Page 60 of Last First Kiss

There isn’t. Jordan has on a striped linen polo shirt with simple navy trousers. Fine, each pant leg has a sharp crease in it. But this is technically still work. He’s not gonna be caught wearing shoes made from weird resin material.

At least, not in public.

“Wow,” Jamie says. “You’re actually shoe-shaming me right now.”

“I am not—”

“I expected this from Auntie Eva,” Jamie interrupts. “Maybe Nic. But not you, Jordan Carter. Never you. Betrayed on cake-tasting day.”

He pretends to look devastated.

Jordan crosses his arms, unimpressed. But the corners of his mouth twitch.

Amy leans between them. “Do you two need a moment? Should I leave?”

The back of Jordan’s neck prickles. No, he most certainly doesnotneed a moment alone with Jamie.

“Nope, we’re done,” Jamie answers for them both. He thrusts one of his cups in Jordan’s direction. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“A smoothie.”

“We made a bet on which you’d prefer,” Amy inserts, also offering one of her cups to Jordan. “Toffee nut latte. You don’t seem like a caramel guy. Or plain, boring vanilla.”

Jordan grins. “You’re correct.” He hesitates, staring down at her cup. “Thank you, but I’ll… pass.”

Instantly, Amy’s face falls.

Jamie—very carefully—fist-pumps. “I told you!” he boasts. “Jordan hates coffee. Smoothies are his preferred wake-me-up beverage.”

He eases the Styrofoam cup into Jordan’s open hand. Their fingers brush. Heat crowds into Jordan’s cheeks. It’s a particularly hot summer morning. That’s the only explanation.

Jordan squeezes the cup. Jamie had thought of him. He remembered Jordan’s never been a fan of coffee, no matter how many variations he’s tried. Jamie paid attention every time Jordan skipped a coffee shop in favor of a smoothie bar.

His stomach flips. Just a smidge.

“I can’t believe this,” Amy hisses.

“You owe me lunch,” Jamie tells her.

“Whatever.”

“Blueberry, banana, pineapple, and peanut butter,” Jamie says when Jordan takes a tentative sip.

It’s a ridiculous combination. And fuckinggood. Jordan’s going to expire right here on the hot sidewalk.

RIP, future events manager Jordan, you would’ve loved this smoothie.

Absently, Jordan exhales a soft moan.

The left side of Jamie’s mouth rises. “Amazing?”

Jordan swallows, not answering.

“Better than late-night diner pie?” Jamie prods.

Fuck, Jordan can’t handle that crooked grin and this delicious smoothie and memories of their feet tangled under a sticky diner table all at once.