If We Ever Meet Again (If Love Book 1)

“…Happy birthday, dear Farrah, happy birthday to you!”

Farrah closed her eyes and blew out the candles on her cake while her friends clapped and cheered. Courtney’s camera flash lit up the room, so bright Farrah saw it behind her lids.

Twenty years old. She was officially no longer a teenager.

Farrah had been dreading this day for years, but twenty didn’t feel so different. She had the same dreams and worries, the same tastes in food and music and clothing. The world didn’t come crashing down.

In fact, she was excited. She had a whole new decade to live and explore, and she was starting it off in the best way possible: surrounded by people she loved in one of the greatest cities in the world.

Twenty could be worse.

“What’d ya wish for?” Luke asked.

“Nice try.” Farrah sliced into the cake, a massive chocolate affair with cream cheese frosting courtesy of Sammy. Her mouth watered at the sight. Knowing Sammy, it’d be delicious. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“That’s a myth,” Luke scoffed. “I tell people my wishes all the time. For example, I wish you’d cut that cake faster.”

“Don’t be rude.” Olivia loaded the slices onto paper plates and passed them around. She saved Luke for last, which earned her a disgruntled glare.

“Maybe what you wished for is in one of those bags.” Courtney nodded at the pile of presents on the table. She perched on the arm of the student lounge couch, camera in hand and at the ready. “There’s only one way to find out!”

“Subtle.” Nardo laughed. “Farrah, Courtney will combust if you don’t open your presents soon.”

He was acting like a normal human being. It freaked her out.

Leo leaned against the wall on the other side of the room with a smirk. He was on speaking terms with Courtney again, thank god. They weren’t dating—that relationship was over for good—but at least things were back to normal with the group. Farrah wouldn’t have been able to take another second of tiptoeing around Courtney and Leo, trying to avoid saying the other’s name.

“I love presents, even when they’re not for me.” Courtney shoved a medium rectangular box into Farrah’s hands. “Open mine first. Pleeeease.”

“Ok, ok.” Grinning, Farrah unwrapped the present and opened the box to reveal two framed prints. One was an architectural sketch of Shanghai, the other a photo of the group at the Bund last semester. They were on a post-midterms high and had spent the night eating, drinking, and laughing their way through the city. It must’ve been four, five in the morning by the time they circled back to the Bund. By then, the lights were off and the city quiet. Farrah didn’t remember what they did there, but she remembered how she felt—like she’d never been more in love, with a city or with the people around her.

Like anything was possible.

Like the moment would last forever.

In a sense, it did.

Farrah skimmed her fingers over the frame. There she was with her friends, their grins immortalized for posterity.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Farrah hugged Courtney, breathing in her friend’s familiar Tommy Girl perfume. “Thank you.”

“Any time, babe.” Courtney squeezed her tight.

Farrah pulled herself together and finished unwrapping the rest of her presents, which included a beautiful monogrammed sketchbook from Olivia, delicate gold-and-aquamarine earrings from Kris, a fun tote from Sammy, and a silk scarf from Leo. She saved Blake’s for last.

Farrah shook the large box. It rattled in response.

“Ooh. What’s this?” Jewelry didn’t make that noise. Maybe a book? No, there were definitely multiple objects in there.

“You’ll see.” Blake’s dimples flashed. The sight eased the tension in Farrah’s shoulders. He’d been acting off these past few weeks—more so than at the beginning of the semester—but he seemed in a better mood tonight.

Stop overthinking. He’s stressed about the bar. That’s it.

It was her twentieth birthday. Farrah wasn’t going to sabotage her own celebration with her doubts.

“Open it,” Blake encouraged. His eyes twinkled with anticipation.

Yep. She was overthinking. Things were fine.

Farrah ripped open the wrapping paper, determined to put those pesky voices in her head to bed once and for all. She gasped when she saw what lay beneath the multicolored foil. “Oh my god, where did you find this?!”

“It took a while,” Blake admitted. “Sammy helped me track it down to a little store in the art district. I think it’s the only place in the city that sells it.”

“Are those…” Kris squinted at the box. “Markers?”

