The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2)(40)

“I did something dumb.”

Leah looked up from her position, cross-legged on the ground surrounded by dusty mahzors.

“Shocking.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose without thinking, yelping as he aggravated the tender skin around his eye. “I did something because I thought it would make one thing better, but actually it made everything worse.”

“Sorry. No information was disclosed in that sentence.” Leah tilted her head as she ripped a new piece of tape. “Does this confession have something to do with you getting your ass kicked?”

He reached for his coffee cup only to find it empty. This day felt a thousand years long, and it wasn’t even ten yet.

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to be a jerk about it?”

“How very dare you.” Leah put a hand to her heart. “I have never been a jerk in my entire life.”

At Ethan’s eye roll, she relented.

“All right, yes, I promise. Sheesh. So delicate.”

“I think I almost kissed someone.”

Leah stared at him expectantly.

“Still relying on a lot of qualifiers and ambiguity.” She waved for him to continue.

He sighed. “I think I almost kissed Naomi Grant.”

“No way.” Leah’s shout reverberated across Ethan’s aching eye socket.

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because she’s a five-foot-ten goddess and you’re . . . you,” Leah said slowly, as if this were very obvious.

“What happened to you not being a jerk?”

“I forgot.” She picked up another High Holidays prayer book to label. “Look, I’m both listening and helping. A model sister, I’d say. Tell me about your almost-kiss.”

He really needed to find other people to talk to about his romantic misadventures. But at the moment, Leah was his best and only option. If anyone not compelled to secrecy by blood found out about his interest in Naomi, the already rampant rumor mill would get completely out of hand.

Slumping down to join her on the floor, Ethan wiped his hands on his jeans.

“I think we almost kissed. I was kinda drunk, and I could only see out of one eye at the time, but I’m pretty sure.”

Leah curled her lips together in a way that he knew meant she was holding back a laugh.

He flattened himself on his back like a pancake and groaned, not caring about all the dust they’d kicked up in the last half hour. “Why are you the worst?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Leah said, pseudo-innocent.

“You were thinking something uncharitable.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Please describe the circumstances that led up to the almost-kiss.”

“You’re making me feel so dumb right now.” Ethan touched his wound and winced.

“Not sure I can take full credit for that one, bud.” Leah tipped the rest of her coffee into his empty cup. A worthy peace offering. “Come on. Keep going.”

Ethan sat up to drink. “Okay. So, our faces were really close together.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And she was looking up at me.”

“Oh, wow,” Leah said, displaying exaggerated interest.

“I hate you so much.” Ethan was already embarrassed enough as it was. He was thirty-two. Way too old to be agonizing over a kiss that hadn’t even happened. But somehow even an almost with Naomi was one of the most exciting and subsequently terrifying things that had ever happened to him.

“What? I’m invested.”

“Ugh. Fine, whatever.” They’d come this far. “Anyway, so yeah, I felt like she wanted me to kiss her, and I really wanted to kiss her, but then I thought, what if she doesn’t actually want me to kiss her and then I do kiss her and then she hates it and never wants to see me again? Then I’ve failed the synagogue and offended the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

Leah nodded slowly. “That is a lot of thinking.”

Ethan let out a gusty sigh. “I know.”

“So if you didn’t kiss her, what did you do?”

Ethan closed his eyes, not wanting to risk Leah’s reaction to his next confession. “I asked her to find me a girlfriend.”

Leah was quiet so long he opened his eyes again to make sure she was still there.

“Wait. You . . .”

“Yeah.”

“But that’s . . .”

Ethan took off his hat and groaned into it. “I know.”

“So now . . .”

“Right.”

“Fuck,” Leah said.

“What do I do?” Ethan couldn’t believe he was asking his little sister for dating advice. The last twenty-four hours had been extremely humbling.

“Well.” Leah stood up, shaking out her legs as if her feet had started to fall asleep. “I think to start, you should tell her you’re an idiot. And please don’t do it by using some story from Exodus. Please, please.”

Ethan picked up a vibrant hand-stitched kippah from one of the boxes. Maybe he’d wear it for services. “Oh. You know, there actually is a story from Exodus that would provide a fitting simile.”

“Noooooo.” Leah flicked him on the arm.

“Okay, fine, I won’t use any biblical stories.” Unless he could find a subtle way to work one in . . .