Page 120 of Last First Kiss

Jordan has no idea how to finish that sentence. Heshould. But he doesn’t.

A hint of rejection forms in the corners of Javi’s eyes. As if he thinks Jordan’s implying Javi’s the issue. Which isn’t true. But Jordan can’t find the right words to explain what the real issue is.

So when his rideshare pulls up, Jordan word-vomits, “Um, I should go. Don’t want to lose that five-star rating. We’re good, Javi. Forget it happened. See you at the office,” and slumps into the back seat without waiting for Javi to respond.

-13-?Book the Hotel

TODAY8:22AM

AMYWELCH

Good morning, Jordan! I hope your holiday was great! ??

Bad news: We can’t do the final menu tasting today.

Sam got called away by his dad again. He’s in LA

I don’t want to do this without him.

Jamie’s unavailable too. He’s sick!

I know we’re cutting it close, but can we reschedule?

For the third time this morning, Jordan stares at the thread of messages from Amy.

He hasn’t responded yet. He’s processing. Trying to reformulate his plan.

Luckily, the caterer can’t cancel altogether whenever Jordan calls to reschedule the tasting. The contract’s signed. The McClintocks have been on time with every vendor payment too. That doesn’t mean Jordan can’t be more than a tiny bit frustrated with them.

Is Sam going to make it to his own wedding? The honeymoon? What about after that?

Nope. That’s not Jordan’s concern. He just needs to get Samand Amy down the aisle. On the cover of every bridal and media magazine. One painstaking step at a time.

His first priority is rescheduling with the caterer. Which he will, eventually.

It’s just that…

His eyes keep sliding back to Amy’s messages.

Jamie’s unavailable too. He’s sick!

Jordan’s stomach knots. The last time they spoke was the dress fitting. Jordan isn’t avoiding him. He’s busy, that’s all. Between the wedding and organizing Nic’s basketball tournament and Javi kissing him—

On cue, Jordan looks up. Javi passes his office, eyes forward. He stops, hesitating, before quickly disappearing in the opposite direction.

He’s been doing that all morning. Every day since that kiss.

Jordan hasn’t made any real attempt to talk to him either. He’s too preoccupied. Too consumed by his thoughts.

Why wasn’t kissing Javi like kissing Jamie?

He glances back to his phone. “Jamie’s sick,” he whispers, sadly, guiltily, to absolutely no one.

Jordan’s thumb hovers over his text thread with Jamie. He considers opening it. But he knows what’s in there: Jamie’s last text from December. When he invited Jordan to walk around Decatur Square. To watch the tree lighting.

It wasn’t adate. Not by definition. But, somehow, Jordan’s brain got other ideas, and here they are.

Jamie, sick in his apartment.