We all start cracking up, and when the laughing dies down, we lean over to give Florence a hug. I’m so proud of Florence for coming out, and of Jess and Nancy for being so cool with it. Jay walks over from his table as we’re hugging and looks at us, amused.

“What are you guys doing?” he asks.

The girls pull away and say hi. Jay leans over and whispers, “Hi, babe.” I put a hand on his arm, pulling him close. As he gives me a slow, lingering kiss, I feel my insecurities melting. Maybe the girls are right. Maybe I’m overthinking what happened last night.

“I’ll see you later at my house for dinner?” he asks.

I nod.

“Good, because I’m cooking,” he says.

My friends go “aww” as Jay walks away.

Jay’s in the kitchen making caramelized carrots when I walk in. A beautiful roast chicken sits on the counter.

“What’s the special occasion?” I ask, gasping at the chicken. I pose in front of it with my phone and try to take a selfie. The smell brings me straight back to my grandmother’s kitchen in Shanghai.

“No reason. Just wanted to do something nice for my gorgeous, brilliant girlfriend.” He smiles.

He leans over, kisses me, and takes my phone from me so he can take a proper picture of me with the chicken. When he’s done taking my pic, he doesn’t give me back my phone. Instead, he starts browsing my camera roll.

“Hey, give that back,” I protest.

He laughs, tapping on an album called “Childhood Photos.”

“Was this you when you were a kid?” he asks. He shows me the pic. I cringe. It’s one of the few pictures of me with my old eyes. I was about seven.

He studies my face. “You look so different,” he says. “You better not have gotten plastic surgery. I don’t want ugly kids when we get married,” he teases.

I snatch the phone away from him. “Give me that,” I say. “And who said anything about marriage?”

Jay blushes slightly.

“I want my wife to be a virgin,” he says, setting the table. “My mom was a virgin when my dad met her. She’s never slept with anyone else.”

“How do you even know that about her?” I ask, fascinated and low-key disturbed.

“They met when they were seventeen.” Jay shrugs. “Exact same age as us.”

My phone dings.

“Who’s that?” Jay asks. “Is it Dani?”

When I don’t reply, his face clouds over with worry.

“I don’t like that girl. Don’t trust a word she says.”

I chuckle. “Why? What’s she got on you?” I’m only teasing, but he gets upset.

“Nothing! I’m so good! I didn’t even make you finish yesterday!”