Part 20 - It Fits
The apartment smelled like cheap wine and microwave popcorn. Jordy sat on the couch with two of her friends, legs tucked under her, glass in hand. The TV played something none of them were watching.
"So," one of them said, topping off her drink, "why don't you just date that nurse friend of yours?"
"Deon?" Jordy laughed. "Nah. It'd be too weird."
"How so?"
"I don't know. Like dating myself or something."
"Do you not like yourself?"
"I love me."
"Then what's the problem? He's like you—but with all the fun opposite parts that fit your opposite parts."
Jordy rolled her eyes. "Back in college, we had a slip-up. It was a casual hang that turned into mind-blowing sex. For me, at least. I never told him how I felt. He never asked."
"Okay... then what?"
"I don't know, nothing happened. We woke up and went right back to being 'bros.'"
Her friend nearly choked on her drink. "He friend-zoned you? After tapping that? And it was good? You must've been sick."
"I was cool with it," Jordy said, shrugging. "It didn't feel wrong. It was just sex. Very good sex—but still just sex."
"Okay, so you smash and then... nothing?"
"Well, not nothing. We went to a lot of parties together—but not together, you know? If I didn't leave with another guy, I'd end up back in his room for pizza, games, and back shots. Good times."
"You don't sound like you miss it."
"Hard to miss something you still have."
Her friends froze.
"Wait—what?" one of them said, sitting up. "You're crying over your ex, but you've been cheating this whole time?"
Jordy smirked. "Nah. I don't see Deon when I'm with someone."
There was a pause.
"That supposed to make it better?"
Jordy laughed softly, draining the last of her wine. "No. Just honest."
"Idk, girl. Sounds like you're in love."
Jordy paused, swirling what was left in her glass. "I don't think that's it. He doesn't make my heart race. I don't get excited to see him. I don't feel that warmth spread across my body when he hugs me. None of the feel-good, tingly stuff."
Her friends exchanged a look.
"So how does it feel?"
"How to say it..." She thought for a moment. "It feels like getting into a bath that's the perfect temperature."
"What?"
"You know. You don't have to ease into it or test it by dipping a toe. You can just... sink in and enjoy."
"I kinda get it."
"It's not a great analogy," Jordy said with a small laugh. "It just feels... comfortable. He doesn't make fun of my outlandish ideas. Well, he does—but it's never mean-spirited. And sometimes he'll even hype up the idea."
She leaned back, smiling faintly. "He never forgets my birthday. And he's a dope gift giver—never misses. He listens. Like, really listens. I can talk for hours and when I finally stop, he'll repeat back what I said—like, word for word. He plays games with me, even the ones he hates. He compliments my cooking, even when it's bad."
"Girl, your cooking is MasterChef level."
"Well, he says it's good even when I think I messed it up. He doesn't judge me for my past. He's not a 'what have you done for me' type. He's a 'what can we do for each other' kinda dude, you know?"
Her friends looked at each other again. Jordy was grinning from ear to ear, completely unaware.
"Nope," one of them said flatly. "We absolutely don't."
Jordy hummed in quiet bliss.
"What you thinking about?"
She blushed slightly. "He came back a few nights ago, and I was at his house. Meal ready. Lingerie on."
"Wait—hold up. You mean the day you broke up with your ex, you were at another guy's house?"
"Yeah," Jordy admitted with a sheepish smile. "It sounds bad. Probably is. But it's a tradition. When I'm single, I like to play wife for him sometimes."
"Girl, your life is a movie."
"Some days."
"Hold on—you weren't wearing that cute lime green number from the other day, were you?"
"The very same."
"Oh, you meant business."
"Mhm. He didn't pounce on me immediately, though."
"What is he, a saint?"
"Far from it," Jordy said with a small smirk. "He just moves at his own pace."
"Details, girl. Details."
Jordy just smiled, lost in her own head, quietly reliving the memory.
Her friends both laughed.
"You're in love with at least one part of him."
"Mhm," she murmured absently.
"No shame in your game, huh?"
"Actually..." Jordy said, a slow grin forming as she reached for her phone, "I think I'm gonna text him."
She picked up her phone and started typing.
"Actually... never mind," she said, shaking her head. "It's not that deep. Y'all just got me in my thoughts, and the memories plus alcohol are creating the perfect storm."
She deleted the message and tossed her phone onto the couch.
"Or," one of her friends teased, "your nurse friend just got off a long shift, and wifey doesn't wanna ruin his relaxation with a booty call."
"Shut up," Jordy laughed. "Been there, done that anyway."
"Oh my god!"
They all burst out laughing, drinks spilling along with their secrets.
Later, when the laughter faded and her friends had gone home, Jordy found herself staring at her phone again—thumb hovering over his name.
She sent a message. "Hang tomorrow?"
Deon: I know you got a key. Pull up.