Chapter Seven #3
Miriam was probably the last person on Earth she’d tell the real reason for what took her so long, so instead, she trudged along after her, meeting up with the other bridesmaids on the dance floor and distributing the arches just in time for the drum roll.
And then Judah Klein—Judah freaking Klein—picked up the mic.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Reuben and Aleah Feingold!”
The music burst into the familiar strains of “Od Yishamah” as the newly married pair ran out onto the floor and under the arches before splitting into their respective gendered sections while everyone whooped along.
Arielle dutifully collected the arches from the other bridesmaids and put them back in the bag, the sound of Judah’s beautiful voice ringing in her head like a pounding headache.
She headed back to the inner circle, yanking Hannah along the way to join the rest of the family dancing around Aleah and Aunt Steph.
The songs blended one into another as each of the bridesmaids and family members took their turns, Ari going dizzy as she, Dana, and Hannah dashed in a circle with the bride, their platform sneakers slapping on the wooden dance floor.
When Aleah moved on to the second tier, Ari grabbed a glass of water for her cousin and then slipped back out, sneaking another look at Judah and the band as she headed to the bar for her own drink.
He was so annoyingly … confident, his long fingers elegantly wrapped around the microphone, his posture ramrod straight in his pristine black suit.
It was impossible to imagine that only fifteen minutes earlier, those fingers had been buried in her hair, that suit pressed up against her dress.
It wasn’t just the fact of the kiss that was throwing her; it’s that it was good.
Really, really good. Too good. Ari’d kissed her fair share of guys, but there was always a learning curve in the beginning—too much tongue or not enough or weird hand placement.
Judah kissed with intention, and it made her wonder just how much experience the wedding singer had in that department.
She still couldn’t quite process the fact that he was single.
He was famous and talented and, okay, admittedly kind of hot, and while his personality left a lot to be desired, she could certainly see how, objectively, he’d be considered a major catch.
And other than kissing her senseless in the bridal suite, he had the frum family man vibe down pat.
So what was his deal?
“Arielle! What are you doing out here?” Her mom broke through the outer circle and gripped her arm, pulling her back onto the dance floor. Ari stifled a groan and let herself get dragged, narrowing her eyes at Dana’s smirk.
“What’s with your hair? You look like you got into some trouble.”
Ari glared at her big sister. “Mind your own business.”
Dana snorted with laughter and whispered something to Hannah, who joined her, and Ari debated accidentally tripping them both. It took everything in her to ignore them for the rest of the dancing, and as soon as it ended, she made a beeline for the vodka.
By the end of the night, she was beyond exhausted.
It’d been a long day of photographs, uncomfortable clothes, and running in and out of the dancing circles with chairs and water and whatever else Aleah needed.
The energy required to push that stupid kiss with Judah Klein out of her head took all the rest out of her.
And on top of everything else, she still had the hour-long ride back to the city ahead, with Miriam and her sisters, no less.
She went back to the bridal suite and, relieved to see it empty, collapsed onto the couch. It was all too easy to imagine what could’ve happened in there tonight if they’d had a little more time and a little less responsibility—or at least, what might’ve happened if it’d been any other guy.
But Judah Klein? For so many reasons, it simply did not compute.
The door opened, and she jumped up, assuming it was Miriam or one of her sisters come to collect her.
It wasn’t.
“What are you still doing here?” she asked Judah, who still looked annoyingly perfect after a night of singing, not so much as a kippah clip out of place.
“They told me to stay and eat, so I stayed. I ate.”
“A lot of people stayed and ate,” Ari said suspiciously, just as the answer dawned on her. “But not a lot of them kissed a bridesmaid and wanted to see her again, I’m guessing.”
His cheeks flushed as if he’d been caught at something, and she supposed he kinda had. “I wanted to see if you needed a ride.” Her eyebrows shot up. “A ride home,” he clarified. “In my car. Seeing as you also live in the city.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she was all set, but the truth was, the idea of spending an hour with Miriam, Dana, and Hannah right now, doing a wedding postmortem, sounded like a living nightmare. “I would not say no to that,” she said coolly, even though she probably should. “Thank you.”
