Page 121 of Last First Kiss

Jordan, slowly losing his mind at work.

The two of them, not speaking. Again.

It’s so stupid. What is there to think about? The wedding takes precedence. Besides, Jamie doesn’t need Jordan. Sloane’s probably looking after him. Maybe she’s made him tea. Tucked him into bed, crawled in with him, sliding under his sheets, and—

“Fuck,” Jordan hisses. He glares at his phone screen. How the hell did he end up on Sloane’s Instagram?

He’s a mess. An actual masochist. Because, one tap later, he’s watching her latest Instagram story. It’s time-stamped twenty minutes ago. Sloane, sunbathing on a beach with a caption that says,much needed qt with fam!

The geotag is Tybee Island.

Which means she’s not here. In Atlanta.

With Jamie.

He’s alone, sick. His best friend is in LA. His other closest friend is chasing her fiancé for wedding help and the woman Jamie’s not dating butalso kind of ishas traveled two hundred miles away to bronze her already sun-kissed skin while wearing a Versace one-piece.

Jordan pictures Jamie sprawled out on his bathroom floor. Red-nosed and pale. Coughing up a lung while Celine Dion’s “All by Myself” blares from a Bluetooth speaker.

It’s all very dramatic. VeryJamie.

Jordan locks his phone. No. He will not make this a thing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Javi pause by his door again. He looks like he might come in this time. At the last second, Javi turns away, and fuck it, Jordan’s had enough.

He grabs his phone and keys. Rips open his office door. Jordan chases Javi before he can even think of what to say.

“Hi” is what comes out.

Javi jerks back, wide-eyed. “Oh, uh, hey?”

They stare awkwardly at each other. Jordan really should’ve thought this through.

But Javi clearly has. “About what happened…” He makes a face. Jordan’s unsure whether to be offended or ashamed. “I’m sorry. If you want to report me to Kami, I—”

“I’m not reporting anything.”

Javi nods. “But if youdecideto, I understand. It shouldn’t have happened. I’ve never done anything like that before with a colleague.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?” Javi takes another step back. Like Jordan’s some kind of alien that can’t be trusted.

Jordan can’t help but laugh. “We’re good, Javi.”

“We’re… good?”

“Yes.”

Javi continues to watch him through narrowed eyes.

Jordan doesn’t have time for this. “Listen, you’re still the third-best event coordinator around here. You’re annoying as hell. Not very funny. You wear too much cologne. You have a villainous mustache and—”

“I have awhat?”

Jordan goes on. “I’m better—will always be better—but I respect you enough to forget the other night if you will.”

A smirk slowly blooms across Javi’s mouth. “What other night?”