The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2) - Rosie Danan Page 0,35

can become potential friends or even business partners.”

“Smooth,” Leah said.

He glared at her until Naomi gently prodded him to an empty seat.

“Anything I should know about your sister going in?” Great, the only other open spot was across from his traitorous kin.

“She’s a pathological liar.”

Naomi squeezed his shoulder before walking away. He felt the contact across his whole body.

“In that case,” she said, walking backward, “I’ll make sure that any childhood anecdotes are backed up with photographic evidence.”

So this is what it feels like to swallow a live frog.

Ethan was pretty sure God wasn’t cruel enough to let Naomi fall in love with his sister.

Mercifully, the rest of the night went better than he’d imagined. The volume of the conversation rose steadily as people got into the groove of the rotations. Ethan enjoyed getting to know the seminar participants one-on-one. Each time a burst of laughter cut through the room, something inside him lit up like fireworks.

He found himself watching Naomi, how she effortlessly kept them all moving while still managing to make the person sitting across from her bloom.

It was obvious now that the connection he felt with her was one-sided. She made everyone feel special. He’d been grasping at conversational straws trying to turn their professional engagement into something more personal. He supposed years of celibacy would do that to a man.

The last rotation brought the two of them face to face.

“So,” he began, “What do you think?”

“Not bad for our first try. Obviously we need to advertise more if we want to increase the turnout, but”—she nodded over his shoulder until he turned to find Molly and a man in a plaid button-down—“I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t get at least one second date out of this group.”

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief that Molly had found someone she liked. “I didn’t realize how rusty I was at the whole dating thing.”

“This barely qualifies. It’s a glorified screening process. All you need is a good opening line.”

He tilted his head. “Wait. You never told me your go-to opening.”

“I’d tell you, but”—she ducked her head for a moment, almost shy in a way he’d never seen—“I can’t risk you falling in love with me.”

Her tone was light enough, but Ethan had a feeling she was issuing a friendly warning. Of course she would notice how her presence affected him, how much he obviously liked her.

He cleared his throat and tried to pretend he wasn’t stung. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Although . . .”

Ethan snapped his gaze back to meet hers. When it came to her, his heart was quick to call back hope.

“You might be immune.”

Was she kidding? He was the opposite of immune. He was so sick with infatuation, he was probably spreading it to everyone else in the room by sheer proximity.

In that moment, it was hard to reason why he shouldn’t just ask her out. They were both adults. There were no rules against it. If she said no, he’d of course back off immediately, but something in her eyes every time she looked at him made him think that maybe she wouldn’t say no. Maybe he’d get more than fifteen minutes to impress her. More than fifteen minutes to drink in the way her hair curled against the nape of her neck. Was he really such a coward that he wouldn’t even risk going to bat?

“Hey.” He heard how low his voice had pitched. “Would you ever—” An incessant chirping started coming from his back pocket. So loud and unexpected that they both jumped.

“Sorry.” He took it out to silence it, but when he did, over ten messages flashed angrily from the home screen.

Rabbi Cohen, since you’re dating now, I’ve taken the liberty of calling my daughter Marissa, who lives in San Clemente.

Didn’t realize you were on the market again. Call me.

Why are you lying to your mother? Rebecca Feinstein says you’ve already been out with five women.

What in the world?

Naomi raised an eyebrow. The moment was officially dead. “Everything okay?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know. Somehow the whole synagogue is under the impression that I’m dating now . . .” When he thought about the types of PR that could help this cause, this definitely wasn’t on the list. His email lit up with badges; his voice mail clogged before his eyes. This wasn’t just his congregation. This was every eligible Jewish woman in the greater Los Angeles area, or at least their mothers.

“This is insane.” He’d known that the congregation