Page 80 of Last First Kiss
“Do you?” Jamie says.
“All the time,” Jordan whispers.
He hasn’t said that aloud to anyone. He’s barely admitted it to himself. But it’s true.
His world is different when Denz is around. He’s the life of every party, but he’s also funny in those quiet moments. He was always understanding on those days when Jordan hated the world but couldn’t put into words why.
Jordan knows California is better for Denz. Freeing. He’s creating his own life. A life with Braylon. But there’s a selfish part of him that still wants Denz here.
After a beat, Jamie says, “I miss him too. Constantly.”
The breeze shifts. It brushes curling bangs off Jamie’s forehead. Jordan turns to watch. Jamie stares back. Soft, tiny lines wrinkle his forehead. His mouth curves in a curious way, like he wants to say something else but is giving Jordan room to speak first.
Jordan does. “We’d probably get in so much trouble together if he was here. The three of us.”
“So much trouble,” Jamie repeats.
“He’s doing all of Atlanta a favor.”
Jamie nods commiseratingly. “I’m surprised there aren’t a bunch of those old-schoolWANTEDposters with our faces on them hanging up at every gas station around the city.”
“Beware this trio,” Jordan narrates, “they love ice pops, Starbursts, and starting little fires.”
“I don’t know how you didn’t turn into a pyromaniac.”
“Who says I didn’t?”
Jamie laughs.
Jordan shakes with his own chuckle. He doesn’t care that Jamie’s halfway leaning on him, his breathy gasps ghosting Jordan’s cheek.
This is so…natural. So very them, like when they were teenagers.
“Why were we so terrible back then?” Jamie says between wheezes.
“Because we were young and dumb?”
“Speak for yourself. I’m a year older,” Jamie points out. “I was very mature for my age. Wise beyond my years.”
Jordan snorts. “Wow. You really believe that, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“What’s next? Gonna offer Mikah’s teammates cannabis cupcakes?”
“Don’t start,” Jamie says, low and raspy.
Jordan bats his eyelashes innocently. “Start what?”
“You know.”
Jordan doesn’t, actually. That doesn’t stop him from saying, “Wasn’t it you who always started things?”
“No.”
“If I recall correctly—”
“Which you don’t, because you have a bad memory. The aftereffects of consuming too many weed brownies.”
