Page 141 of Last First Kiss
Jordan needs someone else. Someone who can relate more.
On the fourth ring, the video pops up.
There he is. Braylon Adams in an office, late-afternoon California sun giving his already honey-brown skin extra glow. His tight curls are trimmed, his artfully handsome face recently shaven.
“Jordan?” His light British accent is warm even as his voice is confused. “Did you mean to call Denz?”
“Uh, no.” Jordan hesitates. “I wanted to call you. To talk about… something.”
“Me?”
A pause. Jordan can see Braylon thinking. Out of nowhere, his eyes grow cartoonishly wide.
“Oh no. Something’s wrong. Is it Mom? Is she okay?”
“No, no,” Jordan says quickly when Braylon starts to panic.
Denz once told Jordan about what happened with Braylon’s parents. How his mom died young from cancer. And his dad had an aneurysm, passing away in his sleep years ago, while Braylon lived in London. It’s the reason he’s so close to the Carters now. He finally has a family again after losing his before turning twenty-five.
“Auntie Leena’s fine,” Jordan assures.
On screen, Braylon slowly comes back to himself. He nods once.
“Sorry.” He wipes a hand down his face. “Thought I was getting better at not imagining worst-case scenarios. Can’t wait to tell my therapist about this next week.”
Jordan smiles. “Do you plan to mention the part where you refer to Auntie Leena as Mom now?”
Red tints Braylon’s cheeks. “Well. I mean. That’s a discussion for another day, innit?”
“Should we start ring shopping soon?”
“Me, marry your asshole of a cousin? Don’t be delusional.”
“Says the guy who ‘fake-dated’ him even though you were both still stupidly in love but couldn’t find an easier way to tell each other?”
Braylon’s face turns a darker red. “Are you quite finished?”
Jordan leans back on his sofa with a wide grin.
“You’re deflecting, Jordan,” Braylon points out. “What’s wrong?”
That erases the grin faster than Jordan anticipated. He chews nervously on his bottom lip.
There isn’t anythingwrong, per se. The wedding’s on track. Things with Javi are normal again—their version of it, at least.
Jamie’s not sick anymore.…
Jordan paid him another visit the other day. Aworkvisit this time. Amy tasked Jamie with reviewing her final three choices for reception centerpieces.
Naturally, Jamie needed Jordan’s opinion.
They spent the afternoon arguing over roses or orchids. Smiling as they cleaned Jamie’s apartment. Finishing the leftover soup on the green sofa, legs twined together.
They spent the evening in Jamie’s bed. Clothes removed. Sharing an orange Jordan peeled after dinner.
“Vitamin C boosts immunity,” he told Jamie while feeding him a slice.
Jamie licked the juice from Jordan’s fingertips. Followed the sweet trail down Jordan’s palm, over his wrist. He kissed Jordan, mouth sticky, tongue eager.
