Page 173 of Last First Kiss

It’s Javi. He crosses his arms. Even after a hard day’s work, he still manages to look annoyingly handsome.

Jordan hates him.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Javi says coolly, “since you haven’t said anything to me since the engagement dinner.”

Fine. Jordan deserves that.

“Why did you lie for me?” he asks.

Javi eyes him for a beat, then sighs. “As much as this pains me to admit, I’m not perfect.”

“Seriously? That’s news to me,” Jordan deadpans.

“Ha,” Javi says dryly. “Look, I did my fair share of regretful shit at Elite Events. Whiskey shots at birthday parties. Attending a client’s bachelor party. Hooking up with a bride’s brother. Cousin. Her ex.” He rubs his chin, thoughtfully. “Never puked on a client’s lawn, though. That raised the bar.”

“What can I say? I’m a trendsetter.”

“I’ve been there, Jordan,” Javi tells him. “My ma says your twenties are for making mistakes, being unsure, and a certified clusterfuck.”

“What are your thirties for?”

“Reinventing yourself, less drinking, better sex…” Javi listseverything on his fingers. “Don’t get me started on what she said your forties are for.”

A laugh bubbles out of Jordan.

“Also,” Javi says, more serious, “you were hurting.”

Jordan’s back stiffens. He can’t quite make eye contact.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you and—” Javi stops short when Jordan grimaces. He gives a commiserative frown. “I know what that’s like. The last thing you needed were people like the McClintocks looking down at you when they already think we’re—”

“Beneath them?” Jordan inserts.

“Exactly.”

They wade around in silence. Javi watches the sun fall behind the skyline. Jordan stares at his shoes, thinking of how wrong he was. He wrote Javi’s ambition off as overconfidence, arrogance. His sharp tongue as cruelty rather than a defense mechanism.

They might not operate the same way, approach situations with similar solutions, but they’re not that different.

“Thank you,” he says, meeting Javi’s gaze. “I crossed a line.”

The corners of Javi’s mouth twitch into a shy smile. “Kind of like the line I crossed when I kissed you?”

Jordan rolls his eyes, grinning.

“You know,” Javi starts, strolling closer, “I’m relieved Jamie’s the reason you looked like you wanted to die after we kissed that night.”

“I didn’t—”

Javi waves his rebuttal off. “I thought I was a bad kisser.” He bats his pretty eyelashes. “But I’m not, am I?”

Jordan flips him off. “Stop fishing for compliments.”

“I have a reputation to protect.”

“Trust me,” Jordan says, lips curling into a smirk, “you don’t want to know what they write about you on the bathroom stalls.”

“Oh, I know.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Most of it’s true.”