Page 74 of Isn't It Obvious?
“Can I ask you something?”
His mouth pulls into a closed-lip smile, that dimple popping. “That’s kind of the deal,” he says eventually.
“I’m not sure this question is,” Yael says. Ravi holds eye contact, nodding likego on.
“Why did you sneak out of my bedroom that day?”
“Ah,” he says, and the apartment buzzer sounds.
Yael deflates, whatever courage she’d gathered to ask dissipating. “Looks like HaShem has saved you from answering.”
“HaShem?”
“Oh, it’s a Jewish thing. You’re not supposed to actually say God’s name, so what you say is ‘the name’ in Hebrew instead.”
Ravi gives her a sort of puzzled look. “You’re Jewish?”
“‘Yael Koenig’ didn’t give it away?” she jokes, before realizing that growing up in Trinidad might not have given him that specific cultural context.
Before she can apologize, he says, “No, it’s just… Never mind. You’re saying God saved me from answering you?” He smiles.
Yael grins. “Whatever higher power you believe in. God. Gods. The universe. Pizza Kat.”
Ravi laughs, nudging her legs off his lap to stand. He grabs his pants from the back of the couch and starts to get dressed.
“I can get it,” Yael says.
Ravi shakes his head. “I have cash to tip, and I want to consider my answer, because I think I should give you one.”
“Okay.”
“And,” he says, in a way that makes every inch of her skin feel hot, “I really don’t want you to put on a shirt.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ravi returns to the apartment, pizza in hand, feeling more nervous than he has the entire night. He meant it when he said he needed to think about his answer, not because he doesn’t know why he did it—it’s pretty simple when he gets down to it—but because he knows this is the difference between having just tonight and having the rest of the weekend. Maybe another time, too, if he’s lucky. And he also doesn’t want to get into everything with Mia and Suresh right now, not when the way Suresh dismissed him this morning still feels so raw.
He opens the door, and Yael is on the couch, tucked into the corner he’d been sitting in. He can tell it really is her spot. The way she fits there, folded up, the cushions seeming to envelop her, suggests that it’s been molded to her form by repeated use. There are plates and napkins on the coffee table, and as Ravi crosses over to Yael, she sits up straight and stretches out her legs.
They fill their plates without speaking, and Ravi waits until they’ve both finished their first slices to say, “So…”
“So,” she replies. “You really don’t have to. I know what this is; you don’t owe me anything.”
He takes a deep breath, looking at her. Her eyes are fixedon her pizza. “I want to, though. I’ll start by saying I don’t think I behaved well, so I don’t mean any of this to imply that what I did was good.” Yael nods, listening. “I moved to Portland because I had a responsibility to my family. It’s maybe a little more complicated than that, but the point is it would be really hard for me to be a good boyfriend to anybody right now. I’m not… dating, I guess. I met Charles in a bar, and I was attracted to him, and I went home with him for that reason. I told him as much.”
I’m not looking for anything more than sex, he’d said. Not something he’s really felt the need to clarify in that kind of circumstance before, particularly with men, but there was something about how Charles had asked him questions and held his hand that made him want to be sure. In response, Charles had dropped to his knees.
Ravi swallows against the memory. It feels treacherous to let it linger while he’s here, in the very same apartment, with Yael. “I tried to make polite excuses to leave afterward, and I don’t know… He wasn’t getting it. I stayed the night when I shouldn’t have. And he seemed so happy that I had. So, in the morning, when I knew I had to tell him that I was sorry, but I just wasn’t interested, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I thought nobody else was home, and I left.”
Yael nods, swallowing another bite of pizza. “That’s not… as surprising as I wish it was.” Ravi cocks his head to the side, confused. She clocks the gesture, sighing. “Charlie—which, by the way, is the name he goes by—he thought you were British and that he needed to sound fancy.”
Ravi laughs despite himself. “Not the first time.”
“Really?” Yael says, shifting toward him. “You don’t sound English to me at all. Too… melodic. English accents are boring in comparison.”
Ravi hums, knocking his knee into hers. “I’m glad I don’t bore you.”
Yael barks out a laugh. “You make me feel a lot of things, and bored isn’t one of them,” she says. Ravi’s tempted to ask for an ordered list, but she continues, “Anyway, Charlie romanticizes every beautiful man he meets a little too much. Have you seenHe’s Just Not That Into You?” Ravi shakes his head. “Oh, well, this won’t mean anything to you, but he’s kind of a Gigi Phillips. I guess what I’m trying to say is that thinking about it from your perspective, even though it was cowardly, it’s a lot harder to be as angry at you about it. Which is why I didn’t want to think about it from your perspective.”
