Page 138 of The Price of Forever

Trojan cleared his throat. “He’s, uh, just doing his thing. Working himself to death, in all senses.”

I turned slightly. “What does that mean?”

“With the business. In the gym. He’s just nonstop. He gets like this when he’s trying to not think about something. And I think there are a few things he’s trying not to think about, if you know what I’m saying.”

My gaze shifted to Liam in the front seat. He pulled up to the valet lane in front of the restaurant and flashed his blinkers. It was my time to leave…but I wanted to probe a little deeper with Trojan.

“Explain,” I said softly.

Trojan sighed tersely. To Liam, he said, “Can you give me a minute to brief Jordan? Step outside, I’ll let you know when we finish.”

Liam nodded and slipped out of the car. When it was just the two of us, Trojan assessed me heavily. “My friend is going crazy, Jordan. Because of you. And I need him to fucking snap out of it soon.”

I blinked rapidly. I had not seen that coming.

“He’s crazy about you, and he’s suffering without you. But he won’t fucking admit it because he’s a stubborn asshole.”

My throat tightened. It was what I’d been dying to hear, but it didn’t make things easier, or better. If he refused to do anything about his feelings, I certainly couldn’t convince him to change his mind.

“Well, he knows where to find me.” I reached for the door handle. “And he’s had plenty of time.”

“He’s had a hard time opening up since Olivia,” Trojan blurted. The new name made me pause, turning to look at him.

“Olivia?”

“His late fiancé,” Trojan said, emotion creasing his features. “She was murdered eight years ago. They were engaged to be married, living off base in California. Seven was out on duty one night, and a serial killer broke into their house and murdered her.” His throat bobbed, but he didn’t look away. I was pinned to my spot. “I thought you should know.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered, too stunned to even blink. “I…that…I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for him.”

“I’ve known this guy since we were nineteen. You two are cut from the same cloth,” Trojan said. “You’ve both lived through some serious shit. But what happened with Olivia turned him into a brick wall. When shit gets tough, he shuts down, builds the wall. It’s happened between him and me, too. It just means you need to get handy with a pickax from time to time.”

I mulled over this information. My heart broke for Seven. But it broke for what he was letting die between us, as well.

“I can’t force him to be open with me,” I finally said. “He’s kept so many things from me. His business. His plans. Olivia. I just…I can’t…”

“I get it. But know this. I could tell he was in trouble from the first time I heard him mention your name. The way he talked about you…shit, Jordan, I haven’t heard him talk about anyone like he talks about you. Not even Olivia.”

“In trouble?” I asked with a small laugh.

“Yeah. Code for in love.” He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Just think about it. I want you both to be happy. You guys deserve it.”

I touched his arm. “Thanks, Trojan. You’re really sweet and a good friend. But I can’t make him change his mind. And neither can you.”

I opened the door, signaling the end of our conversation. Trojan knocked on the window for Liam to reenter, then gave him directions on what to do during our lunch date. Once I turned on all my recording devices, I slipped out of the car. Trojan followed me, the two of us gliding along a dark carpeted runner leading up to a swanky gold-plated set of doors beneath the scripted metallic font broadcasting the name: Adobe.

Inside, Eli was waiting for us. I spotted him almost immediately, waiting at a round table in a corner, no windows nearby. Two cocktail glasses were already on the table; one drained, and one that he sipped. I went to Eli while Trojan posted up at a different table nearby—the common bodyguard protocol inside restaurants. Along the way, I glanced around as furtively as possible, looking for cameras, curious gazes, anything that told me this meet-up wasn’t safe.

I tried to blend in as much as possible, but Eli welcomed me with a long, sweaty hug and only spoke in tones a half decibel below shouting. Lunch was a tremendous bore, made tolerable only by the amazing lump crab cakes and beetroot salad. Acquaintances of his cycled through constantly, always when I was mid-bite, and I got the sense that he just wanted to be seen out with me.

Our conversation was stilted and basic. He wasn’t in the mood for shit-talking the Fairchilds, and this wasn’t the place for me to pry. Once the plates were cleared, the check paid, and his third cocktail emptied, I was ready to escape out the secret back door, lest anyone discover me here with Eli.

“When am I going to get you to myself?” he asked, his gaze sliding past my shoulder, presumably toward Trojan, then back to me. “You’ve been toying with me long enough.”

I offered him a coy smile, but on the inside, panic threaded through me. “You want more?”

“I always want more.” He reached across the table, scooping my hand up between his clammy palms. “And you know it.”

“You know how we arranged things…” I started, unsure what else to add. The truth was plain to see. He wanted more, and I didn’t know how much further I could tease things without trapping myself in a spot I didn’t want to be.

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