If We Ever Meet Again (If Love 1)
The other three stared at her.
“Kidding! I would never elope. I already have my wedding Pinterest board.” Olivia laughed. “God, me eloping. Can you imagine?”
“No,” Kris said. “I can’t.”
Weddings were the Olympics of planning, organization, and seating charts. It was basically Olivia’s wet dream.
“So, ladies? Are we in?” Courtney held out her hand.
“Despite my foresight when it comes to Pinterest boards, I don’t plan on getting married until I’m in my thirties with a senior executive position on Wall Street and a weekend cottage in the Hamptons,” Olivia warned. “But I’m in.” She placed her hand atop Courtney’s.
Farrah followed suit. “Me too.” She was so not ready to think about marriage, although she and Blake would make the cutest babies. One day. She loved the idea of the pact, though. It’d keep their Shanghai legacy alive.
“Kris?” Courtney prompted.
The Filipina shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.” She put her hand on top of Farrah’s, completing the pact.
“Repeat after me: I swear I’ll invite you all to my wedding, no matter what.”
“Seriously?”
“Just do it, Kris.”
“I swear I’ll invite you all to my wedding, no matter what,” they recited dutifully.
“That’s it. The pact is unbreakable.” Courtney grinned. “You’re all stuck with me at your weddings, bitches.”
A wicked glint entered Kris’s eyes. “Anyone wanna bet on who gets married first and when?”
“Not against you,” Farrah laughed. “Too rich for my blood.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll reunite before the first wedding,” Olivia said. “Maybe even before we graduate!”
“Duh,” Courtney said with the confidence of someone who’s seen the future. “Of course we will.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Thanks for your help, man.” Blake fist-bumped Sammy. “Appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Sammy unwrapped his scarf. The heat in the dorm was on full blast, turning the lobby into a scorching desert compared to the chill outdoors. “I’m sure Farrah will love it.”
“Yeah.” Blake peeked inside his shopping bag to double-check the gift was still there. It’d taken forever to figure out what to buy Farrah for her birthday and longer to track it down. If it weren’t for Sammy, he’d be stuck deciding between cliché jewelry options. “I hope so.”
“I’m never wrong.”
It was a wildly un-Sammy-like thing to say.
The boys took the stairs two at a time until they reached the second-floor landing. “Olivia’s rubbing off on you.”
“There’s a ninety-nine percent chance you’re right.”
“Don’t tell her what I got Farrah,” Blake warned.
Sammy clutched his heart. “I can’t believe you think I’d spill the beans. I—”
“You were going to tell her, weren’t you?”
“Well, she already knows.”