“It was like I was this wonder to behold, like he couldn’t believe he got to touch me. And he actuallycaredthat I felt good. I’ve hooked up with a lot of guys, and no, I don’t need you to confirm that; I’m well aware. But I’ve never felt so fucking worshipped.”
She thought of all the times he’d just stared at her, like he wanted to commit every inch of her to memory. The times he told her she was beautiful, as if it were a universally accepted fact. The look in his eyes when he first saw her in lingerie. God, if she could bottle that look…
“So, magnetic kisser and worshipful in bed. This isfascinating.”
Ari rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t make herself shut up. It felt so good to finally talk about it rather than trying to lock everythingup in a box and hide it in the back of the closet. “Also, shockingly, wonderfully filthy.”
Liana’s eyes widened. “I can’t tell if you’re just making fun of me now.”
“Talks dirty at least as well as he sings. And it was just so… fun? I had such a good time with him, even when we weren’t fooling around. I did a fuckingLegowith him, for God’s sake.”
“Sacred!”
“I know! And I thought for sure I’d be bored by the end of the week—I honestly did—but instead it was like…”
Liana’s eyes softened. “Like you were excited to be coming home to him?”
Oof.“Yeah,” Ari said quietly. “Like that.”
“Ari.” Liana reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re allowed to have feelings for a guy.”
“IknowI’m allowed to have feelings for a guy,” Ari lied, “but Judah’s not aguy. He’s… a stupid fucking celebrity. People pay him to perform. He always looks goddamn perfect. He has a fucking sponge organizer in the meticulous apartment that heowns. And most importantly, he’swith someone else. And she’s thin and pretty and sweet and tznius, and if he wanted someone like me, he wouldn’t be with someone like her, okay? I’m not the girl you take home to your parents or show off at fancy Pesach programs.”
“I’m happy to bring you home to my parents any day,” Liana said with a sniff. “And that’s his loss.”
Ari laughed and wrapped her arms around Liana’s elbow, pulling her close and resting her head upon her best friend’s. “If it weren’t for all the stupid things in the way, like your fiancé and our unfortunate heterosexuality, I’d snatch you up in a heartbeat,Liana Baila. You’re gonna be a great wife.”
“Soon by you,Ariella Rachel. Soon by you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Judah felt sick to his stomach as he headed back into his apartment, and more than anything, he wanted to blame it on having too many s’mores.
He hated that he knew better.
He hated that he knew there was only one person in the world capable of making him feel like his entire body was turning itself inside out.
Judah Klein was never unprepared. He planned, he practiced, and—that one week before Pesach aside—he did everything exactly by the book. But he was not prepared to see Arielle Becker looking knockout beautiful at that party, her hair gleaming in the evening sunshine. He definitely wasn’t prepared for the incredibly awkward ride home, tension so thick you could choke on it despite Liana’s best efforts to fill the silence. And he wasn’t remotely prepared to confront how neither time nor distance had diminished his attraction to her in the slightest.
He grabbed a beer from his fridge and slumped down on the couch, scrubbing his face. “What the hell did you do to me?” he muttered as he reached into the coffee table drawer for a coaster. It’d been five weeks since the night she slept in this very apartment, and still, his bed felt emptier without her.
Not to mention the image of her lying there, completely naked, all soft curves and wild hair spread out for him… it was impossible to escape, tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. At the time, he’d been sincere that no part of it felt like a mistake, and it was still impossible to regret their time together. But he was tryingso hard to move on, and she’d just wrecked five weeks of progress without even trying.
He couldn’t have called her after Havdalah from the hotel in Playa del Carmen; he and Mira would’ve had no shot if he’d heard Arielle’s throaty, melodious voice over the phone. It was for the best, for both of them. But whether or not Ari saw it that way, she was still pissed—hated him, maybe—and it made him sick to his stomach.
None of this was right.
Because if Judah were honest with himself, a call from Arielle could still wreck him and Mira in a heartbeat if she wanted it to. Seeing her tonight, all he wanted was to hear her laugh again, to go home together to curl up on the couch and watch stupid shows about stupid homes. He wanted to hear about what books she was working on, and how Liana was driving her nuts with wedding planning, and how ridiculous she thought the newest waves of videos from his fandom were.
He had known he’d miss her body—that full mouth and clever tongue, the way her whole torso bowed when he touched her just right. But it was the way he found himself missing everything else that felt like a punch to the gut.
And even though she didn’t want him, the knowledge of how badly he wantedher, how much he’d throw away for her, meant that continuing to date Mira would make him an asshole. She deserved better, and he wasn’t better.
He was tired of trying to be better.
And he really, really missed the girl who’d made him feel great exactly how he was.
He closed his eyes, finished his beer, and pulled out his phone.