“They’re not just markers. They’re limited-edition Pantone dual-ended markers in 150 colors, created in collaboration with Kelly Burke, aka the best interior designer ever. They’re only on sale for a month.” Farah hugged the box to her chest. “They’re beautiful!”

She couldn’t believe it. She’d wanted the markers since Kelly Burke announced the collaboration last year, and now here they were, in her arms. Imagine all the things she could do with them!

Farrah’s mind buzzed with ideas. She was tempted to leave the party right now and start experimenting.

Kris wrinkled her nose. “To each their own.”

“Those markers are expensive.” Leo eyed Blake. “At least a few hundred bucks.”

“Really?” Kris reexamined the set with more respect. “Huh.”

In her giddiness, Farrah had forgotten why she didn’t buy the set for herself—the markers were expensive. Too expensive for her to justify their cost, no matter how much she wanted them.

“It was worth it,” Blake said before she could open her mouth. “As long as you like them.”

“I adore them.” Farrah set the markers on the table and planted a lingering kiss on his lips. “Thank you, babe.”

“You’re welcome.” He skimmed the back of his hand down her cheek. “Happy birthday.”

Farrah closed her eyes, reveling in his touch.

Twenty was freakin’ awesome.

She stepped away from Blake to hug Sammy. “Thank you for helping. And for the cake.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out how Blake found out about the markers. The only person Farrah told was Olivia, who must’ve told Sammy, who told Blake.

Still, Farrah was touched Blake and Sammy went to so much trouble to find her present. Finding such a niche product in Shanghai wasn’t easy. She couldn’t believe they sold the markers here at all.

“It was nothing. Blake did most of the legwork. I merely translated.” Sammy kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday.”

“Mmhmm. Thank you anyway.” Farrah winked at Olivia. “You’ve got a good one.”

“Right back atcha.”

The girls exchanged knowing glances.

“I’m going to bring this—” Farrah gestured at the pile of presents. “—up to my room. You guys go ahead. I’ll meet you at 808.”

“I’ll help you.” Blake started gathering the crumpled wrapping paper.

“Sure you will.” Luke smirked.

Farrah’s cheeks reddened. She ignored her friends’ suggestive hoots as she swept the gifts up from the table. “C’mon, Blake. Let’s go. Maybe when we return, they’ll have matured,” she said pointedly.

“Maturity is overrated.” The opening beats of Jeremih’s “Birthday Sex” blasted from Courtney’s iPhone. “Have fun,” she sang. She dragged the last word out to multiple syllables.

Blake chuckled. Farrah’s flush deepened. “I hate you guys.”

“Love you too.” Olivia blew her a kiss. “Happy birthday, babe.”

Farrah softened. “Thanks. For the presents and cake and…everything. You guys are the best, even if you act like thirteen-year-olds.” She tried to laugh but got choked up again.

“Oh, no. No crying on your birthday. Go put your presents away and have sex.” Courtney waved her off. “You deserve it.”

“Let’s be honest, they’re not making it to 808,” Farrah heard Kris say.

Farrah’s and Blake’s shoes echoed in the stairwell as they made their way to the third floor. The rest of FEA was at 808, but Farrah had wanted to have her cake and gift unwrapping in the dorm. It was easier than going out, hauling the presents back to her room, and going out again.

To her surprise, she opened the door to an empty room. Farrah invited Janice to the pre-birthday celebration, but Janice declined, saying she had work to do. She’d expected to find Janice on her laptop, but her roommate was nowhere in sight.

Farrah wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. It was possible Janice lied about having work to get out of attending her birthday, which sucked. At the same time…

“Looks like we have your room to ourselves. A birthday present from the universe, perhaps?” Blake placed her presents on her desk and winked. Even in a simple white shirt and jeans, he caused her heart to flutter.

“If it is…” Farrah added her haul to the pile and walked over to Blake. She hooked her fingers through his belt loops. “Far be it from me to refuse.”

Their lips met in a long, deep kiss that drove every other thought out of her mind. She parted her lips and he swept his tongue inside, increasing the heat until she smoldered with need.

