Page 149 of Last First Kiss

In reality, there’s no unforgettable ballad.

No passionate embrace or perfectly crafted confession.

No toe-curling kiss.

Instead, it’s Jordan, standing in the middle of the McClintocks’ pristine lawn, breathless, his shirt wrinkled from Jamie’s grip. It’s Jamie, mouth pinched, cheeks almost maroon, eyes full of anger. It’s painful seconds of silence under a purpling sky, all the aesthetically beautiful decorations Jordan hand-selected for the dinner doing nothing to lighten the mood circling them.

“How could you?” Jamie finally seethes.

Jordan blinks. “Wait, are you mad?”

“I can’t believe you.”

Jordan takes a step back, shocked. “Youaremad. For what?”

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Jamie says, voice low.

“Said what? How lucky they are to have you in their lives?”Jordan folds his arms. “That you deserve tochoosewho you date? That they shouldn’t try tobuythe son they want?”

“Any of it.”

“Is this a joke?” Jordan says indignantly.

Jamie rubs a frustrated hand over his face. “No.”

“Good. Because I’m not laughing.” Jordan sighs. “They were out of line, Jamie. I was defending—”

“I don’t need you to swoop in with your cape on,” Jamie snaps, his expression hard. “I don’t need to be fucking saved.” He paces in a small circle. “I told you I’m working on things with my parents. That I need space.”

“So, what? You want me to let them trash you right in front of me?”

“Yes!”

“You came tome, Jamie,” Jordan says in a low growl. “I was minding my business. I wasworking. Now I’m out here trying to figure out what the fuck you want.”

“You know what I want.”

“No, I don’t,” Jordan argues. “You smile at me from across a party, then get mad at me. You kiss me and have sex with me and tell me you’re tired of chasing the way you felt when we first kissed, then let Sloane come in and—” He waves his hand in the air.

Jamie’s eyes widen as if he can’t believe Jordan knows about how he felt. As if he doesn’t remember saying it out loud in the first place.

But Jordan’s too far gone to backtrack.

“You look at me like—” Jordan hates the thickness in his throat. That sharp burn at the back of his nose, like tears are a breath away. “Like I’m the only person you want. You say you always want me around, then tell me you’re not right for me.”

He inhales deeply before continuing.

“You want me to figure myself out. But I don’t even know whoyouare.”

Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s different.”

“Is it? Is it really, Jamie?”

“Of course it is!” Jamie hisses. “This is my family. Don’t pretend things aren’t the same with yours. I talk to Denz. I know the stories.”

Jordan stiffens.

Denz and Jamie have been friends for over thirteen years. Jordan’s always wondered what secrets Denz shared with him. What things Jamie knows. How much of Jordan’s own life—his grandparents, what happened with his biological dad—has been disclosed. He’s never had the nerve to ask.