Page 89 of Last First Kiss

“So Kami can murder us before New Year’s? No thanks.”

“It was nice seeing him and Suraj together today.”

“It was,” Jordan says after a long beat.

Jamie licks his popsicle. “Was it like that for you growing up? With Tevin?”

“It… was.”

Jordan smiles softly. He doesn’t think of it often. Ever since he found out the truth about his biological dad—that his grandparents forced his mom to end things with him before Jordan was even born—he’s focused more on what he missed because of it.

He’s rarely reminded of what hegained.

Tevin bought him his first basketball. Taught him how to hit a smooth three-pointer. Took him to get his learner’s permit, then, a year and a day later, his license. Tevin wasn’t always around, so busy with music, but when he was, Jordan felt it. Hestillfeels it.

Jamie’s mouth quirks. “You’d make a great dad.”

A surprised laugh leaps out of Jordan. “What makes you say that?”

“I can just tell.”

“Yeah? You’re part psychic now?”

Maybe Cheryl should start consulting Jamie about Jordan’s love life. On second thought? That’s a terrible idea.

Jamie’s tongue glides across the top of the popsicle. It’s a slow, drawn-out process. Jordan coughs, then chomps into his own popsicle.

Cringing, Jamie says, “Fuck, I forgot you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Eat your popsicles like a monster. Whobitesa popsicle?”

“It’s cold!”

“That’s the point!”

Jordan scoffs. “I don’t see the problem.”

“Because you’re a maniac,” Jamie says, elbowing him. “Thisis how you’re supposed do it.”

He lifts the popsicle like he’s giving a YouTube tutorial. His tongue glides over one side. Then the other. His eyes flutter shut, mouth closing around the top. His cheeks sink in as he sucks.

Slurps.

Sugary, dark red juice drips from the corners of his lips. Down his chin. Jamie pulls off with a loudpopthat echoes like a gunshot. Like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Ironically, Jordan freezes. An unexpected tingle shifts between his thighs.

“Shit!”

Jamie looks down. At his own shirt, thankfully. He’s dribbled red spots all over the fabric. He props the popsicle back between his lips, undoing the buttons. The shirt hangs open in the cool breeze.

Five dogs, their owners, and whoever else is watching get a clear view of Jamie’s tan chest. The light dusting of dark hair between his pecs. All the definition in his stomach.

Of course, Jordanisn’tone of those people staring. He merely observes. Takes a few mental notes so he can revamp his entire workout routine.

“Did you learn anything?”