Page 160 of Last First Kiss

Santa hats ugly sweaters hot cocoa

don’t make me do this alone ??

The holidays come quicker than Jordan anticipated.

One moment, it’s October, and he’s planning a Halloween bash alongside a high-profile actor’s nonbinary kid’s b-mitzvah. The next, it’s late November. Holiday parties explode across his calendar. Kami appoints him co-organizer of 24 Carter Gold’s upcoming annual New Year’s Eve celebration. It’s hectic and adrenaline draining and Jordan never wants to see his boss on six hours of sleep without caffeine again.

Point is, he needs a night off.

A Christmas tree lighting is perfect.

The biggest tree lighting happens at the Battery Atlanta, a curated shopping district northwest of the city. There’s live music, minor celebrities, and even a holiday movie showing afterward. Jordan’s been before. Uncle Kenny was an honorary guest. Butit’s far too noisy and glitzy, a commercial production that rivals some of 24 Carter Gold’s celebrations.

Downtown Decatur is simpler. Homier. A city wrapped up in small-town vibes. It reminds Jordan of Christmases with his whole family. All nearly a dozen of them, packed into Uncle Kenny and Auntie Leena’s living room, decorating an artificial tree over eggnog and music.

He arrives early to take it all in.

Wreaths glow from lampposts. Lights are strung in shop windows. The air is slightly chilled, perfumed with pine sap and ginger and wood smoke from the restaurants.

The square is already packed. Carolers warm up tree-side. Kids hopped up on soft, chewy cookies and steaming cocoa run around shrieking happily. Couples take selfies on the lawn or under the gazebo. Santas of all sizes parade through the crowd like a flash mob will break out into Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” any second.

Jordan cringes.

Please, God. No flash mobs.

A family of Grinches passes him wearing fuzzy, lime-green onesies and red scarves. He almost snaps a photo to show Denz. But then they clear and—

There he is.

Disheveled bedhead, prickly jaw. In casual boots, faded jeans, and a bright green sweater with snowflakes and ornaments and Homer Simpson disappearing into foliage. It’s the most hideous thing Jordan’s ever seen. But on Jamie, it’s perfect.

In a sea of tinsel and popcorn garlands, Jamie Peters is the star on the tree.

Jordan can’t help but laugh as he approaches.

Jamie frowns. “You’re not wearing an ugly sweater.”

He is not. Jordan opted for light-wash jeans and a snug tan wool pullover. Technically, still a sweater. Just not from the Burn After Wearing section of T.J. Maxx.

“I gave you specific instructions,” Jamie says.

“You did no such thing.”

“I absolutely did.” Jamie unlocks his phone and reads, “Santa hats. Ugly sweaters. Hot cocoa.”

Jordan squints at him. “Fine. But we don’t have Santa hats.”

With a flourish, Jamie produces a red-and-white Santa hat out of thin air. Or out of the back pocket of his jeans. He plops it on Jordan’s head.

“Ta-da!”

Jordan scowls. He got a fresh haircut this afternoon. For no real reason. Certainly not because he was seeing Jamie tonight. That would be absurd.

Either way, this stupid hat is ruining his aesthetics.

He blows the cottony white ball at the end out of his face. “I look ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“’Tis the season, Jordan!”