Page 103 of Last First Kiss

“A mood lifter,” Jamie proposes.

“Garden gummies?”

Jordan looks around, as if at any moment an undercover officer is going to jump out from a rack of dresses and arrest them.

Amy, however, isconsideringthe idea.

“Ames,” Jamie says in that gently convincing voice that has swayed Jordan into some quite diabolical situations over the years. “You need a break from stressful wedding shit. You deserve to let loose. Have fun.”

Amy continues to ponder.

Jamie smiles. “At least have one to make it through today.”

Jordan watches the change in her expression. The slow shift from logical to spellbound. They’re doomed.

“Gimme,” she demands, palm out.

“Fuck yes,” Jamie says, then shrinks down when he realizes he’s too loud. He would make the world’s worst criminal.

He shakes out a single gummy for Amy. Then he tosses one in his own mouth. When he turns to Jordan, there’s a dangerous look in his eyes, a sideways grin Jordan didn’t dream about the other night.

(He did. At least it kept the nightmares away.)

“I’m not doing this without you,” Jamie tells him.

“You already did!”

Jamie sticks out his tongue. A half-chewed gummy sits in the middle of the long, pink surface. And now Jordan’snotthinking about what that tongue has done to him.

He sighs. “Fuck it.” Jordan needs a break from his own head.

Jamie does a tiny victory dance.

The effect isn’t instant. For the most part, Jordan’s fine. The inside of his mouth tastes like watermelon kiwi. And sharp, tangy THC. But it’s been thirty minutes, and he’s okay.

They all are.

Marisol’s back, working on the hem of Amy’s dress.

Jamie slouches on the love seat, legs spread. Every few breaths, his knee brushes Jordan’s. A little reminder he’s still there. He’s not going anywhere. They don’t have to talk about what happened the other night.

And who knows? Maybe it’ll happen again.

Maybe Jordan’s alreadythoughtabout it happening again. While working out in the gym. Or in the shower. Standing over his kitchen counter as his dinner goes cold. Right now, as Jamie twists a finger through his thick, messy waves.

The same hair Jordan tugged on and—

“I was going to get my master’s,” Amy says out of nowhere.

Startled, Jordan cocks his head. “Sorry?”

Amy’s cheeks are flushed, her eyes glassy. “I was going to go back to school,” she says like they were in the middle of a conversation. “Sam talked me out of getting another degree. He wants me in London.”

“You know,” Jamie says, “there’s this thing calledonline classes.”

“No,” she says dramatically. “There won’t be time. His mom wants to spend quality time with me. While we’re in London. While ‘our boys are making magic on the set.’”

She affects Lydia’s voice in a way that shouldn’t be as funny as it is.