Page 38 of Last First Kiss

With Jamie Peters across from him.

A feast is spread out in front of Jamie. He wasn’t joking about being hungry. There’s something from almost every section of See You Spoon’s menu. A veggie omelet and chicken fingers and sweet potato fries and two waffles and a Texas burger. Oh, and a slice of house-made apple pie.

Jordan would be intensely worried about Jamie’s stomach if he didn’t know him. If he hadn’t seen Jamie put away more during summer sleepovers at Denz’s house.

Not that Jordan even knows if this is the same Jamie from then. They don’t hang out like that anymore.

Another thing Jordan didn’t expect tonight: receiving a random text from Jamie in the middle of Mayor Tiffany Reynold’s annual Valentine’s Day gala. An invitation. To meet for pie.

Just the two of them.

He’s still trying to figure out what that warm feeling in his gut was when he read Jamie’s message. Probably that second glass of champagne he downed earlier. 24 Carter Gold events are a lot. Being Kami’s assistant is a lot. Being Kami’s assistant while she’s in the middle of a competition to become the next CEO of her dad’s company and competing against her brother is a lot.

The open bars and free booze help.

Jordan looks up from his half-eaten slice. Jamie’s barreling through a syrup-soaked waffle. Pink from the diner’s multiple neon signs spills through his wrecked brown hair, along his dark, unshaven jaw.TWIST-N-SALTsplashes in white letters across his black T-shirt, the cotton stretched by his broad shoulders and toned chest.

He looks good.

Somewhere between an adrenaline high from a long shift and sleepy-soft like he’d get at 2AMafter too many rounds ofMario Kart.

Heat pools in Jordan’s belly again. He shoves a forkful of pie in his mouth. Clearly, he’s still half tipsy.

“Good?” Jamie asks after swallowing.

“Not bad,” Jordan says with a shrug.

“Not bad?” Jamie’s face twists. “This is the best pie in Atlanta. In the entire Southeast.”

Jordan takes another bite. “Don’t let Auntie Leena hear you say that.”

Red floods Jamie’s cheeks. “You’re right. Second best.”

“An acceptable runner-up.”

Jamie raises a forkful of pie. “Cheers to great desserts.”

Jordan shakes his head before clinking their forks. He smileshelplessly. Jamie is wearing this stupid, self-satisfied grin, and Jordan can’t tell if it’s because he admitted the pie is great or because Jamie’s just happy Jordan’s here.

Since he graduated from UCLA and returned to Atlanta, his friendship with Jamie hasn’t quite been what it was when they were teens. They see each other on occasion. Mostly during the Carter family holiday gatherings. It’s rare for Jamie to miss one. But there’s no more summertime sleepovers in Denz’s old bedroom, obviously.

Because they’re adults. And, like, well…

But Jordan’s been to the apartment Jamie shares with Denz. A few times. Only when Denz needs him for something, like rearranging his bedroom.

Never to hang out and play video games with Jamie.

Sheepishly, Jamie says, “Sorry for interrupting your Valentine’s plans.”

Jordan snorts. “You didn’t.”

When Jamie texted him, Jordan was wrapping up at the mayor’s gala. As entertaining as watching Denz squirm while their family interrogated him about his (secretly fake) relationship with Braylon was, this is better. In spite of the diner’s questionable music choices.

John Mayer’s “Your Body Is a Wonderland” kicks in as Jamie chokes out, “Wait, you had plans? With someone?”

“No,” Jordan blurts, grimacing. “I mean, you didn’t interruptanything. With anyone. Just work. Which I was done with.”

“Oh, right. The mayor’s thing.”