Epilogue. Enjoy the Reception
Epilogue
? Enjoy the Reception
Three months later
Sunday family dinners with the Carters are always extra.
It never fails.
Auntie Leena chases everyone out of the kitchen while she cooks.
Tevin and Auntie Eva argue over their rival teams, no matter which sport.
Uncle Kenny grabs anyone who’ll listen to him talk about his latest retirement hobby: This month, it’s photography.
A game of Spades will turn into an all-out war with Cheryl leading the charge.
Mikah convinces someone—usually Suraj—to time how long he can do keep-ups with his new soccer ball.
It’s noisy and goes on for hours and Jordan never misses a chance to be there.
But this dinner is different.
It’s his first family gathering with an actual, capitalized Boyfriend.
He’s not nervous. Those pit stains on his Burberry cotton T-shirt? They’re from the heat. Autumns in Atlanta are warm. It’s scientific knowledge.
Anyway, Jordan’s fine. Not freaking out one bit.
The air is spiced with crunchy leaves and wood smoke and Auntie Leena’s signature hot apple cider.
Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” plays from a Bluetooth speaker.
Everyone is spread across the wide patio: Nic, home for fall break, dipping her calves in the heated pool.
His mom and Auntie Eva share their second pours of white wine on the cushy sofas near the fire pit.
Tevin teaches Mikah and Suraj the Carlton dance.
Poolside, Kami smiles while Orlando and Kenny clink beer bottles.
Jordan watches it all from his favorite lounge chair.
The same chair he flopped onto after swimming races as a teen. Where he’s seen a million sunsets. Where he’s sat under Fourth of July fireworks crackling against a dark sky.
A familiar kind of warmth wraps around him. Nostalgia. The comfort of his family, all right here.
Oh, and from the tall, hulking body he’s sharing this chair with.
“Look!”
Jamie swings his long legs around. They bracket Jordan’s hips from behind. He curls his arms around Jordan’s midsection, chest to Jordan’s back.
Jordan only tenses for a second.
This is new. Jamie’s never hidden his affectionate nature. He’s the quintessential border collie in human form. But it’s different now. They’re different now.
Jamie loves to hold his hand on walks. Rest his head on Jordan’s shoulder during movies. Softly bite the sensitive skin just under Jordan’s jaw while waiting on their smoothie orders. Kiss Jordan on busy streets. Open and sweet and deep.
Jordan can’t get enough of it.
Except, they’ve never been like this around his family.
It took Jordan a week to tell Denz. Another month to come out to Tevin and his mom. He wasn’t scared of their reactions. He just wanted time. To soak in that he was Jamie’s and Jamie was his.
Plus, he knew what would happen the second Cheryl found out. After the bone-crushing hug and I’m so happy for you and Madame Lorraine was right all along!, his mom did the expected: told everyone in the Carter family group chat.
Carter Confidential never disappoints.
Jamie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he reveled in it. He’s always been a Carter by association, thanks to Denz. Now, he’s part of the family for another reason.
A better reason, Jordan thinks.
Jamie has no qualms about staying true to himself. Which means he doesn’t notice the occasional glances they get when he hooks his chin on Jordan’s shoulder, their faces so close.
And, well, it’s enough for Jordan not to care either.
Jamie holds up his phone. There’s a selfie on the screen. Amy and Sam, beaming at the camera, a gorgeous neon-lit Seoul in the background.
“You owe me a hundred bucks,” Jamie says, breath ghosting Jordan’s cheek.
“We bet fifty.”
“Did we?”
“Yes.” Jordan snatches the phone from his hands. “The stipulation was if they got back together before the holidays.”
“It’s right there!” Jamie’s index finger stabs the screen. “He went to Korea to see her!”
“Maybe he’s on location for the Marvel movie? Maybe they just happened to run into each other?” Jordan proposes.
“Bullshit. They’re so back together.”
Jordan nudges his cheek against Jamie’s. It’s prickly with unshaven hair, just the way he loves it. “They’re in a photo together,” he corrects. “How do I know you didn’t photoshop this?”
“Does it look like I can photoshop?”
Jordan cranes his neck. The tousled brown hair. Big brown-green eyes like the sun cutting through a forest. A fine dusting of stubble along his jaw. Jordan’s stomach flips when he thinks about that beautiful face between his thighs this morning.
He shrugs. “It’s possible.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re Denz’s best friend,” Jordan points out. “I don’t put anything past him or his friends.”
