Page 6 of Her Jealous Ex-FWB
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
I frowned. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Jordan Blackwood randomly called me a few days ago,” she said. “He said he needed to talk to you, and that it was an emergency. I was worried about you.”
“So you’re calling me now, days later?” I asked.
Jules made an embarrassed noise. “I got distracted, okay?”
I let out a soft laugh. Jules was the middle sister, who could be a bit air-headed and oblivious sometimes, but was also very smart. Our youngest sister, Willow, was sweet and friendly. She would be starting her freshman year at college soon.
“There’s no emergency,” I replied. “Jordan was just being dramatic.”
“I didn’t know you were friends with him,” she said.
“Oh, we’re not,” I said, voice vehement. I took a moment to mellow out. “He was just…asking me a favor.” I paused. “Wait a second. How do you know him, anyway?”
Sure, Jordan was popular. Everyone at college knew who he was. But there was a difference between knowing of each other, and having each other’s contact details.
“Oh, he’s like my mentor.”
“What?” I asked. Mentoring Jules in what? Partying? Breaking people’s hearts.
I had a bad feeling about this.
“Yeah, he’s been giving me career advice.”
I frowned. Jules studied economics, and Jordan studied…
Actually, I had no idea what his major was. I’d never thought to ask. It was something to do with maths though. I’d seen the textbooks lying around his dorm when we used to hookup.
“Did he even graduate?” I asked.
Jules laughed, and it was tinny through the phone line. “What kind of question is that? He’s got a job at Chasington.”
I blinked. Chasington was one of the biggest investment banks in the country, maybe even the world. Getting a graduate job there was notoriously difficult. Apparently candidates went through several rounds of interviews, where they were asked questions like, “how many tennis balls would fit in a sixteen wheeler bus?”
“He’s been really helpful,” Jules was saying now, but I could barely pay attention.
Jordan was…not a complete loser? I always thought he’d been nothing more than a fuckboy.
“…and he gave me advice for getting an internship,” Jules finished. “Oh, that reminds me — I have a call with my friend. Gotta figure out where I’m living for the school year. Bye, Ella.”
“Bye,” I mumbled, and lowered my phone.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long moment. For a second, I imagined introducing Jordan to my family. This is my boyfriend —
Boyfriend? No. Impossible.
I shook my head, and went back to getting ready for my picnic date.
The park was lush and green, and Alec and I sat on a rug, nibbling on finger sandwiches, strawberries and cake, while sipping bubbly champagne. It was very romantic.
The most romantic thing Jordan had ever done for me was cook me breakfast after fucking me until two in the morning, the previous night. I’d made the right decision, searching for a real boyfriend instead of continuing to mess around with my ex-FWB. I wanted to be treated like a princess, not like a whore.
Alec and I shared dating horror stories and talked about what we were doing. We weren’t exclusive yet, and could see other people, but we agreed that we both enjoyed spending time with each other.
It was a really lovely afternoon. The sun started to set, and around us, people walked their dogs or went on jogs.
