Page 150 of Last First Kiss

“This isn’t about them,” he says.

“Yeah?” Jamie says hoarsely. “Who is this about?”

“Us. If there even is an us. If there ever was.”

Jamie stares at him, glassy-eyed, mouth open. Words never make it out.

“Hey, Jordan, we need to get things rolling and Amy’s not—”

Javi stops short in front of them. His eyes trace back and forth.

Jamie sniffs, dragging the sleeve of his jacket across his nose. Jordan drops his arms, iPad still in one hand, shoulders tight.

Javi raises an eyebrow, pivoting to Jordan. “Mierda, is this about the other night? Our kiss?”

And Jordan’s almost certainthishas happened in one of those Bridget Jones movies.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“The… what?” Jamie croaks.

“Oh.” Javi’s face goes scarily pale. “Never mind. Forget I—I’ll just go set up for the speeches.”

He runs back toward the tent. Disappears like he was never there. Too bad that doesn’t undo what he’s said.

Time slows. Jordan’s forced to watch as the shock, misery, and hurt unfold across Jamie’s face at half speed.

Jordan cautiously steps forward. “It’s not what you think.”

Jamie lurches away. “Isn’t it? Tell me, Jordan, what am I thinking?” He wrecks his hair with one hand. “Since my parents are so bad at knowing what’s best for me, tell me what I think about youkissinganother man.”

Jordan can’t. His brain has already made a wrong left turn, so his mouth spits out, “You’ve been dating Sloane.”

“Hanging out,” Jamie corrects. “And you know the fuck why.”

“Am I just supposed to be okay with it?”

“Why did you come to my apartment that day?” Jamie bites out.

“You were sick.”

“Is that all?” Jamie throws up his hands. “Or were you trying to see how you felt about me? Did you want to know if kissing me was as good as kissing him?”

“No. It wasn’t.”

Jamie laughs humorlessly. “Wow. Youdidcompare us.”

“No! That’s not what I—” Jordan can feel himself cracking. His voice. His resolve. The armor of perfection and being great and never letting anyone leave him behind again.

“Why do you care what’s happening in my life?” Jamie inquires. “Why do I matter so much?”

Jordan stares and stares at Jamie, his eyes stinging, chest heavy. After all this time, he still can’t put it into words. He can’t explain why or what Jamie means to him. That he’s never felt like this for another man. Maybe not for anyone.

He can’t figure out how to tell Jamie that he wishes hedidn’tfeel this way. That he wishes there was an easy answer to everything. But there isn’t.

So Jordan’s left blinking, speechless.

Jamie lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I think,” he tries. “I think you need to get out more. Date more. See if that helps. Do things that make you happy and less…” he trails off.