Page 1 of Her Jealous Ex-FWB
CHAPTER ONE
Have you ever made a mistake that haunts you?
Everyone thinks I’m a good girl. I graduated from college with top grades, just started an excellent corporate job, and remember to call my parents three times a week.
I’m a good girl. I don’t spread my legs for just anyone.
That’s what people think.
What’s my mistake, you ask?
Becoming friends with benefits with Jordan Blackwood.
My phone chimed with a message while I was doing my makeup.
JB: wyd tonight?
I rolled my eyes. I hadn’t seen Jordan since I graduated college a month ago, and I thought he’d would have got the hint by now.
Yes, he had been fun to mess around with in college, but things were different now. I recently turned twenty-two and had started a job at a good company. It was time for me to grow up. I’d no longer hook-up with a walking red flag. No, it was time for me to get into a real relationship.
Which was why I was putting makeup on. Tonight, I had a date with arealman, not some stupid college boy.
I’d met Alec on a dating app, and tonight was our first date. He was a twenty-five year old engineer, and he seemed kind and respectable, the kind of guy I could introduce to my parents.
My mom and dad had been asking about my love life, and I couldn’t exactly explain to them that I’d spent the past fewmonths being friends with benefits with my college’s resident fuckboy.
I never intended to get involved with Jordan. We ran in roughly the same circles, and I’d seen him at parties since freshman year. Everyone told me to stay away. He broke girls’ hearts. He’d use you like a sex toy, then discard you like a dirty tissue.
A few months ago, I ran into him at a house party. My friends had dragged me out, because I’d been stressed about finishing my degree and finding a job. I’d tried to relieve my stress with sex, but every guy I’d hooked up with had been awful in bed.
It was so bad, to the point that I’d gone temporarily celibate, because I didn’t want to deal with another two-pump chump.
So I was at a party I didn’t want to be at, simultaneously stressed and sexually frustrated. I was drinking beer that tasted awful and leaning against a wall, bored out of my mind, while my friends made out with random guys on the couch.
That’s when Jordan had appeared next to me. Now, the unfortunate thing about Jordan is that he’s devastatingly handsome. Six foot four, lean muscles, dark brown hair and stormy blue eyes. Even though every girl knows he’s a red flag, he’ll never run out of side pieces. He’s just that gorgeous.
He made small talk — was I enjoying the party, what was I drinking, etc. I answered him, but maintained a suspicious tone, because I knew about his reputation.
“You got a boyfriend, Ella?” he asked eventually.
“No. I’m swearing off men.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“Because they’re all shit in bed. I’m sick of it being over in thirty seconds.”
His laugh was low and smooth. “We’re not all like that,” he said.
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious.” He stepped closer and I could smell the crisp musk of his deodorant. “Come with me, and I’ll prove it to you.”
I gave him a flat look. Was that his line? Did that really work?
“What do you want with me?” I asked. I was just an average girl. I hadn’t dressed up particularly nice that night, and there were way prettier women dancing in the living room. Besides, those women looked like a fun time. I was standing in the corner, looking bitter.
“It’s because you’re so prim and proper,” he said, leaning in closer so his breath tickled my ear. “You know what I think, Ella?”
