Ravi has watched her do that at book club so many times. At Stepping Stone Cafe. And once, in her kitchen, only minutes after she’d come apart on his tongue. He takes a long sip of his water, focusing on the cool sensation sliding down his throat.
It’s like that the whole dinner. Yael seems to loosen up with the food and drink, and he supposes he does, too. But he doesn’t talk much. Rarely when he isn’t addressed directly first. And he watches Yael—the drop of wine that collects in the cleft in her bottom lip, the column of her throat when she swallows.
What would it be like to be able to nudge her elbow with his when she gets to the punch line of an anecdote? To put a comforting hand on her knee when she’s nervously jiggling?
Routinely, he has to remind himself to look at Jami, to busy himself with his food. He wonders what they look like to her. Maybe it doesn’t matter what he does. Maybe it’s obvious that he’s in love with Yael—and that she’s furious with him—regardless.
It’s a kind of torture, having to get through this meal with a smile on his face.
She promised you she’d talk, he thinks.
But that was before she knew who you were. That was before she knew you knew whoshewas.
This is a complete mess. Everything is a mess. Mia slept in his room for half the night again. Suresh is at home moping and determined to pretend not to be. He won’t talk to Ravi about it, and maybe that’s good. Because half the time Ravi feels sad and sorry, and the other half he wants to shake Suresh out of whatever it was that made him think he was ready to see Margot. Wants to shake himself for notrealizing it was Suresh he had to worry about, maybe even more than Mia.
By the end of dinner, the three of them are more than full, but Jami insists thatRenegadetreat them to dessert to go. Ravi and Yael end up saying their goodbyes to Jami on the street corner, tiny brown boxes of tiramisu in hand.
“Please,” Jami says, looking between them as she pulls back from hugging Yael, “pleaselet me know if there are any last questions I can answer before we draw up a contract, okay? I’m sure any lawyer you look it over with will have questions, too.”
“Thank you,” Yael says. “It was such a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you for dinner. We’re both so excited,” Ravi says, even though he isn’t sure he’ll still have the editing gig half an hour from now.
“I think it’s gonna be huge. Really,” Jami says as a car pulls up to the corner. “This is me. Talk soon!”
She climbs in, and then they’re alone.
“Yael—”
“How long have you known it was me?” she says, looking straight at him, her gaze unmoving, for the first time since she approached their table.
Someone walks by then, and Ravi takes a half step toward her to get out of the way. When she takes a half step back, his stomach drops. “How did you get here?”
“That isnotan answer,” she spits out.
“Did you take the bus or drive, Yael? I want to know how long I have,” he says.
She stares at him, her jaw clenching, one of her eyes narrowing slightly more than the other. Completely enraged. He tries not to shrink under her gaze. “I drove,” she says.
“Let me walk you to your car.”
Under closed lips, she runs her tongue over her teeth. “Fine,” she says, and starts down a side street.
He falls in step behind her. “I haven’t known for long,” he says.
“What qualifies as ‘long’ to you?” Yael looks up at him, the yellow light from a streetlamp only emphasizing the searing heat in her eyes. “Because if I knew, I would have told youimmediately.”
“Really?” Ravi says, frustration creeping. “Because I wanted to know who you were, and you were the one who refused.”
“I thought you lived in New York, and that made the whole thing moot! That is not even a little bit the same.”
“I wanted to know you so fucking badly,” he says. “It’s not as different as you think.”
“When did you find out?” Yael demands, whirling around to face him. He doesn’t see her car anywhere nearby; she must have decided to give him more than just the walk.
The thought makes him a little desperate with hope. “Saturday morning, when I was leaving your place.”
“So, after…” She waits, biting her lip. The rest of her face is so steely, she must not realize she’s doing it. He feels like he’s sparring with her again, except none of it is fun anymore.
