Page 32 of The Price of Forever

“Oh, there’s that no face again,” Axel said. “I heard Seven booked you a room at the Ritz. We can upgrade you to the penthouse.”

Seven coughed lightly from my side.

“I don’t want to live out of a hotel,” I told them. I wasn’t trying to be difficult. Ritz or not, I had negative associations with hotel life. I didn’t know how else to put it—I wanted my own space, paid for by my own money. And I’d accept nothing less. Or more.

Damian didn’t look amused. He sighed testily, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter near the stove. “Fine. Then why don’t you move in with Seven?”

I blinked. This idea hadn’t even occurred to me as a possibility. I wasn’t sure I’d even realized that he had a home. He was simply Seven, the impossibly hot man who followed me. “Uh…”

“You’re already familiar with him. He’s proven himself a valuable asset in an emergency.” Damian gestured toward Seven, as though I needed any reminder. “You wouldn’t mind, right, Seven? It might even make things easier until she finds a permanent spot.”

I turned just in time to catch a barely masked look of panic on Seven’s face. “There’s not exactly a bed ready…”

“We can fix that, and provide anything that’s needed, obviously,” Axel interjected. “Your apartment is huge though. It should work fine as an interim solution.”

Seven cleared his throat, and the taste of his discomfort was a nectar I was desperate for more of. Though I usually loathed the idea of living with someone, I could make an exception for the Hottie Roboto. Something told me living with him would be easy for me and annoying for him, which made it the perfect plan.

“I love this idea,” I gushed. Zero licked my hand, which had stopped petting him momentarily.

“She loves the idea.” Damian looked genuinely proud.

Axel nodded, smiling between me and Seven and Zero. “If my little sister loves it, I want to give it to her. What do you think Seven?”

His jaw ticked. “That should work for the interim.”

Axel’s smile faded. “Only problem is, I don’t like the idea of my little sister moving in with a bachelor of any sort…”

“Any funny business would be the absolute end of your contract,” Damian told Seven with an extra edge in his voice.

I snorted. “You guys don’t have to worry about anything like that. Seven is only recently learning about human emotions in his transition from a robot.”

Damian looked like he was fighting a laugh. Seven, on the other hand, only looked annoyed.

“I’ve never engaged in inappropriate contact with any of my clients or their siblings, and I don’t intend to start now,” he said tersely. “My professional conduct is top-notch, and that’s something I take very seriously. Besides,” he sniffed, glancing my way, “she’s a brat. No offense.”

I tried to look offended, but I could only laugh.

“Well I think we can mark this item off the to-do list,” Axel said. “Now, it’s time for subpar eggs.”

Seven’s face returned to that neutral mask I was used to. But it was fine—I knew he disliked the idea of me moving in. That’s all I needed from him.

I, on the other hand, had not been exaggerating.

I fucking loved this idea.

And I planned on milking it for every drop of fun I could.

CHAPTER EIGHT

SEVEN

“One thousand square feet of bachelor paradise,” Jordan murmured the words her brother had used to describe my apartment during our marathon meeting over subpar eggs. She paused in the middle of the great room—exposed brick, freshly updated wood floors, industrial style lighting that could be toned up or down a million ways depending on the mood. She nodded as her gaze skipped around the room then finally settled on me.

She looked too fucking pleased with this situation.

“What’s with the messy floors?” She jerked her chin toward the wood shavings scattered near the trash can. Oops. I’d cleaned up before I rushed out the door to meet Jordan the day before, but had apparently missed the mark when I tossed the remnants from my latest project.

“Can’t a guy forget to sweep once in awhile?” It was easier than telling her the full truth. It seemed wise to keep her at arm’s length, even though now we’d be living a breath away. “I’ll show you where you’ll sleep.” I led her to the faux bedroom set up at the back of the apartment. “It’s not as luxurious as the Ritz, but I think you’ll survive.”

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