He nodded stiffly. “Need help with any bags?”
“Nah, all the schtick stuff is Miriam’s. I just have this one with my shoes and extra makeup and stuff.”
“Okay.” He turned to lead her out to his car, but before he could pull open the door, she rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Judah.”
He whirled around and cupped her face in his warm, strong hands, his mouth finding hers as if they were simply picking up where they’d left off hours ago, desperate and wanting.
She pressed him up against the wall, fantasizing about tearing his perfection apart, but there was at least one working corner of her brain that knew that was an incredibly bad idea.
Besides, she wasn’t going to be finding relief anytime soon—not while she was wearing a floor-length gown.
Groaning, she pulled away, but not before tugging his lip between her teeth.
She was rewarded by a soft growl she could feel in her entire body.
Not once on stage tonight did Judah Klein make a single slipup, but here he was, a mess undone by her teeth and tongue, and the power of that was something she was gonna have to take up with her vibrator when she got home.
“I’d say ‘sorry’ again…”
“But you’re not,” she filled in, “and neither am I. Except about your timing. Your timing kind of sucks. Unless…”
“Unless?”
She arched an eyebrow. “How good a driver are you?”
He shook his head in disbelief as he yanked open the door. “Oh my God,” he muttered. “Let’s go.”
A quick conversation with a suspicious Miriam later, and Arielle and Judah were on their way. But despite his politely putting her bag in his trunk and holding her door open, he’d already gone a solid ten minutes without saying a single word to her.
The ride wasn’t silent—he put music on almost immediately, and the thought occurred to her how painfully awkward it would be if he put on one of his own songs.
But it was an innocuous playlist, a mix of classic and folk rock beginning with John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” which she’d always liked.
Once the next song began, though, she could no longer stand the lack of conversation. “So, two things about you I’ve learned tonight,” she said, her voice sounding extra loud to her ears. “You’re not shomer negiah, and you don’t listen strictly to Jewish music in your free time.”
“Sounds like what you learned tonight is that you make a lot of assumptions,” he said coolly, not a hint of flirtation in his voice.
“You’re telling me you never gave a single thought to me before kissing me tonight? Made no assumptions?”
“Well, I assumed we could go this entire car ride without discussing what happened earlier, so I guess I’ve made some poor assumptions too.”
Arielle snorted. “Oh, you did not. You waited around for me the entire wedding specifically so that you could drive me home from the wedding at which we kissed, and you want me to believe you didn’t want to talk about it? You’re full of shit.”
He winced, and she didn’t know whether it was the accuracy, the profanity, or the callout that did it, but she certainly wasn’t sorry.
“Fine, then I’m telling you now that I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine.” It wasn’t as if she was dying to talk about it either. If that was how he was gonna be, then she had no interest in a repeat, even if it was a really, really good kiss.
Even if they both were.
The song changed to “Bad Moon Rising,” and Ari was tempted to sing along, but she wondered if Judah abided by Kol Isha.
Then she laughed to herself at the absurdity of considering it forbidden to listen to a girl sing when you’d just had your tongue down her throat.
Or maybe it wasn’t entirely to herself, because Judah snapped, “What’s so funny? ”
“Nothing. God.” She huffed out a breath. “You know, I don’t think you get to be mad at me because you liked kissing me,” she said flatly.
“I’m not mad at you because I liked kissing you.” His response came out in a snarl that picked up right where his kiss left off, sending a fresh jolt of heat through her body.
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
“I’m driving, Arielle. Keeping your eyes on the road is kind of the point.”
“You’re going to laser potholes into the pavement, which feels like a little much.
” She sighed and turned to look out the window, taking in the New York City skyline.
She always searched for the Empire State Building to see what colors it was lit up that night, with bonus points if she could figure out why.
Sometimes it was obvious, like green and red for Christmas or blue and white for Chanukah.
Purple and white for NYU graduation took her a little longer.
“I had a ride, you know. You didn’t have to drive me. ”