Page 71 of Last First Kiss

He let his frustration—his disappointment—get in the way. His competitive nature almost cost him everything.

To no one’s surprise, Jordan’s own office isn’t empty when he arrives.

Javi lounges in the chair opposite the desk like it’s his favorite spot in the entire building. He looks up from his phone. A smug grin teases his lips. His shirt is a dull green.Puke green.

Jordan considers vomiting all over his stupid face. It’d be an improvement.

Something else catches Jordan’s eye. On the edge of his desk sits a cardboard cup. He recognizes the logo. Crema the Crop, a local coffee shop Denz used to frequent.

“Is that yours?”

Javi lifts his own cup high. “S’mores latte. I’m told it’sthedrink of the summer.”

Jordan doubts that.

“See.” Javi waves at the cup on Jordan’s desk. “I’m quite good at—what was it you said? Small, insignificant, minuscule tasks?”

“I’m not apologizing.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Javi rubs his chin hair. “Look at us. Already agreeing. We’re going to make a great team.”

“We’re not a team,” Jordan says. “I’m in charge. You’re simply here to assist. Provide suggestions—”

“Which I have,” Javi mentions.

“—that I’ll take into consideration,” Jordan finishes. “Ultimately, I have the final say.”

Javi smiles a little too agreeably for Jordan’s liking. This is a trap. “Should we get started now?”

“No,” Jordan says flatly. His phone lights up. A new message from Nic. “I need to take care of some things.”

Promptly, Javi stands, that loose smile still curled across his mouth. “How about after lunch?”

“I’ll be busy.”

“Later, then? We can do dinner—”

“Still busy.”

Jordan has massive, very unbreakable plans with his dirty laundry. He also needs to start that new drama series on Netflix he’s been hearing about.

Javi sighs. “At least share your calendar with me.”

Jordan pretends to think. “I’ll take that into consideration too.”

For a moment, Javi hangs in the doorway. His eyes scan around like they did the last time. Something passes over his face. In a blink, it’s gone.

“This will be great for both of us,” he insists. “Give me a chance.”

If Jordan squints, he canalmostsee a speck of sincerity in Javi’s expression. “I doubt it,” he says.

Then, he drops the cup from his desk into the wastebasket.

“And I hate coffee.”

Jordan can’t stop staring.

He’s speechless.