Page 59 of The Price of Forever

I wasn’t trying to copy; the woman knew what tasted good.

Once we got our steaming bowls, we retired to a bar-height table with two stools. We slid into place, her eyes practically shooting stars as we laid out our silverware.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she whispered.

“Since two days ago, when we were here last?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t sass me. I don’t want your sass ruining my rice noodles.”

“That wasn’t sass, it was fact.”

I could see her trying to fight a smile. “Zip your lips.” She shifted in her seat, our knees knocking beneath the table. I fought to ignore the warmth that shot through me. She didn’t even seem to notice as she dug into her food; so I did the same, ignoring the way her knee settled against mine and stayed there.

It was like the buzzing of an electric fence. A dangerous, fatal current below the surface. Everything would be fine if we just left it alone. Obeyed the safety procedures. Followed protocol.

I hated how much I had to remind myself of this.

We inhaled our food in record time. When she got up to dump her empty bowl, an icy breeze whooshed past where our legs had been touching. I tried not to notice. She offered to take my empty bowl, and I nodded, yanking my gaze off her receding frame and to my phone.

Trojan had been texting during our dinner. He was at the Hyatt and ready for the next move.

I typed out a quick response.

SEVEN: I’ll call you in an hour and explain the agenda.

TROJAN: Sounds like you’ve got something saucy in store.

SEVEN: Hope you brought a ladle for that sauce in addition to the butter knife.

The trip to Gemstones passed quickly, thanks to the pitstops along the way and at the park nearby to hunt Pokémon, followed by an overstuffed train and the fact that there was a man in a full Easter Bunny suit—despite it being early October—taking nips from a flask and shouting out bad advice whenever someone dared give him a side-eye.

Once Jordan was safely inside the club, I slipped into the quiet alcove near the bathrooms and called Trojan.

He picked up immediately, his coarse voice prompting a smile before I’d even digested his words. “Is this the call where you finally explain why you put me up in a swank ass hotel like I’m your secret lover?”

“Some things don’t need to be explained by anything other than you’re my friend. And you deserve the best.”

He snorted. “Bullshit. The last time you footed the bill for our hotel it was a Super Eight.”

“Times are different. I’m a businessman now.” I could feel the grin blooming across my face. Trojan likely earned at the same level as me. He’d had just as many high-profile protection jobs and had been employed by a Fairchild or two in his life. People like them weren’t afraid to pay a premium for the best.

“I guess that means drinks are on you tonight, huh?”

“Of course. Whatever you want, Trojie.”

“Don’t start with the stupid fucking nicknames,” he warned. “Unless you really plan to take me as your secret lover.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“That’s right, because you’ve got a hard-on for your client.”

I cleared my throat, wishing he was in front of me so I could punch him in the gut for that comment. “Listen, I’m going to send you an address—”

“Oh, I love it when you get all CIA operative on me.”

“—and I need you to show up and act like you don’t know me.”

His cackle prompted a laugh on my end, too. “Fine. Go on.”

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