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“I know a guy who makes these beautiful crafted hanukkiahs out of all sorts of found objects,” Benjamin said. “Technically, he makes them out of trash, but they’re quite beautiful. For being made of trash. I could give you his number if you’d like. Maybe he could sell them at your festival.”

“That would be wonderful,” I said. “Thank you.”

Bev smiled fondly at me. For a moment I felt guilty for it, after all Freya had told me yesterday. It wasn’t like she liked me for a reason I had anything to do with. “Your hair looks nice,” she said.

Surprised, I touched my head. I hadn’t washed my hair in the shower this morning, just tied it up out of the way, but it had of course still gotten damp. It hadn’t quite reverted back to its natural curl, but the ends had gone rogue, the middle waving. “Oh, thanks. I usually straighten it.”

Maybe I wouldn’t today, I decided spontaneously. Maybe I’d just let it do what it wanted.

I touched my hair again. My mom’s voice popped into my head. You look awfully…unkempt. I don’t want you going out with us looking like that. Do you want to stay home?

But Bev had said it looked nice. And what did it matter anyway? I didn’t care if Seth thought I was beautiful. And it wasn’t like I was going to see any of these other people again. If I looked unkempt, then I looked unkempt.

“Is Seth still sleeping?” Benjamin asked. “He never sleeps this late. He’s always been an early riser.”

Of course Seth would be an early riser. He probably popped awake with the sun every morning. I rose from the table, my coffee mostly finished. “I’ll check in and make sure he’s still breathing.”

No noise in the hallway, but everything smelled like lavender. I breathed in deep, finding it comforting. Opened the bedroom door and—

“Oh my god,” I said, because yes, Seth was breathing.

He was also naked.

Not totally naked, I realized a beat later. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. Which, come to think of it, explained why everything smelled like lavender. It also explained the beads of water clinging to the black curls scattering his chest and taut stomach and the thicker trail of black hair leading down beneath the towel—

“Oh my god,” Seth said, his eyes widening. “I’m changing.”

Why was I staring at those glistening beads of water on his skin? That was rude. I tore my eyes away and stared up at the ceiling, my cheeks heating up. My first instinct was to shout some apologies at him and slam the door and run back out into the kitchen area.

Thank goodness I’d never really been one to trust my gut, because my second instinct told me that would look suspicious to Bev and Benjamin. I was their son’s girlfriend after all. We were presumably sharing a bed and saw each other naked all the time. So, fighting that first instinct, I slid inside and shut the door behind me.

I didn’t let my eyes slide back down to Seth, but I assumed his cheeks were as red as mine. “Sorry,” I said, as quietly as I could, so my voice wouldn’t reach the kitchen. “But your parents would think it was weird if this freaked us out, right?”

“Right,” Seth said, and from how strangled his voice was, I knew I was one hundred percent right about red cheeks. The cheeks on his face. I wouldn’t know about his other cheeks. They’d been covered up by the towel. Not that I’d looked. “It’s fine. No big deal. Maybe just face the wall?”

I was too close to the door to turn around without hitting the knob, so I took a step forward. And, naturally, since I was still staring at the ceiling like I was trying to read a treasure map printed on it, tripped over something. One of my shoes from last night, I realized as I was falling.

“Whoa!” Seth managed to catch me in his arms before I could fall flat on my face. His bare arms. His bare wet arms. His bare wet arms flanking his bare wet chest.

Those bare arms against my shoulders, my waist, were strong and capable and warm. They cradled me for a moment, and I had to fight the urge to lean into them, to rest my head against his shoulder.

And then I realized that those arms had been holding up his towel. I lurched upright and away, my face so hot it might actually combust into flame and fry us both crispy like latkes. “Sorry, sorry,” I said hastily, then noticed that the towel was firmly knotted around his waist, barely dipping under his belly button. An innie. I had an innie, too.

“Don’t worry about it,” Seth said, his voice still strangled. Maybe because I was staring at his belly button. Which was weird. I went to tear my eyes away, only to notice a slight bulge there beneath the knot. It could have been a wrinkle in the towel or it could have been—

Abby! Get out of here!

I spun around, feeling frantically for the doorknob. Somehow I had the presence of mind to call over my shoulder in what I hoped was a spritely and cheerful and not at all frantic manner, “Sounds good! I’ll get some coffee ready for you!”

And then I was out in the hallway, the door closed behind me. I had to lean against it for a second to let my hammering heart calm down a little bit. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Why was I so flustered? It wasn’t like I was some blushing innocent who’d never seen a shirtless guy before. I saw shirtless guys all the time. Not, like, a weird amount of the time. A normal amount of the time. At the beach. Running outside during the summer. Sometimes, unpleasantly, in my café.

So pull it together, Abby.

Back in the kitchen, I managed to smile for Bev and Benjamin. “He just got out of the shower and is getting changed,” I said. “He should be here soon.” To avoid having to look them in the eye, I busied myself making Seth the perfect cup of coffee, even sprinkling in some cinnamon and nutmeg to mimic the flavor of his usual pumpkin spice latte.

It took him longer to come out than I expected, and I definitely did not spend those extra minutes thinking about what exactly he could be doing in there that would be taking so long, nope, not at all, my cheeks were always this red.

He finally came padding out wearing a T-shirt and jeans, hair sticking up all over his head. “Good morning,” he said, and good for him, it no longer sounded like he was being strangled. “Ooh, is that for me?”