“And I have work due tomorrow morning.” Olivia yawned.
“But it’s Saturday tomorrow,” Courtney protested.
“The world of finance never rests.”
Courtney pouted. “Farrah?”
“Um.” As much as Farrah loved her friend, the thought of attending a wild party tonight was as appealing as a root canal without Novocain. She couldn’t think of a good excuse, so she went with the truth. “I’m not feeling up to it tonight. Sorry.”
“Boo.” Courtney’s shoulders slumped before she perked up again. “Isn’t Sammy in town? He’ll go with me.”
Olivia snorted, a sign of derisiveness that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Don’t tell me you guys still aren’t speaking to each other,” Kris said. “How can you stay mad at him? It’s Sammy!”
“So?”
“So, he’s the most likable guy on the planet.”
“You’re not the one who dated him,” Olivia grumbled. “You don’t know what he said to me.”
Farrah, Courtney, and Kris exchanged glances.
“Do you know?” Courtney mouthed at Farrah, who’d been in New York the same summer Olivia and Sammy broke up. The summer after FEA.
Farrah shook her head. She’d been distracted that summer by her internship and recent breakup with Blake, but from what she saw, things had been going swell between Sammy and Olivia until the tail end of August. Stony glares and cold rebuffs cut off Farrah’s attempts to find out what happened.
After a while, she’d stopped trying.
“Also, Sammy isn’t as perfect as you think it is. He won’t even tell Farrah the truth about Blake.” Olivia gulped her wine in a way wine was not meant to be gulped.
Farrah was so startled by the sight of Olivia breaking wine etiquette she didn’t notice Courtney’s and Kris’s gazes focusing on her until their heat pierced her skin.
“What’s the truth about Blake?” Courtney’s eyes grew to the size of silver dollars at the prospect of juicy gossip.
Farrah had told Kris and Courtney about Blake’s interior design project, but she hadn’t mentioned Sammy’s cryptic advice at brunch.
“I don’t know.” Farrah touched the pendant resting at the base of her throat. “Like Liv said, Sammy didn’t tell me.”
“He told her to ask Blake about her necklace the next time she saw him,” Olivia clarified. “Big help that is.”
Kris arched one sleek, well-groomed brow. “Did you? Ask Blake the next time you saw him?”
Not exactly.
Farrah thanked God for dim lighting and Asian glow—her cheeks were already flushed from chardonnay—because she couldn’t stop the blanket of heat creeping its way from the top of her head all the way to her toes. Every time she thought about what happened in Blake’s bathroom last week, her womb clenched, and wetness pooled between her thighs.
She’d never seen Blake like that. There were times he’d been rough in Shanghai, but the other night? He’d been an animal. Feral. Merciless.
And she’d loved every second.
Whether it was Blake or the pent-up frustration from a year without sex—or, most likely, a combination of both—Farrah had, oh, the top five orgasms of her life in one night.
It worked then. You fucked me out of your system.
“Farrah?” Kris prompted.
Did she get him out of her system? She wasn’t so sure.