Page 143 of Last First Kiss

Braylon beams. “She told me. Have you seen the facility yet?”

“It’s… amazing.”

Even though he spent most of his time planning and working out logistics, Jordan couldn’t help but absorb the cozy atmosphere. Everything about it, from the furniture to the colors, felt like a home. A sanctuary.

He looks forward to going back.

“And you got on with Whit?” Braylon says.

Jordan grimaces. “She’s kinda scary.”

“Quite,” Braylon agrees wistfully. “Fuck, I miss her.”

He goes on about his first day at the center. He and Whit started together. True to form, she made their trainer cry on the third day. Braylon mentions the dreaded espresso machine, whichmakes Jordan cackle. Then his voice goes soft as he describes what originally drew him to Skye—wanting to build more visibility for the kind of place he needed when he was still discovering himself.

Jordan takes that as a sign from the universe to segue into the topic he really wants to ask Braylon about.

“So.” He rubs the back of his head. “Denz mentioned you weren’t out when you two first met?”

“I wasn’t.”

“And, like, it took you a minute? To come out?”

Slowly, the corners of Braylon’s mouth rise. As if he knows where this is going. “It did,” he affirms.

“Did you always know you were—” Jordan hesitates.

“That I was gay?”

“Y-yeah.”

Braylon shrugs. “Mostly.”

Jordan sinks lower on the sofa.

Secretly, he was hoping for a different answer. That Braylon wasn’t like Denz or Jamie or everyone else. That Jordan wasn’t alone in… whatever he’s working through.

Lately, he’s felt more and more like that checkbox meme all over the internet. Except his looks like this:

?Single

?Taken

?Currently going through an existential crisis about my identity because everyone expects me to immediately know and then come out if I’m anything other than their definition of straight

Instead of unloading all that, Jordan says, “Oh.”

“But I didn’t come out to be with Denz,” Braylon quickly adds. “If I’m being honest, I took quite a bit of time because—” He pauses, eyebrows lowering. “Because I was so worried whatthe worldthought of me.”

Jordan stares at him, head tilted.

“I was a great swimmer. A hard worker. The son of a doctor. And gay,” Braylon says. “I let everyone else decide what that last part meant to me.”

“Oh,” Jordan repeats, softer.

“Then I met your cousin.” Fondness stretches over Braylon’s expression. “He was so intense. Unapologetically so. That confident little fucker.”

Jordan laughs loudly.