Page 63 of The Price of Forever

Trojan was certain that my fucking a random girl would be the solution to my problems. But I knew the truth. The only possible solutions were either getting Jordan out of my sight or getting her back into my arms, where she fucking belonged.

I knew how to fall in line, to follow commands, but when it came to Jordan, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could convince both my heart and my cock to stick to the rules.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

JORDAN

Last night’s late shift transitioned into an extremely early pick-up shift at the coffee house. Both Seven and I were bleary eyed as we raced down the stairwell that morning—it was a tie. I needed extra espresso at work and even comped Seven’s Earl Grey. I caught his eye too many times across the coffee shop as he worked on his laptop, curiosity burning through me.

“Admit it,” Mitchell hissed in my ears as he caught me lingering by the sugar and creamer station. “You and Mr. Bodyguard are dating.”

I turned, startled. Mitchell wore a haughty smirk as he dropped off a sani-bucket full of cleaning liquid.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I’d been careful to dance around the topic of my having a bodyguard at the coffee shop. At Gemstones, they knew Seven as a protector type, but not here. Seven just had the vibe.

“You two show up together, leave together. You probably live together.”

My cheeks heated up. With the rotating shifts at the coffee shop, not every coworker noticed that Seven was always lurking during my shifts. But Mitchell had been eying Seven from day one. I sure as hell wouldn’t tell him—or anyone—what was happening under the surface. Admitting I lived with Seven now would just raise a billion follow-up questions: He’s paid to protect you? Who’s paying for that? What kind of family needs to protect you from something? Protect you from what? What family did you say you’re part of again?

How could I answer? Even I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I’d just had a heartwarming family dinner with my brothers a few nights ago. Seven felt like both hired protector and impossibly sexy best friend. Nothing made sense.

“We’ve been…talking.” That was at least easier to admit than the tangled truth.

Mitchell gasped, his hand shooting out to grab my arm. “Shut up!”

“It’s new,” I said. “Kinda hush-hush.”

“Oh my god, I won’t say a word.” He mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. “But tell me, how is the sex?”

I laughed, my cheeks flaming now. I could see Seven across the room, and his gaze—electric hot and tender—met mine. It was as if he knew what we were talking about.

“I need to get back to work,” I said, suddenly feeling dizzy.

“I want details, missy,” Mitchell said over his shoulder as he sauntered back behind the counter. “When you’re ready.”

I’d never be ready. Getting vulnerable with people was about the hardest thing in the world for me to do. Once my brothers fucked off to New York and then Kaylee died, I shut down more than ever. There had been too much grief and confusion for me to process back then, but the inability to open up became a habit as a result. A familiar tool—or weapon—when things got too hard.

Other girls my age, with my history, might have shared their story with anyone who would listen. They might have sought boyfriend after boyfriend to fill the void in their hearts and between their legs. Kaylee had been that way. But my pain pushed me in the opposite direction.

I’d been chronically single since the pivotal moments in my early adulthood taught me that I was better off alone. I’d had a fucked-up childhood, but even I knew that boyfriends weren’t supposed to push themselves on you or into you when you said no.

My stomach took a nosedive as familiar feelings crowded my body. Prickling forearms. Sweaty palms. A deep and insistent urge to disappear entirely. And all of this because I merely considered the idea of admitting the truth to Mitchell.

I found Seven’s gaze across the coffee shop again, and this time he looked concerned. He pushed up out of his seat and crossed the room in a few powerful strides. He was at my side a moment later, neck bent to seek out my gaze.

“Are you okay?”

I tried to soothe the warring sensations inside me. Insinuating to Mitchell that I was dating had catalyzed this chain reaction. Even lying about having a boyfriend was too much for me.

But Seven’s presence at my side was the balm to soothe the turmoil.

“You looked like you were going to fall over,” Seven said.

“I’m fine,” I forced out, my lips dry. “I, uh…” I brought a hand to my forehead, rubbing my fingertips back and forth.

“Did he say something to you?”

I swallowed hard, opening my mouth but no sound coming out.

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