Friends

Chapter 20

Marc's POV:

"Let me get this straight—you feel safe with me, so we can't have sex?" Jasmine asks, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes! Wait—yes and no..." I stumble over my words, trying to focus while my body betrays me. "It's just—it's really hard to have a serious conversation with an erection. Give me like five minutes, okay? I'll be right back," I say, quickly getting up and heading toward my room.

Once inside, I walk past my bathroom and into the furthest corner of my closet, as far away from Jasmine as I can manage. I need space to think. I need a voice of reason. All the blood that should be helping me think is somewhere else entirely, and I'm too flustered to figure this out on my own.

I grab my phone and dial Jaylin. He picks up after a couple of rings.

"What's good, fam?" he says, his tone casual.

"Fam," I whisper-yell, trying to keep my voice low, "Jasmine and I just finished making out, she tried to suck my dick, I stopped her, and then I tried to go down on her! What do I do?"

There's silence for a beat. Then, his tone changes completely, now filled with concern and confusion.

"You what?"

"Fam, Jasmine and I just—"

"You don't need to repeat yourself, numb nuts. I heard you the first time," he interrupts.

"So what do I do?"

Jaylin sighs. "Let me get this straight: I told you to keep it in your pants, you ignored me, and now you're asking me for help?"

"I did keep it in my pants!" I insist. "I just told you—she tried to suck my dick, and I told her no!"

"Uh-huh. And was that before or after y'all were swapping spit?"

"Look, I'm not perfect, okay? We don't have time for this! I just want to go back in there and not make things awkward!"

"Just apologize," Jaylin says, clearly exasperated. "Tell her you got carried away and that you're sorry. Keep it simple."

"You're right," I say, nodding to myself. "I'll just pretend like nothing happened, and if she brings it up, I'll gaslight her."

"That's the worst thing I've ever heard in my entire life," he replies, his tone flat. I can practically feel him rolling his eyes through the phone.

Before he can say anything else, I hang up.

"Can you hurry up?" Jasmine yells from the living room, her voice tinged with impatience.

"I'm coming!" I yell back.

"Do you need some help with that?" Jasmine calls out, her laughter echoing from the living room.

I pause for a moment. Maybe I'm overreacting. She seems relaxed, cracking jokes like nothing's wrong. But then again, one thing we have in common is using humor to deflect when things get uncomfortable. No point in overthinking it. I'll just go out there and play it cool.

I step out of my room and spot her lounging on the couch, a sly smirk on her face, waiting for me.

"You've got jokes," I retort, shaking my head, which only makes her burst into laughter.

I take a seat next to her, settling into the cushion with a sigh.

"I want to talk about something serious," I start, my tone soft but firm. "It's about us. I need you to understand—if we were to take things further, it wouldn't be fair to either of us unless you're fully over Kendrick. Because if you're not, it doesn't matter how good things are between us. The second you let him back into your life, what we have would be over."