Chapter Eleven #2
“I’ll get them.” He headed over to the kitchen, and as Ari followed his ass in her shorts, she marveled at how quickly he’d made himself at home in her apartment. Then he glanced over his shoulder, smirking when he caught her staring, and she quickly molded her face into a mask of innocence.
“You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” Judah said with a grin, grabbing the chips from the counter where they’d tossed them to free up the table for the Lego. “I’m sure that comes as a complete surprise.”
The timer on Ari’s phone went off before she could respond, and she blinked at it for a few seconds before remembering. “The dryer.” The whole reason Judah Klein was still in her apartment, wearing her clothes. Right. “I’ll head down.”
“I’d offer to help, but—”
“But you’d rather die than run into your brother while wearing my clothes. Understood. Enjoy the chips.” She left Judah behind and went back down to the laundry room, her mind racing as she filled her hamper with clean clothes.
What the hell was she doing? Of all the guys to have a little fling with, she went with Judah Klein? Humorless, fastidious, way-too-frum, “I don’t do this” Judah Klein? Well, okay, so he hadn’t been any of those things today, but still.
She knew he was the only one responsible for making his own decisions. She knew he had enthusiastically consented to everything they’d done. And still, she couldn’t help feeling guilty, as if she were responsible for sending a pious man on the road to hell. It defied logic.
Almost as much as the fact that she very much wanted to see him again.
Growling in frustration, she grabbed her hamper and toted it back up to her apartment, bracing herself with a deep breath before reentering.
Unfortunately, the feeling did not abate any when she saw him, hair adorably mussed, elbows on his knees as he sniped at HGTV the way other men shouted at sports.
For a moment, she lingered in the doorway, watching him, amazed at the transformation from the guy he was on stage to … this.
It was a-fucking-dorable. And it was also a solid reminder of how quickly she could turn him from perfection into chaos.
It wasn’t an ability she was sure she wanted to possess.
He looked up and laughed sheepishly as he caught her eye. “I might be a little too invested.”
“Perhaps you got out of real estate a little too quickly.” She handed him his clothing, a tiny part of her wishing she’d folded them first and a bigger part of her hating the smaller part.
She expected him to disappear into the bathroom or her bedroom to change into his clothes, but he simply pulled off her shirt, shucked off the shorts, and changed right there.
His tzitzit did afford some coverage, but for some reason, this seemed even more intimate than the extracurricular activities that had necessitated the laundry.
“Thanks for this,” he said, buttoning up his shirt with impressive dexterity.
“I appreciate you letting me crash your chill Sunday. I needed that more than I realized.”
“I’d say I benefited at least a little bit,” she replied with a grin.
He huffed out a laugh and slid his wallet and phone into his pocket. That was it. She’d taken him apart, and he’d put himself back together. This was where he walked out and went back to his own neat, famous life.
“So, you have your own place, huh?” she blurted.
“I do,” he said, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then realization dawned on his face. “And given that you’re clearly an expert on tiny spaces, maybe you want to come see it? Say, tomorrow night? For science, obviously.”
“Well, how else will I know how good a real estate agent you really are?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.
He laughed, low and sexier than Judah fucking Klein had a right to sound, and brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “I’ll text you my address. See you tomorrow, Arielle.”
And then he was gone.
Ari groaned as yet another shopping basket whacked her in the hip. “I should never have agreed to come here with you,” she grumbled to Liana, who was examining two identical-looking cans of cake meal. “Grocery shopping the week before Pesach is an entirely different level of chaos.”
Liana murmured her agreement, but her eyes were still on the cans. “Why are these different colors? What am I missing?”
Ari gave them a quick glance. “That one’s gluten-free,” she said, pointing to the one in Liana’s right hand. “See? Says it right there.”
“Those letters are tiny,” Liana grumbled, putting it back and tossing the other into her cart. “And this is exactly why I need you to join me.”
“Oh? It’s not to tell you that you and my eighty-four-year-old grandmother are the only two people on the planet who need four boxes of jelly rings for Pesach?”
“Pardon me for finding some joy in a holiday that doesn’t allow for pasta consumption,” Liana sniffed.
“There’s pasta right there,” Ari pointed out, indicating a whole display of bags and boxes.
“I am not eating pasta made out of tapioca.” Liana bypassed the noodles and grabbed a can of matzo farfel, then considered and added another.
“I like that tapioca is too gross for you, but you literally eat matzo farfel with raisins as cereal.” Ari was shocked the first time Liana had mentioned it, and she still hadn’t quite gotten over it.
