He closed the app and finally set his phone back down on the nightstand, making sure it was face-down so the screen wouldn’t light up with any more notifications that might wake Chloe up. The sudden quiet felt strange after all the digital fanfare, like stepping out of an arcade into a library.
Chloe shifted against him, her leg sliding higher up his thigh in a way that would have been distracting if he wasn’t already completely spent from their earlier activities. Her breath ghosted warm across his collarbone, and he could sll her shampoo, sothing fruity and expensive that probably cost more than his old grocery budget.
Jordan carefully adjusted his position to get more comfortable, using his newly enhanced balance and coordination to move without jostling her awake. The difference was imdiately noticeable. His body seed to know exactly how to shift his weight, which muscles to engage, how to slide across the sheets without making noise or disturbing the careful arrangent of limbs they’d settled into.
Okay fine. Maybe the disco thing isn’t completely useless after all. This could actually be pretty handy for sneaking around.
He wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist and pulled her closer, enjoying the way she automatically molded herself to his side like they’d been sleeping together for years instead of days. She made a soft, contented sound in her sleep and burrowed into his side like a cat seeking warmth, her hand splaying across his chest in a gesture that felt possessive and protective at the sa ti.
The System notification about registering a second girlfriend still sat unread in his ssages. Jordan could feel it there like a weight in his pocket, a problem waiting to explode if he ignored it too long. The seventy-two hour countdown had probably already started ticking away in the background, marking ti until he’d have to face the impossible conversation.
Seventy-two hours. That’s three days. Plenty of ti to figure out how to tell my girlfriend I need to start dating other girls because of my fake inheritance requirents that are actually just a cover story for a magical phone app that turns romance into a spreadsheet.
Yeah. That conversation’s going to go great. Right up there with "honey, I used to be a different person but I got better" and "by the way, I may or may not have supernatural dance powers now."
Jordan closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep. The System’s stamina refresh had left him wide awake despite the late hour and the exhaustion that should have followed dinner with parents and everything that ca after. His mind buzzed with too many thoughts, too many new variables to process all at once.
How does that even work anyway? Does the System just scan girls and calculate so kind of soulmate algorithm? Is it looking at personality traits or physical attraction or compatibility trics I don’t even know about?
The recomnded candidates list had been interesting. Kumiko made sense, she was sweet and pretty and had already shown interest in him during their brief interactions. Alexis was obviously gorgeous but ca with enough emotional baggage to fill a cargo plane. And Brooke was a complete mystery, the genius girl who barely spoke to anyone but sohow rated high enough for the System to notice.
The whole thing felt increasingly surreal. A month ago he’d been crying on his floor over Eliza, spending his days refreshing her social dia and wondering why she never texted him back. Now he had a girlfriend who actually liked him, supernatural dance skills, and a phone app pressuring him to build a harem like he was the protagonist of so shitty light novel his old roommate used to read.
At least the harem thing is kind of hot in theory. In practice it’s just going to be a nightmare of scheduling conflicts and hurt feelings and trying to rember who likes what kind of coffee.
Chloe’s hand flexed against his chest, her fingers curling into a fist before relaxing again. Jordan wondered what she was dreaming about. Whether she saw him in her dreams the way he was starting to see her in his, or if her subconscious was still processing the evening with his parents and all the subtle family dynamics she’d navigated so gracefully.
Sleep finally started creeping up on him despite the System’s artificial energy boost. His thoughts grew fuzzy and disconnected, drifting like clouds across his consciousness. The warmth of Chloe’s body against his, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the familiar weight of exhaustion settling into his bones.
The last thing Jordan rembered before sleep claid him was Chloe’s voice, soft and drowsy in the darkness.
"Love you."
His heart stopped.
She was asleep. Definitely asleep. Her breathing hadn’t changed, her body hadn’t tensed, and her voice had that particular quality that ca from talking without being fully conscious. Probably didn’t even know she’d said it, wouldn’t rember in the morning.
But she’d said it.
Jordan’s throat felt tight. His chest ached with sothing that wasn’t quite pain but wasn’t quite joy either. Sothing bigger and more complicated than either emotion could handle on its own.
Do I say it back? Does it count if she’s unconscious? Is this the right ti? We’ve only been dating for a week, that’s way too fast by anyone’s standards, but also I think I might actually an it if I said it, which is terrifying in ways I’m not ready to think about.
Chloe’s breathing stayed deep and even. Completely out, lost in whatever dream had prompted her sleepy confession.
Jordan chickened out and just held her tighter, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the scent of her shampoo and the lingering warmth from their shared shower earlier. The words sat heavy in his throat, unspoken but not unfelt.
Tomorrow. I’ll deal with all of it tomorrow. The System, the second slot, the confession, the dancing, all of it. Tonight I just want to hold my girlfriend and pretend like everything is normal.
He fell asleep to the scent of her shampoo and the warmth of her body pressed against his, and for the first ti in months, he didn’t dream about Eliza at all.
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