Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
“ Y ou left me on ‘read.’”
The crowd was surging in two different directions – a mass exodus to leave the boat and another swarming the stage, but its star attraction had already left it. And he was standing right in front of her.
Avi’s hair was wild, his shirt clinging to him, and his eyes—God, his eyes—were so earnest it almost hurt to look at him.
“Never leave a rock star on ‘read’, Gellman.”
Leah folded her arms tightly across her chest, as if to hold herself steady. What he had said in his text – and just now on stage – wasn’t lost on her.
He nudged his toe against hers. “Jonah said you found Doctor Whatshisface.”
“I can’t believe Jonah’s still standing, let alone talking.”
She nudged his right back. “But yes. And I wrote down his grandma’s recipe for him, to make his own damn rugelach.”
To make as a surprise for his Hollywood screen actress girlfriend, actually. Now Leah understood what Hersh had meant when he texted he and his partner had demanding careers, and why they were keeping it on the down-low from Grandma Tilly.
“So if he’s still off your wish list…am I still on it?”
“Avi… it’s only been three days. I feel it, too. I do. But it’s happening so fast, and that terrifies me. We haven’t even had a real first date yet. Technically.” She let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head. “Lay some science on me, Wolfson. Help me understand why this feels so…right.”
A spark of mischief lit his grin. “I don’t have science,” he said, stepping closer. “But I do have math. Hear me out.” He held up his hands, laying out his case. “Over the last three days, we’ve spent roughly sixty hours together—nonstop, give or take a bathroom stop. If the average first date lasts, let’s say, one to two hours? Then we already had ours. It was back at the food court in the mall. Fine dining. Shared fries.”
Leah stared at him, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry.
“Our second date? Picnic in the Niagara Falls parking lot. Romantic view, amazing snacks.” His voice softened as he held her gaze. “After that, most dates last, what? Two to five hours? Conservatively speaking, we’ve had—let’s see—twenty-four dates already? That’s a whole month of dating.”
Her heart thundered as she looked at him, this ridiculous, sincere man in front of her, laying out his argument like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Twenty-four dates, Leah,” he finished, his voice quiet but steady, as he cupped her face with a gentle caress. “I’m not saying it’s not fast. I’m saying… we’ve already put the time in. And it’s real.”
Leah swallowed, feeling the smile tug at her lips despite herself. “You’re very logical for a rock star.”
“Just leveling up the bucket list.”
Five things you can see…
Hotel minibar, luxe bathrobe, his bare foot. Leah’s sparrow tattoo in the dim light, her hair spread on the pillow.
It tickled against his shoulder. Avi kissed her temple, fingers finding hers. She stirred in her sleep, sliding a leg between his. Four things you can feel.
He heard the muted ding of a faraway elevator. Manhattan street traffic waking up below. Leah sighing in her sleep.
The hotel’s signature spice scent, all around. Clean skin. He inhaled deep, closing his eyes. Sex.
He tasted Leah on his lips.
As if on cue, Avi’s group chat lit up. It was Sylvie, kicking it off with her annual Ballers on the Baller photo.
Sylvie
A memorable Hanukkah for the OG Matzo Ballers…and some NG Ballers too. Love you guys.
Avi was commanding the stage. Not the acoustic auction stage or the main ballroom stage. It was the makeshift stage area out on the deck. He had been so busy tongue-twisting his way through that funky iconic rap, he’d barely noticed his entire crew on this year’s boat had shown up…and then some.
Jonah caught, suit flashing, in a Dance Fever move. Libby, laughing with her head back, hand on Nora’s arm, their eyes squeezed shut. Beck was boogying around them, with Talia and Asher – when the hell had he put on the fur coat? – mock-grinding and getting freaky. Even Jay and Rebecca had made it into the perimeter of the shot, strolling in mid-conversation and captured unbeknownst to them.
Leah was in the center of it all, head tilted to the side, arms languid overhead. Lost in the dance, eyes closed and smiling happily.
The only trace of Sylvie was in the lower right-hand corner. One eye, one perfect brow. Flaxen hair, mussed by the breeze. Giving no clue as to the rest of her expression, perhaps deliberately leaving that to the eye of the beholder.