“You mean the awkward get-to-know-you breakfast?”
“If you knew me before we slept together, breakfast wouldn’t be awkward!”
“Please.” She positions herself in front of the air conditioner and lets the cool air from the A/C blow up under the hem of her tank top. “It’s nothing but obligation and weak mimosas.”
“Congratulations. You’ve figured out how to avoid any shred of intimacy that you could possibly share with another human being.” The shallots and fennel on the stove sizzle too loudly, just on the edge of burning, but he can’t force himself to drop the argument. “I guarantee you that the best sexual experience of your life won’t be with a stranger.”
“You’re right!” she says, taking a step toward him. “It’ll probably be hate sex with someone I despise.”
It’s Josh’s turn to say something—hurl an insult or a self-righteous declaration. But instead, his mind replays that last sentence, the exchange hanging dangerously in the air between them.
“Or maybe not.” Ari shrugs. “You know who is pretty high up on that list?”
“Who?” He tries to sound nonchalant, but fears it comes off pathetically earnest.
Ari doesn’t blink. “Your girlfriend.”
The high decibel scream of the fire alarm on the ceiling drowns out Josh’s response.
* * *
HE LOOKS LIKE he’s trying to keep his balance during an earthquake.
Ari grabs the broom from against the wall, stands on a rickety folding chair, and pokes at the screaming alarm until it stops assaulting their ears.
“Natalie?” Josh looks simultaneously appalled and confused. “What about your—your boyfriend?”
“My what?”
“You’re wearing his underwear.” He glances down at Gabe’s boxers before averting his eyes again.
“Gabe?” Ari drops the broom against the wall. “He’s just a friend.”
Josh dismisses her statement with a judgmental pfft. His device buzzes.
“Natalie’s in a cab,” he reads. “She’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
Maybe it’s the mention of a ticking clock that triggers the panic. The search for the exit. For the first time all evening, it occurs to Ari what might happen if she’s still in the apartment when Natalie returns.
She would have to watch them greet each other with a kiss—the start of a romantic （albeit slightly burnt） dinner. Josh would smugly observe Natalie asking Ari if she could leave the apartment.
Better to get out of here while it’s still a choice and not a humiliation.
Ari rushes into her room and pulls on a pair of jeans she’d left on the floor. She gathers her earbuds, phone charger, and water bottle and drops them in her tote bag.
“You’re leaving?” Josh asks when she brushes past him, heading for the door.
“Yeah.” She pauses in front of the door. “Why? Were you hoping for a threesome?”
He looks bewildered for a moment and then his eyes sweep over her face, giving Ari that weird tingly sensation down her scalp—like he’s invading her personal space with his gaze. “Were you? Because two minutes ago, you were describing our hypothetical sex life.”
“And forty minutes ago, you were staring at my ass.”
“I wasn’t,” he insists, more indignantly than Ari would like. He tilts his head down, making his height advantage more obvious. “I know why you’re like this.”
It’s like he can see through things: Intro to Women’s Studies talking points, her anxious adjustments of Gabe’s boxer shorts on her hips, the false bravado of someone feeling the sting of yet another potential rejection after a day full of them.
“You don’t know anything about me,” she insists, feeling behind her back for the door handle.
“You’re so afraid of rejection, you have to latch on to some cultural studies bullshit to support your behavior.” His accent is poking through. “It doesn’t make you some brave badass. If you had any confidence in your…connection with Natalie, you’d wait for her to show up and let her decide who’s more important to her.”
“If Natalie wants to be your ‘girlfriend,’？” she says, letting the frustration and anger she’s been pushing down all day rise up to the surface, “then why does she ask me to go down on her after she’s been out to dinner with you?”
Josh stares at her, twisting his mouth. “If I had to guess?” Ari has enough experience with volcanic men to know that he’s churning up a response designed to inflict damage. “She likes the convenience.”