Page 140 of Last First Kiss
“Jamie, I’ve never—”
“Me neither.”
He squints at Jamie’s wry smirk, but in his eyes, Jordan reads the honesty. It meant something for each of them. Even if they can’t say it out loud.
After, Jordan rolls Jamie onto the other side of the bed. He cleans them up with a fresh towel. Tugs on his boxers before staggering into the kitchen. He returns with more ibuprofen, two nighttime cold pills, and a cool glass of water.
Jamie smiles timidly at him as he takes them.
Jordan dresses but doesn’t leave just yet. He climbs back onto the bed. Jamie cuddles him. Jordan curls an arm around his bare shoulders. He waits for sleep to take Jamie under.
Before it does, Jamie mumbles, “It’s my turn again.”
A faint grin curls Jordan’s lips. “Technically, it’smyturn.”
“Rules are overrated. So are traditions.”
“Fine,” Jordan says, unwilling to argue. It’d be unfair for himto win against a sick man. “Tell me something no one else knows. Not even Denz.”
Jamie yawns, his eyes blinking shut. “I’ve never stopped thinking about our first kiss.”
Jordan freezes. His mouth opens but nothing comes out.
Drowsily, Jamie continues: “I’ve been chasing that feeling for years. Ever since it happened. It’s one of the reasons why”—he yawns again, snuffling into Jordan’s chest—“why I never stay in relationships.”
His left hand slides up Jordan’s chest. He can probably feel how erratic Jordan’s heartbeat is.
“No one’s made me feel like that,” Jamie murmurs.
Jordan stares down at him. The soft, dreamy expression on his face.
Into the linen of Jordan’s shirt, Jamie whispers, “I’m tired of chasing that feeling when…”
He doesn’t finish.
Breath held, Jordan waits. His brain fires in ten thousand directions. But the rest never comes.
Jamie’s asleep, lips pulled into that crooked grin.
And Jordan—
He watches over Jamie, finally remembering to breathe. As the clouds begin to break outside the window, Jordan smiles too.
Jordandoesn’tcatch Jamie’s flu, thank you, science.
He has, however, caught something else. Something he can’t see his regular physician for. Something that has him anxious and hopeful and a little scared too.
It’s an awful combination. One he can’t shake despite how bad he needs to. Which is why he’s spending a Friday night sitting on the edge of his sofa, staring impatiently at his phone screen as FaceTime dials.
His first instinct was to call Yazzie. They still talk. Every six months or so, they have at least an hour-long catch-up session.
She’s married now. Some sweet-faced, brown-skinned physiotherapist she met at the University of Miami. They have a two-year-old daughter with another baby on the way.
As much as Jordan loves Yazzie and her unfiltered honesty, though, he’s not sure she can help.
His next choice was Denz, but…
No, not yet. He knows his cousin will be thoughtful and considerate. It’s just that—
