this evening with uncomfortable questions.”
Fredric grinned, but the smile was faint. “Are you good looking?”
The silence was louder than the cars driving by, then Hudson let out an awkward chuckle. “I’ve…never had to answer that before. I mean, not to a person who couldn’t find out once we met face to face.”
“I know,” Fredric told him. “And you can lie, and I’ll never really know. I mean, my neighbor saw your profile, and she said you were attractive, but I was curious what you thought.”
“About myself? God, you really go for the jugular,” Hudson said with a sharp breath. “Ah…yes. I think I’m attractive. I’ve had enough dates and interested people to keep my ego firmly intact.”
“Good,” Fredric told him. “If you were wondering at all, in the way I find people attractive, you’re a solid six.”
Hudson barked out another laugh. “Okay. After that date back there, I think I’ll take it.” He was quiet again, and Fredric heard his feet shuffle along the sand. “Are you going to try again? Not with me, obviously. But with the app?”
“I think so,” Fredric told him. “I want…something. I’m not sure exactly what yet, but I know reckless, wild love that creates instead of destroys is possible. And I know it’s rare, but I like to think I’ve worked hard for it all these years.”
“I’ve never had that myself,” Hudson told him. “I’ve never even seen it, but I figure if it exists in movies and books and poems—there has to be some basis of reality.”
“I’ve stood close to it,” Fredric told him, thinking of Archer, of the way he’d given Julian an entire universe—and he’d done it all in a single week. “And I really enjoyed our date, even if…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to.
“Yeah,” Hudson breathed out. “So did I. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Fredric held out his hand, and Hudson took it. He had small, thin fingers and a weak grip, but Fredric had a feeling the last part was on purpose. “Thank you. I hope you do too.”
And then they parted, simple as that, and Fredric gave Bas the command to head home. It was a quiet walk, cars punctuating his thoughts every few hundred feet, but he was focused. Hudson was a good guy, but he’d given Fredric tangible proof of the one thing that made him hesitate when it came to doing this at all.
Not every date was going to be like John, and not every date was going to have no spark like Hudson. Every date was going to be a fucking disaster, though, because Fredric was self-aware to know one thing: he was really fucking terrible at all of this.
Luckily, he knew one man who was effortlessly charming and willing to do whatever Fredric asked. And although it made his stomach twist in the strangest way, he made a decision the moment he stepped through the door. He was going to have to beg Ilan for help.
Chapter 10
Leaning against his kitchen counter, Ilan shuffled to the right until his feet were resting in the stream of sunlight that was slowly warming his floor. He basked for a minute, listening to his kettle heat as he stared out the window. He’d awoken to a haze settled over the water, the mist warming the already humid air, and it didn’t feel at all like December was approaching.
Then again, he supposed it never really did.
When he was younger, they used to drive up to Pennsylvania to spend the High Holidays with his aunt and uncle. Then they passed, and his parents stayed home, and Rosh Hashanah dinner lost some of the magic without the crisp autumn chill. He never did lose that feeling of disconnect, and as the weeks crept further into winter, he found himself bracing for the cold that would never come.
When the kettle clicked off, he jumped, then rolled his eyes at himself as he reached into his cabinet for a mug. It still felt a little strange to see all his things in this new place. He still felt like he was on vacation rather than settling into his new life, and his stomach twisted with something he couldn’t quite name. Homesick, though he didn’t miss his old house—he just missed what life had been when everything made sense.
He grabbed his little honey jar, staring at the bee on the front. It had been the one this mother put out for Rosh Hashanah. He’d taken