Page 99 of Last First Kiss

Like now.

Jamie catches him, eyebrows raised.

Jordan clears his throat. Fucking fake sapphire martini. He shifts back to Meg.

“Where’s your next stop?”

She pulls an honest-to-God printed itinerary from her clutch. It’s on expensive cardstock. With gold filigree. Her cousin must be a terror on birthdays.

“Hmm. Lucky Mickey’s Tavern?”

Jamie almost knocks over the row of drinks.

Jordan sips from his glass to keep from laughing. Instant regret. Jesus, why does he hate himself?

“That place is… uh, great,” Jamie stammers.

“Is it?” Meg asks, clearly appreciating Jamie’s biceps as he loads a tray up with their electric iced teas.

“Oh, yeah,” Jordan says teasingly. “Highly recommended. The bartenders are—”

“Hot?” Jamie suggests, sensing where Jordan was going.

“More like”—Jordan pretends to think, spinning his own glass on the bar—“a work in progress.”

Jamie tosses a lime wedge at him. Jordan catches it one-handed. He watches Jamie’s white teeth pin down a corner of his grin. It makes his lower lip plumper. Redder.

Another weird belly flip. A flop, to be accurate.

“You should come,” Meg says over the cheers from a rowdy group of trivia contestants. She looks directly at Jamie.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Me?”

Meg nods eagerly.

“And Jordan?” Jamie inquires.

Her eyes cheat in Jordan’s direction. It’s not the most favorable glance. But Meg manages to paste on a smile. “Sure. Both of you.”

Jamie crosses his arms over his chest. He really has no clue how tight that shirt is. Jordan rolls his eyes.

“Nah,” Jamie says after a second. “I’m here pretty late. I’ll slow you down.”

“We can wait,” Meg offers. “OrIcan wait.”

Jordan senses where this is headed.

It’s been months since Jamie was on a date. At least, Jordan thinks it’s been that long. He doesn’t ask. Denz mentioned a breakup earlier this year. It’s a topic Jamie never brings up.

Regardless, far be it from Jordan to cockblock him. If Jamie’s into Meg, good for him. It doesn’t explain the strange tightness corkscrewing in Jordan’s chest, but that’s probably the blue death he continues to sip on.

He begins to stand.

Jamie smiles widely. “That’s okay. I have plans after work anyway. With Jordan.”

Jordan loses his balance and the back of his hand hits his glass. Blue liquid splashes onto his sleeve.

Thing is, he doesn’t care.That much. Because Jamie’s staring right at him.