“I heard that!”
As if summoned by the gods of mischief and schemes, Denz emerges from the house.
Behind him, Braylon hauls a case of bottled water over one shoulder like it’s nothing.
They’re in matching shorts and tropical-print linen shirts.
Looking every bit like an old married couple.
Thankfully, the blond has faded from their hair.
“If this is how they dress in LA,” Eva calls out, “then return to sender!”
Denz pastes on a grin. “Thanks, Auntie.” He gestures to Jordan and Jamie. “This is still gross and weird, by the way.”
Jamie beams. “We appreciate the support.”
“Ignore him,” Braylon insists after unloading the water. “Jet lag makes him quite the tosser.”
“What’s a tosser?” Mikah asks, appearing out of nowhere to hug Denz’s waist.
“A quarterback,” Denz instinctively says. He swats Braylon’s stomach.
“Ow! You bloody wan—”
“Champagne time!” Leena announces. She walks out with a tray of glasses and a bottle of Bollinger. The label alone makes Jordan nauseous.
Kami quirks an eyebrow. “Champagne? We haven’t even had dinner yet. What’s the occasion, Mom?”
There’s a beat of silence.
Leena trades awkward stares with her in-laws. Uncle Kenny clears his throat while Braylon looks away, suspicious. Jordan’s not sure what the fuck is happening.
Flustered, Leena says, “Oh, um, I’m just so happy!”
Jordan’s eyes narrow. Auntie Leena never gets flustered.
“Denz is home,” she carries on. “Nic is too! All my babies are here. Also, Suraj and Jamie and Braylon and—all of us! Together!”
“That’s enough, LeeLee,” Kenny says. He slides an arm around her tense shoulders. She sighs so heavily, the tray almost tips.
Jamie springs into action. “Whoa, whoa! Let me get that.”
“Thanks, Jamie.”
“Of course, Momma C.” He grins for Leena.
“Such a gentleman.” She glares in Denz’s and Jordan’s direction. “I wish I had a son or nephew that was so helpful.”
Denz waves the notion off. “He’s just trying to earn brownie points.”
“Pot brownie points,” Jordan coughs into his elbow. When Jamie’s cheeks brighten pinker than the sky, Jordan’s head tips back with laughter.
Denz grins deviously. “Speaking of…”
Well, fuck. Jordan knew better than to tell Denz how it all started when he asked on FaceTime a month ago. How they shared that first kiss while Denz was snoring five feet away.
Jordan jumps to his feet. “I’ll go help Jamie.”
“Help him with what exactly?” Denz yells after him.
Jordan waits until no one’s watching him to flip Denz two middle fingers.
At the outdoor wet bar, Jamie expertly fills each glass. Don Henley’s “The Boys of Summer” pours from the speaker. Whoever curated this playlist has no clue how ironic and hilarious they’re being.
Jordan smiles, watching Jamie.
Jamie grins back. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, it’s definitely something.”
And it is. Something.
It’s hard to put into words. It feels like popping candies in Jordan’s blood. Like fresh air in his lungs. Most days, it’s all he thinks about. How different life is.
How happy he is.
The therapy certainly helps. He goes once a week, alone. Once a month with Tevin and his mom, as a family. It hasn’t solved everything. But he feels better afterward.
Like a wound he’s avoided acknowledging is slowly healing.
And the nightmares have stopped.
Nothing has changed at work. He’s still an event coordinator. So is Javi. But they find themselves working together more, even when they’re not assigned to. Their competitiveness pushes them both.
At the end of the day, they’re invested in each other’s success.
Jamie’s back to bartending. But only at a couple of bars. He’s looking for something else. Jordan not so subtly drops hints about that charming bookstore in Decatur. He’s pretty sure Jamie is warming up to the idea.
Living his best William Thacker life.
Sometimes, after a long day at the office, Jordan drives straight to Jamie’s apartment. Unintentionally, without thinking. It’s like his compass is permanently pointed in Jamie’s direction now. His north is Jamie. His home is where Jamie is.
Every night, he falls asleep in Jamie’s arms. Each morning, they wake up in one of their beds.
Jamie hasn’t moved out of the downtown luxury apartment yet. He’s going to. He wants a solid plan first. One he’s mapped out on his own. For the past month, Jordan’s had this itching desire to ask Jamie to move in with him, but it’s still early in their relationship.
But, also, it’s not.
