Page 75 of Last First Kiss

Jordan believes him. He sees the care, the thoughtfulness in Amy. He just wishes he knew more about that other side of Jamie.

“You haven’t brought him up much lately,” Denz points out. “Jamie.”

“Haven’t I?”

Jordan knows he hasn’t. Purposefully.

“I was worried you two weren’t cool anymore.”

Jordan laughs nervously. “Nothing like that.” He picks at his sandwich bun. “The thing is—”

He has no clue whatthe thingis. Just like he didn’t when Denz figured out there was maybe, possibly a small chance Jamie and Jordan liked each other last year.

Jordan was careless at Uncle Kenny’s retirement party. He had one too many drinks that night. Smiled one too many times in Jamie’s direction. Denz is no Hercule Poirot, but he put the clues together. Not that there was anything scandalous happening between them.

So Jordan invited Jamie to a basketball game after Valentine’s Day. Okay, and they had drinks together at one of Jamie’s bars. Fine, there were also occasional breakfasts where Jordan wascaught between laughing and staring at Jamie with this indescribable fascination. Maybe they even took quiet walks together for no reason other than the weather was nice. Jordan liked being around someone other than family and colleagues.

There was nothing to Jamie sitting close to him. Putting the occasional arm around Jordan’s shoulder. A foot pressed to the inside of Jordan’s for a beat longer than normal.

It never went beyond that.

It was never… romantic.

Was it?

“Jordan?”

On screen, Denz has this look. It’s not cautious. Like Jordan’s one more question away from a full-on “cut all my hair off and move to Wales to herd sheep” meltdown—though he might be.

Denz’s expression is endearing.

“Everything’s fine,” Jordan says. “We’re cool?”

He wishes it didn’t come out like a question. He wishes he was more confident.

“Cool,” Denz says.

“Did he, uh—” Jordan swallows around nothing. His sandwich sits half eaten on the paper. “Did Jamie say something?”

“I haven’t asked him about it.” A beam of sunlight falls over Denz’s smile. “I don’tneedto ask him.”

Jordan hates how cryptic that sounds. And Denz never gets a chance to elaborate. In the background, Braylon shouts again. It’s more noise than words. Enough for Denz to jump to his feet.

“Fuck! I thought I had time to hide that.”

“Should I be concerned?” Jordan says warily.

“No. Probably not? Braylon’s harmless. But I should go check. Just in case.” He looks at the screen. “Hey.”

There’ssomethingbehind that one syllable that makes Jordan sit up straighter.

“If you need to talk, I’m here. And if you don’t, I’m here. No rush for any of this, Jordan.”

Jordan knows exactly what “any of this” is. He’s grateful Denz doesn’t label it. That he doesn’t force Jordan to label himself.

“Thanks,” he says.

Denz grins, rubbing a hand over his short blond curls. Which reminds Jordan…