Friends

Chapter 55

A/N: The Book is FINISHED! Read the entirety of it on my Patreon along with other exclusive content if you want to check those out!

Jasmine's POV:

I hate men.

I will never understand men. How the hell is your best friend coming into town and you don't ask when he's coming? I just feel like that's the first question you should ask. When Nya told me she was visiting, the first thing I asked was, "When?"

Now I feel like I've been ambushed into meeting Jaylin. Not to mention, I wanted to go on a cute little double date—but Nya and Jaylin insisted on interrogating us one-on-one. So while Nya is probably questioning Marc to death at a boba spot, I'm sitting across from Jaylin at this coffee shop.

Ironically, Jaylin and I both love coffee, while Nya and Marc hate it and insisted on getting boba. Honestly, this is not what I expected.

Jaylin is freakishly tall—like 6'4, skinny, with an afro. He looks like the cinnamon stick from the Apple Jacks commercials. The complete opposite of Marc, who's 5'9, muscular, and has waves.

"So, how was your flight from California?" I ask, trying to ease into the conversation.

"Let's cut the shit, Jasmine. What are your intentions with Marc?" Jaylin asks bluntly, his eyes narrowing.

Whoa. That was a little aggressive. My spine stiffens before I can stop it. The air around us shifts, sharp and sudden, like I just got hit with a pop quiz I didn't study for. This wasn't just protective big-brother energy—this was a cross-examination. And I'm not even sure what answer would pass.

"Um, I mean I really like—" I start, stumbling through the shock.

"I'm playing with you! My flight was good," Jaylin says, bursting out laughing.

Now this is more Marc-coded. Everything is a joke to them.

I let out a chuckle—honestly more relief than anything. "I'm glad. He didn't even tell me you were going to be here this weekend," I say, shaking my head.

"That sounds like Marc," Jaylin replies, his voice booming with amusement.

He leans in slightly, tone shifting. "Marc is my best friend. And I do want the best for him. So tell me—what do you like about Marc?"

His demeanor changes. He's still smiling, but there's a sharpness behind it now. Like he's studying me. Waiting for a red flag.

"There's a lot I can say to that, but one of my favorite things is how I feel safe with him," I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. "I can be myself and not be judged. I feel loved. And I've never had that with anyone else—not even my own parents."

Jaylin's smile fades instantly. His expression hardens, like I triggered something I didn't even see coming.

Did I say something wrong? My heart skips a beat. I replay my words in my head, searching for where I went off track. Was it the part about feeling safe? About my parents? I thought I was being honest—vulnerable even. But maybe that kind of truth doesn't land the way I think it will. Maybe that was too much too soon. Or maybe... it just wasn't the right answer for someone like Jaylin, who looks like he measures people's worth with a ruler I've never seen before.

"That's not what you like about him. That has nothing to do with him—that has everything to do with you," Jaylin says firmly, leaning back in his seat.

I blink, confused. "I'm not understanding what you're getting at."

"You said he makes you feel safe. That's what he does for you. That's not what you like about him. It's what he does that you like," he explains, his voice calm but edged.

"I get what you're saying, but that's not it," I say, sitting up straighter. "He makes me feel safe because of who he is. He's not judgmental. He's open-minded. He's caring. It's those qualities—those parts of him—that make me feel safe. It's who he is as a person."

Jaylin's smile returns, a little softer now. He nods. "That makes sense. My apologies for assuming. I'm just very protective. He's like a little brother to me. He hasn't really liked anyone since Maria. It's always been casual with other women. You're the first woman since her."

This feels like the perfect time to get to know more about Marc.

"So how did you two meet?" I ask, curiosity rising.

"We met at a comedy club, actually," Jaylin says, leaning back with a nostalgic grin. "It was almost like the universe was telling us we were meant to be best friends. We moved to Atlanta around the same time, went to our first comedy club the same night—and there are so many comedy clubs in Atlanta. The fact that we both chose the same one on the exact same day? Wild. He approached me. Said he'd just moved to Atlanta. I didn't have the balls to approach him, but we just kind of chatted from there and the rest is history."

Marc did stand-up comedy? I had no idea. I wonder what else I don't know about him.

"I had no idea he did stand-up," I say, genuinely surprised.

"He doesn't do it as much anymore. Well, to be honest, I don't know if he ever does now that I moved to California. I know he's more focused on social media now. But once again—this isn't about Marc. This is about you. Why Marc? You're a university pharmacy student. I'm sure you have lots of guys hitting on you. Why him?" Jaylin asks, locking eyes with me.

That's a tough question. I've never really thought about it like that. It just... felt right from the jump.

"I'm gonna be honest with you," I begin, pausing to gather my thoughts. "I haven't really taken interest in other men. I'm sure there have been guys who hit on me that I didn't notice. But for me, I've only been with one other person—as you know, Kendrick. So it's not like, 'Oh, I have all these options and I'm choosing Marc.' It's that I decided to move on from my first love, and I'm choosing Marc."

I take a breath before continuing.

"And if I'm being honest, I used to compare every guy to Kendrick. I was repulsed by anyone who wasn't him. I convinced myself I didn't like muscles because Kendrick was skinny. I convinced myself I didn't like short hair because his was long and curly. And even though my feelings for him faded with time and all the toxicity we went through, I still couldn't look at other men the same," I explain.

"Except for Marc," I continue. "I don't know why, but he was always the exception. I know it sounds cheesy, but even before we became roommates, I had a crush on him. No one else. Not even celebrities. And I'm aware Marc isn't a celebrity, but just hearing him talk, following him online—it was always like, 'Wow, maybe in another universe, we're dating.' Crazy enough, somehow, some way, the universe heard me. And we ended up as roommates," I say with a small laugh.

"And even though we didn't really talk that often—maybe just a few small exchanges, never a real conversation until recently—when we finally did talk, it just confirmed everything," I finish, letting the silence settle between us.

Jaylin watches me for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Jasmine," he says finally, his tone a bit cooler. "That was really sweet. And a part of me really believes that. But the other part? The part that's not as forgiving as Marc? I can't just look past you hooking up with Kendrick behind his back and lying about it. I honestly don't believe that was the first time you did it behind his back. Just the first time you felt bad about it."

His voice is calm, but the judgment in it slices clean through the air. There's no sugarcoating, no easing into it—just a blunt edge of honesty sharpened by loyalty. It stings, not because he's wrong, but because somewhere deep down, I knew this moment was coming. That someone in Marc's life would say what he won't.