Thing is, there’s never been a timeline with them. They’ve never exactly followed everyone else’s guide on how to fall in love.
Why start now?
Jordan likes the scent of oak and amber on his pillows. Finding wrinkled T-shirts everywhere. Cooking for two. The collection of rom-coms piling up on his Netflix watchlist. Rolling over in the middle of the night into a warm, bare chest and waiting arms.
But he loves that they take their time. With everything. The long stares and longer kisses and slow, passionate sex. There’s never a rush. Never has been.
So he can wait.
“You’re thinking really hard,” Jamie says, breaking Jordan from his daze.
“Hmm.”
Jamie leans over the bar. “I know that face.”
“Do you?”
“It’s your I want to rip off all your clothes and get on my knees to—”
The music drops out. Fortunately, no one hears the rest of what Jamie says. They can’t. Not over the shrieking and “Oh my God!” and Tevin whooping in the background.
When Jordan turns to look, his breath catches. Jamie gasps behind him.
No, Jordan’s not the one on his knees.
Suraj is.
He cradles Kami’s left hand, an opened velvet box between them. Tears spill down her cheeks. Mikah’s right there too, hugging Suraj’s neck.
It’s adorable. And completely unexpected.
Jordan can’t hear a word Suraj says over the Carters shouting and snapping photos and recording every moment. But he hears Kami’s breathless “Yes!”
The echo of his entire family yelling “Yes!”
Mikah screeching, “Mama and Baba are getting married!”
So that’s what the champagne was for.
Nic sidles up to Jordan. “I told you I’m perceptive.”
He scoffs. “You said Braylon was proposing.”
“He is. In the future.”
Jordan elbows her, laughing. The uncles pass out the champagne flutes. The aunties squeal over the ring. Denz and Braylon take turns tossing a giggling Mikah in the air. It’s chaos and noise and everything Jordan expects from his family.
From his life.
It’s everything he loves.
A pair of familiar arms hug him from behind. Jamie’s nose brushes Jordan’s cheek before he says, “I want that.”
“Want what?”
Jamie points to Kami and Suraj. Foreheads touching. Staring into each other’s eyes. Holding on like gravity itself couldn’t yank them apart. So deeply in love, it hurts to look at.
Jamie smiles against Jordan’s jaw. “Someday.”
Jordan’s never really thought about marriage. For himself, that is. He knows what a love story is supposed to look like. What the movies and TV and books tell him. What he saw from his own family, even if it wasn’t conventional for his mom and Tevin.
But he’s never seen what love could look like for him.
He does now.
From across the pool, Jordan catches his mom’s eye. She smiles conspiratorially. Like she knows what Jordan’s thinking.
Like she hopes Jordan’s not afraid to give it a chance.
“I want that too,” he says, tenderly. “Someday.”
“But first,” Jamie says, “let’s get a dog.”
Jordan groans. They’ve had this conversation one too many times. Secretly, he loves that they keep having it. Keep making plans. Keep talking about the future.
Their future.
He spins to face Jamie. Hooks his arms around Jamie’s neck. “On one condition,” he bargains.
“What?”
“You beat me at Mario Kart.”
One side of Jamie’s mouth lifts. That irresistible crooked grin. “That’s easy,” he says.
“No cheating,” Jordan warns. “And no pot brownies.”
“I don’t need weed or any devious tactics to beat you, Jordan Carter,” Jamie says way too fondly. “All I have to do is kiss you.”
Jordan laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to step onto his tiptoes and meet Jamie halfway. He’s not afraid to show anyone how in love he is with Jamie.
How he’s always been in love with him.
When Jordan Carter tells his family the story of how he met his first love, it’ll start a little something like this:
Jamie Noah Peters was his first kiss. His first crush?
His first boyfriend.
He’s the first man—the first person—Jordan ever felt something intimate for. Something so big and consuming and oddly comforting, he couldn’t put a name to it. Until he did.
Love.
He won’t leave out the part about the pot brownies.
The distance or the awkwardness or Jamie hitting him with a door.
He won’t skip dancing in the park or King of Pops or the flu.
He might skim over what happened in Jamie’s Jeep, in Jamie’s shower, in Jamie’s bed.
But he’ll include the fights and misunderstandings.
Because that’s what love is like—a puzzle. You need every piece to see the full picture.
And when he finishes the story, Jordan hopes it goes like this:
Jamie Noah Peters was his last first everything.
The beginning and end to every moment Jordan loves most.