The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2)(65)

Naomi folded her arms across her chest, stung against her will. “Okay, let’s cool it with the assumptions.”

“Wait . . .” The first woman was looking back and forth between Naomi and Ethan like they were a tennis match. “Are you Jewish?”

Naomi had about ten retorts for that question on the tip of her tongue. “I’m—”

“Hey,” Ethan stood up. “This is not a forum for you to interrogate your instructor on her personal life. Naomi and I have been generous enough to trust you with details about our relationship as an act of community in this space. I expect you all to honor the covenant you signed at the beginning of this course and treat the information we’ve shared with you in the same respectful manner with which you’d want sensitive information about your own romantic engagements protected.”

A few eyes dropped sheepishly, and one or two groups resumed their conversations. Naomi thought the worst might be over, until another hand went up.

She sighed. “Go ahead, Craig.”

“The only thing I want to know is whether Rabbi Cohen has met Josh Darling.”

Ethan’s blank stare told her he didn’t recognize the name. Apparently, Craig came to the same conclusion.

“All I’m saying is”—Craig turned to address his rabbi—“I would be shaking in my boots knowing that the woman I was dating still worked with the man she’d labeled the best sex of her life in multiple major news outlets. I don’t have the chutzpah to live up to that standard of screwing.”

“The best sex with a man,” Naomi muttered under her breath. “Okay, I think sharing time is over.” She directed them back into the exercise, but she could tell by the way Ethan’s eyebrows drew together thoughtfully that the damage was already done.

Inviting Ethan to Clara and Josh’s engagement party this Saturday night had seemed like a good idea when she texted him about it this morning. She’d figured her friends couldn’t share too many incriminating stories or ask Ethan too many inappropriate questions in a group that size. But if this lecture hall was anything to go by, she’d severely miscalculated. A significant amount of dread dropped into her stomach. If only she’d volunteered to go to bingo night at the synagogue instead.





Chapter Twenty-Three


BY ALL ACCOUNTS, out of the two of them, Ethan should have been the one more nervous about meeting Naomi’s friends. After all, these people already knew and liked her. Ethan’s expertise in winning over strangers, while an occupational requirement, mainly revolved around sharing various pieces of wisdom from other rabbis and/or artfully disseminating what could judiciously be termed “dad jokes.”

So, yeah, he was at a disadvantage here.

But you’d never know it by the way Naomi kept tapping her fingers against the pad of her thumb in obvious agitation as they cruised down the freeway toward her friends’ engagement party. It had been her idea to arrive together, and he was beginning to suspect it had something to do with controlling how much exposure he got to the people who knew her best.

“Hey.” He raised his eyebrow at her from the driver’s seat. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Naomi kept so much of herself in her head. Locked down. It might assuage her anxiety to call her fears out into the open.

“Maybe your friends won’t love me, but I doubt I’m gonna walk away from tonight with any enemies.” He reached up to touch the almost-gone bruise around his eye. “The likelihood that I get punched in the face for a second time this month seems slim.”

“I’m not worried about what they’ll think of you,” Naomi said, a little impatiently. “I’m worried about what they’re going to think of me.”

Well, that was not at all what he’d anticipated.

“But they already know you.”

“Yeah, and I have a very specific reputation to uphold.”

“What kind of reputation exactly?” The question was out of his mouth before he could decide if it was a good idea.

Naomi shifted in her seat.

He tried to imagine what she might be thinking, but there were almost infinite possibilities.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “you want me to guess?”

“You’ll guess wrong.” Naomi tugged on the neckline of her shirt, but instead of pulling it up the way Ethan assumed she might, she yanked it aggressively downward. What had previously been an illusion of cleavage became a declaration.

Damn. He supported whatever made her feel better. That said, he would need to figure out how to keep his eyes on the road for the duration of the trip.

“Ugh. Fine.” She leaned forward and faced him. Eyes on the road, Ethan. “As far as my friends know, I’m dark and filthy and unwinnable.”

“Oh,” he said, for lack of anything better.

Naomi narrowed her eyes at him.

“That does sound very . . . specific,” he offered.

“It is.” She crossed her arms. “But now, they’re gonna see that you make me . . .”

“Laugh?” He flexed his fingers around the steering wheel.

“Mushy,” she conceded with a pout.

“Mushy?” He pulled a face. “That doesn’t sound pleasant. No wonder you don’t want your friends to find out.”