Blake lifted her up. Farrah expected him to carry them to her bed. Instead, he slammed her against the wall, eliciting a gasp of surprise and anticipation from her. He kept one hand on her waist while he used the other to unclasp her dress and bra. His movements were jerky, almost desperate as he eased the material down her body.

Her nipples hardened in the cool air. Blake brushed an open palm over them and she shuddered, an all-too-familiar ache blossoming between her legs. He played with her breasts for a while longer, tugging and twisting so expertly he might as well be in her head. Farrah had always assumed this level of sexual connection and expertise was unrealistic, concocted by romance movies and novels to give the female population hope, when in fact a majority of guys were like the ones Farrah encountered in the past—quick, clumsy, awkward.

Not Blake. He knew exactly what to do, when to do it. By the time he lowered his head to suck on her sensitized nubs, Farrah was ready to fall apart. Her body was a live wire of sensations, crackling and scorching hot. Every nerve ending was sensitive to the touch.

Blake slipped a finger between her slick folds and found that spot, and she did fall apart. Farrah exploded with pleasure so intense she saw stars. It went on and on, and just as she came down from the high, Blake tossed her on the bed. She heard the rustle of a condom being unwrapped. A second later, he was inside her, filling her to bursting.

Farrah clutched his shoulders and cried out. The heat surged until the flames consumed her once more. She arced up, pressing her chest against Blake’s. His hand slipped down between their bodies. His fingertips brushed her clit as he pounded into her, taking her higher and higher to a place where she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The sensations ran wild through her system, so intense and all-encompassing she nearly wept. Farrah craved release yet never wanted this to end. All she could do was ride the wave of pleasure until her body detonated, and her cries of ecstasy mingled with Blake’s as they crashed back to earth together.

After twenty years, she’d found the guy who could take her to heaven and back.

Farrah collapsed on the bed and tried to catch her breath. “Best. Birthday. Present. Ever,” she wheezed.

Blake chuckled. He rolled onto his side and smoothed her hair from her face. “Better than the markers?”

“It’s close. I really like the markers.” Farrah ran her hand up and down his arm. Kris’d been right. They weren’t making it to 808. She had zero desire to get dressed and sweat her ass off in a crowded club. She’d much rather stay here with Blake in their own little world. “But I like you more.”

She expected him to reply with a smartass remark. When he didn’t, she looked up to find him gazing at her with such love it hurt her heart. Not because of the love, but because of what hid behind it—a sadness that reawakened her earlier sense of foreboding.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Blake played with the ends of her hair. “How does twenty feel?”

“It’s fine, and don’t change the subject. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.” Farrah propped herself up on her elbow so that they were at eye level. “Is it your dad?”

“No. I’m stressed about the bar, is all. There’s so much left to do.”

He’d said that the last time she brought up his strange behavior. She believed him then. She wasn’t sure she believed him now.

“Let’s talk about something else. I don’t want to be a downer on your birthday.”

“You can talk to me about anything anytime. You know that.”

There it was—that melancholy that shouldn’t have been there. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

Farrah smiled even as her heart clenched with unease. “You might have mentioned it once or twice, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well, I do. I love you so, so much.” Blake cupped her cheek. She detected a slight shake in his hand. “Never forget that.”

“I won’t.” She leaned in for a kiss.

“Farrah.” The fierceness in his voice startled her. “I mean it. No matter what happens, never forget how much I love you.” Blake’s eyes darkened with emotion. “I am totally, completely, one hundred percent in love with you. I always will be.”

A lump formed in Farrah’s throat. “I know,” she said softly. “I’m totally, completely, one hundred percent in love with you too.” She examined his face, searching for answers to a question she didn’t know. “Are you sure everything’s ok? Besides the stress over the bar.”

Blake laced his fingers through hers with his free hand and squeezed like he was holding on for dear life. “We don’t have a lot of time left.”

No, they didn’t. They had eight weeks.

Eight weeks, fifty-four days, and one thousand ninety-six hours before they had to reenter reality.

But they didn’t have to do it now.

“We have plenty.” Farrah returned his squeeze. “We have tonight.”

Blake and Farrah kissed again, a deep, searching, passionate kiss that gave her everything her romantic side wanted.

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.