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“Mmm.” She looked over at the guys. When she turned back at me, her expression had steeled. “Ryan’s very skittish.”
“This is the warning off part, isn’t it?”
Her lips smiled, but her eyes stayed focused. “Yeah. So listen. Ryan hasn’t dated anyone real since I’ve known him. He does long term, high-profile flings. It’s messed up. But he does not do dinner at his house. He certainly never does dishes with anyone.”
How had that got out? Wait, that was not the top of my list. “Ryan doesn’t even like me.”
She gave me a withering look. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Right. “Being attracted to someone isn’t the same as liking them.”
She outright laughed. “You’re not his type. If he’s attracted to you, it’s not for your looks.”
That just brought my self-esteem to a whole new level, coming from a stunning model-actress.
She tilted her head. “In fact, I bet it’s because you’re different. You seem very—artsy. Academic.”
“And that appeals to football players?” I asked dryly.
She shook her head. “Ryan’s a great guy.” Somehow her words came out doubtfully. “And it’s not that he isn’t a wonderful player, he’s a dual-threat for God’s sake, it’s just...” She trailed off, frowning slightly. I frowned back at her. I didn’t know what a dual-threat meant. I knew a triple-threat: a person who could act, sing, and dance, but I was pretty sure Briana wasn’t referring to Ryan’s Broadway talents.
“It’s not his entire world.” She picked her words carefully. “Some of the guys, you can’t imagine them doing anything else, but Ryan... Sometimes I think he could have done anything. Maybe that’s why he likes you, because you’re something different.”
“Well that’s quite a recommendation.” I had no idea how to interpret being “something different.”
“He’s Malcolm’s best friend. I want him to be happy.”
I nodded. “Okay. Well. I’ll be sure to send you the newsletter with my love life report.”
She laughed again, and Malcolm stepped in. “Something funny?”
“Always,” She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. In heels and with an inch or so of hair, she almost met his height. “Ryan caught himself a live one.”
Malcolm smiled. One hand twisted in his pocket, like he was turning over a box.
When everyone left, I stayed behind to clear the table again. “Briana thinks it’s weird that we do the dishes together.”
“Oh?” Ryan took a stack of plates from me. “What about you?”
“I think everything’s weird, remember?”
“It’s because you’re weird. It skews your perception of things.”
Across the room, my phone buzzed. Due to my awful, insidious curiosity about ringing phones, I lunged for it, and frowned at the caller ID. Why was my brother calling at eleven on a Friday? “Sorry. One sec.” I took the call, pacing across the floor and dropping onto the couch directly before the window. “Hey, David.”
“Rachael! What’s up?”
“Oh, just finishing dinner. You?”
There was a pause. “I wanted to talk to you for a sec.”
Great. Ryan raised a brow, and I waved him away. “Sure. What’s up?”
“So...you’re coming home for Rosh Hashanah, right?”
It drove me nuts when he asked things like that. I knew I was being irrational, since he wasn’t actually checking; it was simply his manner of broaching the topic. Still, it bothered me that he questioned whether I would come home for the holiday. “Of course. I’m coming in Thursday, and staying all weekend.”
“And you’re bringing your boyfriend?”
