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 itwas. 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.