The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2) - Rosie Danan Page 0,112

to find a way.

Leah nodded at him from beside the bar. Apparently she’d managed to make fast friends with the bartenders, which wasn’t surprising. Her nod said You can do this.

Ethan took a deep breath and pushed forward.

“The advice I can offer on breakups is limited. But one thing I have learned recently is that you can’t run from the life that’s meant for you. Don’t get me wrong. Plans fall through, even when you hold tightly to them. People change and relationships surely end, but humans find ways to fight for what they need. And it’s not always because suddenly they know how to overcome disagreements or set aside past hurts. The path forward isn’t always clear, even when it’s inevitable.”

From the back of the bar, Morey hollered, “Get out the way, you schmucks,” and the crowd started to part.

Ethan frowned, trying to clock the disturbance.

And then Naomi was standing in front of him, and a heady combination of joy and nerves hit him like sickness. He swayed a little on his feet.

She had on a mint green dress, her hair flowing loose around her shoulders.

If he never saw another lovely thing in his life, he’d be okay. Naomi was filling up his quota. Infinitely beautiful.

“Hey,” he said, mostly breath.

“Hey,” she repeated, smiling, and then there was a long moment in which they gazed at each other, goofy. “Aren’t you in the middle of something?”

“Oh.” Ethan shook his head while people in the audience laughed and wolf-whistled. “Yeah.”

“Something about how your life is worse without me,” Naomi supplied gently.

“Right.” He wanted to drink her in. Every inch, every detail. Ethan wanted to get drunk on her.

“You can’t end a lecture in the middle. Not on my watch.” She pushed him back with a light hand, letting herself fade back into the first row of the audience. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I hope you find the courage to start again when you need it,” he told the seminar participants. “Whether it’s with someone new or the one who got away. It’s always going to be easier to stand still than to move forward. An object at rest and all that. If you decide to go back to something you’ve lost, you may have to humble yourself—in a dive bar, perhaps.” He grinned ruefully. “You might have to admit that you wish you’d fought harder. You’ll have to prove that you’re ready to fight now.”

A grin split across Naomi’s face.

“One of the best things about love, real love, is that it doesn’t demand perfection. It simply invites us to live up to our potential.”

Ethan took in the crowd again, their expectant eyes and the energy of the moment they shared.

“I’m a mess right now,” he told them, trusting them to share in this truth. “I’m afraid of not being worthy of what I want. I don’t . . . I don’t know how to be this happy and also devastated at the same time. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet that I’m not going back to Beth Elohim.”

Naomi’s grin faded. “Wait a minute, yes you are.”

He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the fact that the entire room hung on their every word.

“I’m not”—he placed his hand over the lapel mic—“I want to build a life with you, and I’m not looking for anyone’s opinion on the matter except yours.”

Naomi shook her head and then stepped forward, reaching into his pocket and switching the mic off entirely. With a hand on his forearm, she steered him back into a corner, blocking the crowd with her body.

Their spectators booed accordingly until Morey climbed on a chair and told them that in his day, all good shows came with an intermission, and if they didn’t like it, they could go home and miss the finale.

With surprisingly minimal groans, they settled—looking at their phones or lining up for the bathroom.

“I owe you an apology,” Naomi said to Ethan, voice lowered but still firm. “I was selfish. When you told me you left the synagogue, I knew that you wouldn’t be able to stay away. Not for long. I wanted to be the one who ended things. Wanted to leave you before you left me for your congregation. But I’ve been thinking about it, and loving me and loving Beth Elohim aren’t mutually exclusive values.” Something soft lit her dark eyes. “What if we could convince the board to change their minds?”

But Ethan had seen the anger, the fear in Jonathan during that