Ok. She could do this. She was asking Blake to dance, not to marry her.
Farrah forced herself to walk to the bar. Her stomach cramped harder with every step.
Luke noticed her first. “Sup?”
“Sup. I mean, hi.” Nice.
Blake’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “I see you’re here to claim your drink.”
“What? Oh, my drink!” Right. The post-jump drink he’d promised her. “That’s why I’m here,” Farrah said, relieved to have an excuse.
“How does a double tequila shot sound?”
It sounded terrible, but she needed liquid courage. “Perfect.”
As Blake placed the order, Farrah worked on taming her nerves. She jumped off a fucking tower tonight, for Pete’s sake. She shouldn’t be this nervous over a simple dance.
“I need to pee before I drink more tequila,” Luke announced.
Farrah eyed the yellowish-brown liquid in her shot glass and wrinkled her nose.
“Uh, thanks for letting us know.” Blake clapped Luke on the shoulder. “Go do your thing, man.”
“Peace.” Luke threw up the peace sign and ambled off. He was so tall he towered over everyone else in the club.
“He’s so gone,” Farrah said.
“Oh yeah, he’s done. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t puke all over our bathroom tonight.” Blake sprinkled salt on the skin between his thumb and forefinger and handed the shaker to her.
She did the same.
“To conquering fears.”
“To conquering fears.” Farrah clinked her glass against Blake’s and downed the tequila. She grimaced and bit into her lime wedge, letting the sour fruit balance the flavor of the alcohol burning its way down her throat.
God, tequila shots were gross. On the bright side, it didn’t take long for her buzz to return and smooth her frayed nerves.
This was it. Time to ask him. “Who’s the girl?”
Wait. That wasn’t the right question.
Blake tilted his head. “What girl?”
“The girl I saw coming out of your room the night we went to Moller Villa.” Farrah had avoided asking or thinking about Mystery Girl since that night, but now she couldn’t stop thinking about her. It didn’t take a genius to realize what Blake and Mystery Girl had been up to.
Was it a onetime thing, or was he still seeing her?
Farrah fought the urge to dry heave. Yep, the post-jump high was 100% gone.
Discomfort filled Blake’s face. “She’s a girl I was seeing.”
“Seeing,” meaning more than once.
“Was,” as in past tense.
“Oh.” Farrah fiddled with her empty glass. “What’s her name?”
“Mina.”