Jourdan moves in front of me, and I get it. Why Darren left the house before their dates with a nervous but excited air surrounding him — much like the cloud I’ve been in all day. I get why he would sometimes pace around the room, trying to use up some of that energy, only to come back as if there was nothing but pure lightning in his veins. I don’t know what it is, but even after just a few seconds in her presence, I can see what he saw in her.

What we’d hoped we’d see in someone.

“I mean, unless you’re allergic to seafood. Fuck,” she says, eyes wide and her hands tight around my forearms. “Are you allergic to seafood?”

I like the way her eyes widen with worry. Her grip on me. Her pretty purple-painted mouth. I like Jourdan, and not just through the computer screen or in her text messages. I can feel the reins loosening from whatever we’d been building online, confined through our laptop and phone screens. It was great, but now that we’re standing in front of one another, the possibilities for the future feel expansive.

“You’re amazing,” I breathe.

“Obviously. But are you allergic to seafood?” she asks.

I don’t answer fast enough.

She keeps one hand on me and pulls her phone from the fanny pack thrown over her torso. The phone rings on speaker, and then I hear my husband’s voice.

“She’s on her way,” he says instead of hello.

Jourdan laughs. “Don’t worry. I have her.”

Her eyes shift to mine because she feels the shiver that runs through me at those words.

“Is she allergic to shellfish?” Jourdan asks.

Darren is at a loss for words. “I didn’t expect that question,” he finally manages.

“And I didn’t expect that to be the reason I called you,” she says, whispering those words. I think whatever reason she was hoping to concoct to call my husband was a thing they talked about, maybe a thing they whispered to one another while they got each other off, maybe the thing that got him so hard and hot he’d taken me in the kitchen while dinner was cooking.

It’s a possibility. It’s all a possibility.

“Is she okay?” Darren asks as if her question has finally registered to him.

“She’s fine, I think,” Jourdan says, “but she’s not saying much, and I just realized that I didn’t even think to ask if she was allergic to seafood or nuts or like…I don’t know. What are other things people are allergic to?”

Darren chuckles. He’s enjoying this. I’m never going to hear the end of this, I know. He’s kind, but he’s not oblivious. “Can you give her the phone?” he asks.