Granted, there were no good Pesach cereals—certainly not if you didn’t eat kitniyot like rice and corn, which, as Ashkenazim, they didn’t—but for someone who had strong, pointed feelings about food, that one remained a massive head-scratcher.
“It’s good with raisins! I can’t explain it.”
“No, you certainly can’t.” They kept walking, picking snacks and baking supplies off the shelves for Liana to bring back to her house for Pesach.
Ari had nothing in hand except the chocolate-covered cashew clusters she couldn’t live without, but her mom was way more liberal with purchases of cakes and chips than Liana’s.
If Liana didn’t bring back bags full of supplies and do all the baking, her mom would be feeding her nothing but salads the entire holiday.
“How are you feeling about Gideon’s mom and sister coming to a Seder? Still panicking?”
“I’m not panicking,” Liana said as she sidestepped a toddler crying on the floor of Kosher Emporium to grab a bag of chocolate chips, which Ari knew would be going into her killer “I can’t believe it’s kosher for Pesach” mandelbread. “I am … mildly dreading.”
“Oh, yes, excellent distinction. Thank you for drawing it.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I love Irene and Sarah.
But Sarah’s already made a whole bunch of jokes about how she’s going to sneak in watching a movie under the table because the Seder’s so long, and I’m starting to think she’s not kidding.
And Irene’s been really great about Gideon getting more religious, but her support tends to come in the form of asking a million questions about why we do things and then nodding and saying, ‘Hmm. Interesting.’ Considering, well, everything about the Seder, I have a feeling I’m going to want to walk into the Red Sea sometime after ‘Mah Nishtana.’”
“At least you don’t have to sing it this year,” Ari pointed out, pressing herself up against the takeout case to make space for a man pushing a cart while wearing a baby across his chest. As the youngest in her family, Liana’d always been tasked with singing the four foundational questions of the Seder, even as an adult.
She’d always hated it, and Ari had always found it hilarious.
It was kind of a shame that Liana’s nephew had grown old enough to be able to take the reins.
“I wish you could record Ollie doing it. I bet it’s ridiculously adorable. ”
“It is,” Liana said with the proud, blissful sigh she used whenever her adorable nephew came up. “I can’t believe he’s gonna be a big brother. He’s still so little.”
Ari’s stomach flipped. Even though she knew Liana was talking about her big sister Aliza’s pregnancy, her mind immediately went to how Liana could be sharing her own news a couple of years from now.
Liana’d always wanted to be a mom before thirty, and while that ship had sailed, it wouldn’t shock Ari if her best friend got right down to business the minute the wedding ended.
Getting married was change enough, but becoming a mom? It was so much, and Ari was so behind, and she didn’t want to be any further along, but no one ever asked what she wanted; they just made these huge life changes, and—
“Ar? You okay? Did someone nail you in the back of the legs with a shopping cart again?”
Ari looked into her best friend’s eyes, so full of concern, and lied her ass off. “Yeah, totally fine, sorry. Just spaced out for a second.”
She expected that to be enough, but Liana was still scrutinizing her, a sad little smile on her face.
“I feel like this is the first time we’re hanging out in weeks, and I dragged you to a freaking grocery store.
I’m sorry I’ve been so occupied with wedding stuff.
It’s just that everything has to be booked months in advance, and there was that whole back-and-forth about the engagement party and whether to do it even though it has to be so late because of Aliza’s bed rest, and—”
“Lee.” Ari squeezed her arm. “It’s okay. I know it’s a ridiculous time for you right now.”
“Still, we should hang out. I need, like, half an hour after we get back to prep for tomorrow and then can we do a movie night?”
Now it was Ari who was feeling bad. Judah Klein was not someone for whom she should be turning down plans with Liana, and yet …
A brief flash of memory from the night before—the way he’d drunk her in from her bedroom doorway as if she were the most spectacular thing he’d ever seen—burst into her brain, rendering her throat dry.
“I actually have plans tonight,” she said, hoping her voice sounded casual and not as squeaky as it did to her ears. “Maybe tomorrow night?”
Liana frowned. “I have a couple of parent meetings tomorrow night, and Wednesday night is—”
“Don’t worry,” Ari said with a smile. “I know date night with Gideon is sacred. We’ll figure it out, Lee.
We live together, at least until August.” She ignored the way her stomach swooped again, and whether it was from the massive upcoming change in their lives or from hiding the truth about where she was going that night from Liana, she wasn’t sure.
But she knew Liana would blow things way out of proportion and make some ridiculous assumptions if she found out.
“Fine,” Liana said grumpily, “but I’m holding you to that. Now come on—my arms are about to fall off.”
Ari was only too happy to oblige.