Then again, he’d done something far worse, so he wasn’t one to talk.
“More like Leo isn’t speaking to her. I think he needs space. Not that I blame him.” Farrah snuggled closer to Blake. “If someone cheated on me, I’d never speak to them again.”
His heart stopped, then raced double time. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a huge violation of trust. If someone cheats once, they’ll cheat again.”
Blake had the sudden urge to throw up. Maybe ice skating wasn’t the best idea right now. He needed to sit down and breathe. “That’s not always true.”
“It is 99% of the time.” Farrah lifted her head to look at him. “I mean, in Court’s case, it was only a kiss. Which isn’t great, but at least she didn’t sleep with Nardo. That would be unforgivable.”
“Yeah. Unforgivable,” Blake choked out.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up such a depressing topic, especially on Valentine’s Day.” Farrah laced their fingers together. “Let’s focus on something else. Like what we’re going to do when we get back to the dorm.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I have a long to-do list. Pun intended.”
Blake forced a smile as his stomach heaved. All traces of arousal had disappeared, replaced by panic.
Forget telling Farrah about what happened with Cleo over New Year’s.
She couldn’t find out.
Ever.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Tell me about this Blake.” Farrah’s mom appraised her daughter with a hawk’s eye. “Who is he? Where is he from? What is he studying? How does he treat you?”
“Mom, stop.” Farrah crossed her legs and adjusted her laptop to minimize the screen glare. “We’re not playing Twenty Questions.”
“Those are valid questions. I’ve never heard you sound as giddy as when you’re talking about this boy,” Cheryl teased. “I’m your mother. You should tell me these things.”
“You’d like him.” Farrah grinned at the thought of Blake meeting her mother. He was tough, but Cheryl would destroy him in a second if he stepped over the line. “He’s from Austin. He’s a senior at Southeastern Texas. He used to be the quarterback of their football team.”
“Used to be?”
“He—” Farrah hesitated. “He decided he doesn’t want a career in football.”
“He’s right. Sports are dangerous. One wrong hit and you’re out. At least he has common sense.” Cheryl nodded in approval. “So what does he want to do?”
“He’s studying business.”
“What kind of business? Is he planning on getting an MBA? Did he get into any MBA programs? Is he going to Wharton?” Cheryl lit up. “That’s a great program. Graduate from there, and you’re set for life.”
Farrah was used to her mom’s endless questions about her love life, but they never made her nervous—until now. “He’s opening his own business.”
“What kind of business?”
/> “Er, a restaurant.” Her mom wouldn’t take kindly to “sports bar.” She considered them “low-class” establishments.
“What kind of restaurant?”
“Mom!”
“You can’t blame me for being curious. I want to know about the boy my daughter is so infatuated with. What’s his GPA?”
Farrah groaned. “How am I supposed to know his GPA?”