Chapter Fourteen #2
“No, I am. Akiva’s been freaking Brother of the Year, and I didn’t pay him any attention until I made out with his friend.
I have a level of fame people would kill for, a voice puberty didn’t destroy, and so much of the time, I hate it, even hide from it.
I get set up with a ridiculous number of girls I’m sure are great, and I’ve never been able to get excited about a single one.
And part of that—part of why I never just picked one and tried—is because I knew I’d be making a cold, affectionless home.
It’s my biggest nightmare, and I can’t do it. ”
“Oh, Judah.” Ari reached for him, but he pulled back. This had to be the least sexy speech anyone had ever made to a girl he was literally in bed with, but he’d never said any of it out loud, and maybe he needed to.
She wrapped her arms around herself instead, not mad, just respecting his space. He thought, anyway. She was still looking at him, waiting for him to continue. So he took a deep breath.
“It’s not about sex, not really. It’s, well—I want to want to kiss my wife.
My only fond memories of my parents together, the times things felt okay, were when I’d catch them kissing in the kitchen or something.
Just a quick peck. But it used to do something to my heart.
And when I started dating, I couldn’t wait to get that feeling about the person who’d give me my own little heart thump.
” He winced. “Can we strike that incredibly cheesy last sentence from the record?”
“Definitely not,” she said with a grin.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t give me that.
” This next bit was dangerous, and he knew it, but he was going to say it anyway.
“In the last week alone, I’ve spent more time with Akiva than in the past two years, Lev’s commented on how much easier I am to deal with, I’ve actually looked forward to my evenings instead of dragging my feet home, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m actually—maybe—capable of making a wife happy.
” He held up a finger. “Okay, that you have to let me rephrase. Let me be very clear before you run out of here screaming: I am not in any way referring to you as my wife, present or future.”
“Right,” Ari said, her voice sounding a little funny, and he wondered if he’d gone too far. “Ten points for using me to learn you can make a woman come.”
He would’ve assumed it was a joke, except the words dripped with acid. She must have realized it too, because she winced as soon as they came out of her mouth, and again, Judah wondered what the hell he’d done wrong.
“That’s not what I meant,” he started sharply, but then he stopped, thought about what he’d said, and soon he was the one wincing.
“I did make it sound that way, didn’t I?
I’m sorry. It’s not what I meant. I’m just trying to say that …
I know this is over after tonight. I know we want different things.
I know I have to get my act together and start controlling my own future.
And I will. But to sum up my answer to your question, I don’t feel like a frigid, toxic asshole when I’m like this with you; I feel like the guy I want to be.
And at least for this week, I’m letting that win. ”
Oh. Well, fuck. Ari opened her mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out, and then Judah spoke again.
“Look, I am absolutely a hypocrite. I am well aware that not one person in my life—except probably Akiva—would think what I’m doing with you is remotely okay.
I accept that I am every cliché of every guy who’s ever thought with his dick and tried to justify it.
I’m not trying to convince God or anyone.
But still, I just keep thinking, V’chai bahem.
You’re supposed to do the mitzvot to live, and I was really starting to feel like I wasn’t, like I’ve been quite literally dying inside. But this … this has been me living.”
“Pretty sure that doesn’t refer to getting ass, but I like it anyway,” she murmured, an ache settling into her heart. Something was happening there that wasn’t supposed to be, and wasn’t at all biblical.
“It definitely does not,” he said with a laugh. “That probably qualifies as blasphemy. This is gonna be a very busy Yom Kippur.”
Ari knew she was supposed to laugh, but a weak smile was all she could manage.
Why did it feel like they were breaking up when everything was just going according to plan?
It wasn’t like she was new to the casual hookup; she and Danny had never even come close to dating.
And when they stopped because he got a girlfriend, her only negative feeling had been the annoyance that anyone who came after was going to be less conveniently located.
But this felt … this felt …
A crack of thunder broke into her thoughts, and then the sky opened completely, rain hammering down on the windows with a vengeance. “Jesus,” she muttered, instinctively curling into Judah’s side. “That is not an ‘April shower.’ What the hell?”
