“Wedohave one of those marriage pacts in case we’re both single by forty, mostly for the benefits. So, you know, I’m his worst-case scenario.”
“Oh good, that makes me feel so much better.”
Ari grinned. “Don’t worry—I have a feeling once your brother actually puts himself out there, he isn’t gonna be single for long. I mean, not that I know a whole lot about the gay Orthodox dating scene, but Akiva is about as great as guys get. Just don’t ever tell him I said that.”
“I would never,” Judah promised. “But what happens to your pact? If he’s taken and you’re still available at forty?”
“Why?” She snorted, trying to imagine herself as the consummate Mrs. Judah Klein, donning a pristine wig and a skirt down to her shins. “You offering yourself up?”
“I could be. What do you think? If we’re both still single at forty?”
He was obviously joking, but the question made Ari’s heart rate pick up. It was one thing to talk about this with her gay best friend, but an entirely different thing to even kid about it with a guy who was, in the most technical sense of the word—andonlyin the most technical sense of the word—an actual possibility.
“You’re too close to forty for this kind of commitment,” she said, keeping her eyes on the Lego pieces as she snapped another two together. “Make it fifty.Myturning fifty, not yours.”
“I think we’ve probably missed the kid boat by fifty,” he pointed out.
“Probably for the best. Can you imagine what our children would be like? Absolutely insufferable little buggers who can’t stop getting into trouble.”
He laughed. “Deal. If we’re both still single in twenty-one years, bam, we’re good to go.”
Twenty-one years. He’d probablyactuallyhave five kids by then. But at least her pulse had gone back to normal. “Sold.”
They kept building and chatting until Arielle’s timer went off, signifying it was time to move the clothing to the dryer. Afterward, they returned to the couch and HGTV. Ari instinctively settled her head in his lap before realizing that was a supremely weird thing to do with a guy she’d hooked up with a grand total of twice. But his hand came to rest on her hair, his thumb lazily drawing circles on the nape of her neck, and she let herself relax into his touch.
Thankfully, getting angry about tiny houses wasverydistracting.
“That’s insane,” Judah declared, jabbing a finger at the screen. “Youcannotfit a family of six in that.”
“They can fit a family of six inanything,” Ari assured him. “Look at the storage under the stairs! How smart is that?”
“Almost as smart as this extremely cool invention called ‘a real closet.’”
“You have zero imagination,” she said in disgust.
“Well, that’s simply not true.” He trailed his fingers down to brush her collarbones, sending a pleasant shiver through her. “You should see what I’m imagining right now.”
She whacked him on the arm, and he laughed. “Perv.”
“I was imagining those chili-lime chips!” he insisted. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
They watched a woman struggling to sit up in a loft space that barely had any breathing room, and Arielle sighed. “You had to mention those chips, didn’t you?”
“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 withJudah Klein? Humorless, fastidious, way-too-frum, “I don’tdothis” 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 everythingthey’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.
