Page 132 of The Price of Forever

I’d brought over everything I’d been living with in that small bedroom in Seven’s apartment, which helped things feel slightly less sterile and vast. But the place needed a lot of furniture, not to mention my mug collection.

I was off from both jobs today, which meant I had plenty of time to work on the new place and coordinate delivery of the things I’d stored from my last place. By lunchtime, I had everything dropped off, minus the coffee mugs. At two p.m., I got my first text from Seven.

My heart leapt into my throat when I saw his name on the notification screen. Maybe he took the night to cool off. Recalibrate. Personally, I felt more ready to talk things over now. Start mending fences and figure out how to move forward together—with Ranger.

SEVEN: Chico will be on hand if you need to go anywhere. Update him with your schedule when you can.

SEVEN: We’ll need to meet before Friday to go over the plan.

I stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, a frown growing deeper by the second.

No I miss you or how was the first night. Just business-as-usual. Back to bodyguard square one. I swallowed a knot in my throat and looked around my empty apartment. I’d wanted to share this with him, and he didn’t even care. How did I misread him so terribly? How had I fucked this up?

Seven was the only man I’d truly fallen for, and he was going to act like this? I’d bared my soul to him, and this chill was what I got?

Tears brimmed in my eyes as I struggled to not cry. I never used to cry, not until I met my brothers. Now my emotions were in full view and constantly spilling over. I’d lived for so many years frozen, terrified to emote or get too close to anyone. And lately, I’d had so much warmth that it had melted the frozen casing from my life.

But Seven was showing me maybe I should never have warmed up to him, or anyone else.

There was still plenty of opportunity for me to get hurt, even by the good guys.

JORDAN: Where should we meet?

SEVEN: You can come see the new office if you want.

Was that an olive branch, or a pity twig? I knew nothing anymore. If we’d been together before, this had to mean that we were broken up now. I should not have spent my first night in this apartment without so much as a check-in text from him. I knew this in my bones.

And the stupidest part was that I craved Seven, even though the hurt lashed through me.

JORDAN: Just send me the address and when I should be there.

Seven’s next text held the address and a meet-up time for two days later. I didn’t write back. And neither did he.

Not that day.

Not the next day.

Not even the next.

Chico accompanied me on all my coffee shop and Gemstones shifts. By the morning of the office meet-up, I was so confused that I wasn’t sure how to act around Seven. We’d gone from living together to cold distance. He didn’t ask about the apartment. And now Ranger was caught in the middle. I wanted my cat, but I worried that going there to collect him would be the last time I ever saw the inside of Seven’s apartment.

I’d shared pictures of the progress with Jessa, Mercedes, and Cora in our girl group chat, as well as Damian, Axel, and Trace in my brothers group chat. Hell, Chico had seen the inside of my new apartment multiple times, and Seven had yet to ask.

It hurt more than I wanted to admit even to myself.

When Chico delivered me to the office building, he lingered under the dedication plaque where my and Kaylee’s names were emblazoned, allowing me to visit Seven’s headquarters on my own. When I walked into the stark office area, decorated with only a potted palm set directly in the sunlight streaming in through a big window and an overstuffed chair that formed the waiting area, Seven stepped out of his office to greet me.

The sight of him nearly disabled me. He filled the doorframe, looking somehow completely different than the last time I’d seen him, even though it had only been three days. He wore a light blue button-up with navy slacks, and his hair was slightly shorter and styled just a bit differently. Altogether, he resembled a strange replica of the Seven I’d known. This was Seven the CEO. Equally as hot as the old one, though. He smiled when I approached.

“Hey, Jordan.”

I sized him up, still undecided on how to proceed. I crossed my arms, nibbling at the inside of my lip. “Hey.”

“I’ve been wanting to show you this.”

“Oh, I bet.” There was my answer for how I’d handle this: snark.

He led me into the office, which was a large space with gray vinyl plank flooring, lots of windows, and a big wooden desk. It was sparse, but neat. Exactly as I knew Seven preferred things.

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