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 tzitzitdidafford 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 bypassedthe 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 notpanicking,” 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, Ihave 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.