“I actually love thunderstorms,” he said pleasantly, wrapping a warm, comforting arm around her—also instinctive, she was sure. “Is that weird?”
“It’s a little weird.” Truthfully, she didn’t mind them as long as she was safe indoors, and right then she felt very safe indeed. Except—“Shit, getting a cab back is gonna be a nightmare. I might do better with the bus.”
“You’re not going out in that.” He said it as if it were simply a fact that she’d be staying in his apartment. With him. Spending the night. Clearly, he wasn’t thinking straight.
“It’s getting late,” she said with a frown as her phone lit up on his nightstand. She glanced over. “Liana’s already texting, asking where I am. I should go.”
“Ari.”
She should’ve gone. She should’ve absolutely gone.
Because the things he’d said and the way his arms looked incredibly inviting and the things she knew they could do together if she spent the night—all of it was so, so dangerous.
She had not signed on for snuggly, stormy sleepovers or an entire night of making each other roar like thunder, and she didn’t know which would be worse at this point.
Outside, lightning flashed, and another round of thunder rumbled through the air.
And then, darkness.
“Shit.” Arielle lit up her phone, the text from Liana glowing back at her in the otherwise dark room.
She silently berated herself for not charging it more before coming over, and before she could think twice, she texted Liana that she was stuck at a guy’s and would be spending the night.
It was more information than she wanted to give, but Liana was a worrier, and she had to give something.
You definitely feel safe? Liana wrote back.
Ari glanced at Judah’s profile in the dark. Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. She switched the phone to Battery Saver and set it on the nightstand.
“Now can I assume you’re staying?” he asked, a trace of smugness creeping into his voice.
“Oh, shut up.” She might have had nowhere to be, and she might have been safe, but blackouts always unsettled her. They made her feel so powerless—no pun intended.
“I was teasing. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just not a huge fan of power outages. Lemme guess—you love those too?”
He laughed. “I don’t mind them, really, which is good, because my building doesn’t have a generator.
I’m not a big TV watcher, I hate being on my phone, I only use a computer for work, and I rarely keep much in my fridge.
As long as I have a flashlight or candles, I’m okay. Speaking of which, lemme go find some.”
She wrapped herself tightly in the duvet as he felt his way over to the coat closet. It didn’t take long for him to procure a small lantern-style flashlight, which he set on the dining table. Then he dug into one of the kitchen drawers for tea lights and a lighter.
“You’re making this look painfully romantic,” she teased as he placed one of the small candles on the nightstand.
“I actually planned this entire blackout,” he cracked.
“So, what do you usually do in the evenings without power?” she asked, sitting up as she watched him put the lighter back in its place.
He shrugged. “Read. Compose. Practice yuntif davening or leining. Play guitar.”
“Would you play for me?”
“You really want me to?”
“You sound so surprised. Not to feed your ego, but you remember who you are, right?”
“I do,” he said with a quiet laugh. “You’ve just never seemed into that part.”
Was he kidding? He didn’t think she’d noticed the otherworldly beauty of his voice? The way his lashes swept his cheeks when he closed his eyes in concentration? The strong fingers she knew intimately that flew effortlessly over guitar strings and piano keys alike?
In retrospect, she supposed she’d never fawned over any of that, but it had always seemed implicit. He was Judah Klein. Who wasn’t absolutely smitten with his musical abilities?
Not that she was a fangirl, but it was weird to think he could imagine she wasn’t a fan, period.
Then again, all the better to keep his ego in check.
“If it’s not too much like making you work on a night off or something.”
“It’s definitely not that,” he said with a smile, retrieving the guitar from next to the couch and bringing it back to the armchair in the corner opposite the bed. “Any requests?”
“Musician’s choice.”
“Hebrew or English? At least give me that.”
“Nope. Just play me a song you like. Any song you like.”
She imagined he was rolling his eyes, but it was too dark in the room to see for sure.
The faint glow of the lantern and candlelight was just enough to see the outline of the lean muscles in his biceps as he curled around the guitar, the edges of his boxer briefs peeking out from underneath the polished wood.
It wasn’t lost on her that no one else ever saw him like that.
It wasn’t lost on her that someday, someone else would.