest the inspiration leave her.

“Thanks.” Farrah struggled to contain her grin. “I’m really proud of it.”

She didn’t bother trying to be humble, because she was proud of her work. It was one of her favorite designs, bar none.

Farrah scrapped her earlier traditional hotel suite idea and shifted to island villa theme that leaned on natural colors, flowy fabrics, and open spaces: soft, billowing curtains around the bed and draped across the ceiling; an open-air living room with an organic-shaped wood coffee table and natural fiber furniture; indigenous artwork and aqua accents that picked up on the pale blues of the sea.

Interior design isn’t about how a space looks; it’s about how it makes you feel. Farrah’s villa may not exist in real life, but just looking at the sketch evoked a sense of freedom, adventure, and happiness.

Hopefully, the NIDA judges agreed.

“I wish we were there right now.” Blake brushed his fingers over the sketch. “Just the two of us on a secluded island, where nothing can touch us.”

“Maybe one day.” Farrah’s stomach fluttered. “Do you think I can win?”

“Are you kidding?” Blake brushed his lips over hers. “I’m no design expert, but I can tell this is something special. You will win. It’s not a question.”

She smiled at his confidence. “You should’ve been a cheerleader instead of a football player.”

Blake broke into laughter. “You’re right. I messed up.”

“Anyway, enough about me. How was Austin?”

“Fine.” He hesitated. “I have news too. I found an investor for the bar.”

Farrah’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s amazing! Who? How? Tell me everything!”

He chuckled at her giddiness. “Don’t get too excited. It’s my buddy Landon, so it’s not like I convinced a big-time businessman I don’t know to invest. His family is huge in the hospitality world, and he came into half his trust when he turned twenty-one. He’s trying to show his mom he knows what he’s doing, so we’re going halves on the bar.” Blake grinned. “Plus he’s a great friend.”

“That’s still incredible.” Farrah couldn’t contain her excitement. She witnessed firsthand how hard Blake worked these past few months. She’d read his business plan. She saw the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the bar. His venture was going to be a success. She was sure of it. “I’m so proud of you. Your family must be too.”

“I guess. My sister is. My mom’s coming around. My dad is skeptical. He thinks the only thing I’m good at is football.” Despite his casual tone, Farrah detected the hurt beneath his words.

Anger flashed through her. She’d never met Joe Ryan, but she was going to give that man a piece of her mind when she saw him. “Fuck your dad. He’s trying to sabotage your dreams before you even get them off the ground, and I am. Not. Here. For. It.”

Blake’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

“I’m serious!” She pounded the mattress with her fist. “Don’t let him do that to you.”

“I don’t want to complain too much.” Blake rubbed his thumb over her locket. “I know I’m lucky my dad is still around.”

Her anger melted away, replaced by an ache in her heart. God, she loved this boy. “If you’re worried about me, don’t be. My relationship with my father was different. I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to mend fences with your dad; he is still your dad. But do not let him discourage you. You’re capable of great things, Blake Ryan. Don’t forget that.”

Blake’s eyes darkened with emotion. “I don’t deserve you. You know that?” He pulled her in tight and rested his cheek on top of her head.

Farrah closed her eyes, soaking in the warm strength of his embrace. “I know.”

“I love you.” There was a strange undercurrent in his voice, a shakiness that was not like Blake.

Old Farrah would’ve latched onto that minute detail and overanalyzed the heck out of it, but New Farrah convinced herself it was her imagination.

FEA was in session again, the group was reunited, and she and Blake were back together. It was going to be an amazing semester, and she wasn’t going to waste it worrying about demons that didn’t exist.

“I love you too.”

Their lips met in a tender promise. 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.