Mira blushed. “Okay, maybe a littleBeverly Hills.”
Well, that was new. Not particularly of interest to Judah, but at least it gave Akiva something to talk to her about.
“You’ve gotta get Judah to watch it with you.” Akiva flashed a smirk at his brother. “I can’twaitto hear all his thoughts.”
“I’m sure it’ll be deeply enlightening,” Judah said wryly.
“Hey, if you can learn to like shows about tiny houses…”
“Yeah, but those are fun to be infuriated at—” Judah cut himself off as Akiva’s smirk stretched into a full-on smile dripping with smugness, and he knew he’d been caught in a trap. “It’s getting late. Maybe we should make kiddush.”
“Are we sure Ari’s not coming?” Akiva asked innocently.
Judah narrowed his eyes into a glare. “We’re sure.”
Two hours and a mildly awkward dinner later, Judah walked Mira downstairs to Liana and Arielle’s apartment, his heart growing heavier with every step. The night had been fine, but his irritation that Ari had skipped out after all that time he’d spent bracing himself to see her had only grown. And now here he was, approaching her door, and he found that the need to mentally prepare himself to see her still hadn’t gone away. Would she answer in a tank top and shorts again? Would she look annoyingly cute in sweats and a T-shirt? Or would she be dressed nicely for Shabbos, like the last time he’d come to Akiva’s, confusing and compelling him in an entirely different way that made him forget they were a poor fit?
But he was bracing himself for nothing; she didn’t even answer Mira’s gentle knock. Finally, Mira turned the knob and found that it opened easily, and the main living area was empty. “She must’ve gone to sleep,” Mira said with a shrug. “She did say she wasn’t feeling well.”
Judah didn’t believe it for a second, but what exactly could hedo? Bang on her door and demand she emerge and face him so he could prove to them both once and for all that he’d put her behind him? “Yeah. So, did you have fun tonight?”
“I did,” she said with a soft smile. “Your brother and his friends are really nice.”
Nice.He was sure Akiva would appreciate that.
“They are.”
Silence fell between them, and Judah knew he should break it, but he didn’t know how. If she were Ari, she’d probably be tugging on his belt or wrapping her arms around his neck—something that told him exactly what should come next. But Mira was looking up at him, waiting for something.
He just didn’t know what.
Finally, the awkwardness became unbearable, and Judah gave up. “Good night,” he said, just as Mira asked, “Do you want to kiss me?”
Judah coughed, unsure if he was hearing her right but also pretty sure he was. “Excuse me?”
A blush was pretty on Mira. Sweet.Nice.“Sorry, I—Arielle made a comment before that suggested you might—I mean, I don’t know if it was offhand or if she knows something I don’t, and maybe I was just misinterpreting, but”—her face burned flame red—“if you wanted to, I—that would be okay. If you wanted to.”
Ariellemade a comment? What the hell could she have said?There was no way she’d mentioned hooking up with Judah; Mira wouldn’t be looking at him like that if she had. But she’d stuck her nose in his business, messed with his girlfriend even though she was so disinterested she couldn’t even be bothered to face him at dinner, and now he was pissed.
Pissed enough to cup Mira’s face in his hands and press his lips to hers.
She made a pleased noise in her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.
It was… nice.
Kissing Ari was probably nice too, Judah could hear Akiva yammer in his head,but it isn’t the word you’d use to describe it.
That was true. This wasn’t anything like kissing Ari. It was soft and gentle, and the way Mira sighed delicately against his mouth wasn’t anything like Ari tugging his lip between her teeth. His fingertips were grazing the soft skin of her cheeks, not the curves of her body or the line of her throat. But different didn’t have to mean bad, did it? Different was just… different. Good different, maybe, if the fact that he was actually able to think was anything to go by.
It wasn’t the kind of kiss that would distract him during davening tomorrow.
It wasn’t the kind of kiss that’d occupy his mind until the very last minute of a wedding.
But there were soft hands gripping his shoulders and a tentative tongue touching his, and it was nice and normal and functional and the way things should be.
The way things had to be.
On the other side of Arielle’s bedroom door, she tried not to puke into the bag of chili-lime chips she was eating for dinner, listening as Judah and Mira finally tore their mouths apart and said good night.
