Page 12 of A Brush with Love
HARPER
Harper wondered which was the best way to request they eat at different tables. It was either that or rub her face against the deli slicer to put an end to the torture. Those were the only two solutions she could think of that would save her heart from the lethal dose of adrenaline and estrogen that pumped through her every time Dan said something. Or looked at her. Or blinked, for fuck’s sake.
She went into rationalization mode: So she had a crush. A huge, throbbing, gut-punch crush. Big deal. Crushes were fine. Crushes could becrushed downwith enough willpower and mental stamina. She had those two things in spades. For example, she’d shown an exorbitant amount of willpower when she hadn’t run her teeth over Dan’s forearm like a feral animal while he shook Martin’s hand.
As Dan sauntered toward the table with drinks—of course he sauntered, heaven forbid he walk like a normal human instead of each step being adjacent to soft-core porn—Harper readied her nerves. She could do this. She could sit and have a normal conversation with him. She had years of pretending like everything was fine while anxiety melted her insides to pieces.
He sat, and she handed over his sandwich.
“Are you a religious man, Dan?” Harper asked, before releasing her grip on the food.
“Not particularly,” he replied with a wary look. “Why?”
“Because that first bite is going to be a spiritual experience.”
“Yeah?” He started unwrapping the sandwich.
“Just your typical soul ascension. Heavens parting. Angels singing. Nothing too dramatic. I don’t want to oversell it.”
Dan laughed, and she smiled back at him. A comfortable rhythm was settling between them, and her heartbeat was returning to an almost human level. Even her lusty sweats were drying. She couldsodo this. Her chances of surviving the night without a heart attack were increasing every second.
And then he took a bite of the sandwich.
And moaned.
A gritty, masculine, overtly sexual moan of pleasure.
Her underwear lit itself on fire, and her palms vibrated against the table. Harper was, once again, anything but comfortable.
“This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had,” Dan said through a mouthful of pastrami, totally oblivious to Harper’s physical crisis. “You drastically undersold it. This place is incredible.”
He took another bite, closing his eyes in enjoyment. She wanted to lick a stray crumb off his lip.
“One of my favorites,” she said, unwrapping her own sandwich with shaky hands. “Martin’s a little coarse, but besides that, the place is perfect.”
Dan stopped mid-chew to stare at her. “A little coarse? Harper, he’s like sandpaper.”
Harper laughed around a bite of food, and a charming shower of crumbs landed on the table.Godfuckingdammit.
Dan’s smile was huge as he handed her a napkin.
“He seems to really adore you,princess,” he teased, and Harper rolled her eyes. “You said he knows your rabbi. Do you go to temple with him or anything like that?”
Harper shook her head, swallowing the bite of food and covering her mouth with an attempt at a dainty hand. “Martin and his wife have me over for dinner sometimes, but I don’t go to temple that often—the High Holidays mainly. I should be better about it but…” She shrugged. She only had so many hours in a day, and 90 percent of them were dedicated to school. Or being anxious about school. “It’s something I feel connected to without having to go every week. My friends and I try to go to Shabbat at the Jewish Student Center as often as we can, though.”
“What’s Shabbat?”
“The Jewish Sabbath. It’s from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday. It’s a time for rest and reflection—no work, no chores, no technology. It’s common to have a big dinner on Friday nights with certain rituals to remind us of the covenant. That’s what I go to.”
Harper took a sip of her soda. “The one at school is pretty low-key. My friends aren’t even Jewish, but I think they like having the time to step back and reflect… and the wine and free meal don’t hurt. But I like to be as plugged in to the community as I can, with what little free time school offers. It helps me, I think.”
Dan watched her thoughtfully, and Harper pressed her lips together. A small knot formed at the back of her throat, and she tried to swallow past it. She usually guarded personal artifacts like that, and her center felt jolted at how easily it slipped out. She looked down at her food.
“Do you mind if I ask you to elaborate on that?” Dan asked.
She chewed on her lip. This was feeling a little too real. A little too personal. Harper’s friends teased her about being guarded, but she viewed it as self-preservation. Walls were good. Walls were safe. Walls offered protection when her anxiety made it feel like the world was falling apart and her body was quickly dying.
She looked back at Dan. His green eyes were filled with soft encouragement. She thought of the vulnerable way he’d trustedher in lab, and felt herself remove one brick from her wall, just wide enough to stick her hand through.
