Page 69 of The Price of Forever

“Yeah, it turns out I’m not a really good spy.” I exhaled, realizing I’d stepped right into more shit than I’d anticipated. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting anyway—show up to his date and plop myself on Seven’s lap, claiming him as my own? Pushing away his Tinder hook-up and threatening her with legal action? This was all so stupid. And in my quest to claim Seven as my own, I’d stumbled upon the most unnerving possibility as all: he saw me as just a stripper to pass around to friends.

Fuck, I needed that tequila.

“I fucked up,” I muttered, my head dropping into my hands.

“Honey, it’s okay. I’ve fucked up a time or two as well. I won’t even tell you about the guy I dated who made me believe he was a French millionaire, but really was pulling an Anna Delvey. We’re here, we’ll have some crabcakes and get drunk. Sounds like a good night out if you ask me.” When I didn’t seem to be soothed, Roxie added, “Besides, we do crazy things when men look like that.” She tipped her head toward the end of the bar. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I thought there was something there.”

I perked up a little. “You did?”

“Yeah. I know he’s like, making sure you’re safe and all, but I dunno.” She shrugged, toying with a lock of her platinum blonde hair. “Seems like he’s got the hots for you too.”

At the far end of the restaurant, Chico and Seven were locked in a tense conversation. Chico nodded on occasion, frowning.

“I think Chico might be getting fired because of me,” I whispered, just as the bartender returned with our shots. Guilt cascaded through me.

“I’m sure we could convince him to reconsider.”

“You don’t know Seven like I do.”

“But two pairs of tits are better than one,” she said optimistically.

All I could do was laugh. Roxie had a way of easing life’s stressors. I’d seen her do it with all the girls at the club. I squeezed her arm, sending her a warm smile. She made me think it might be okay to open up sometimes.

“You’re really great, you know that?”

“Cheers to that,” Roxie said. We clinked our shot glasses carefully, then tipped the tequila down our throats. Faces puckered, we both grabbed a lime slice on the plate left by the bartender.

“That was smooth,” she said with a cough.

“Mm-hmm.” I looked toward the end of the bar. Seven sliced a hand through the air, his jaw flexing. He and Chico exchanged a few more words, then Chico returned, looking perplexed. He slid onto the bar seat wordlessly.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

Chico expelled a sigh. “Sure hope so.”

I rolled my lips in, determined not to let Chico take the fall for this. This was 100 percent my fault—my diabolical plan, my unexpected unraveling. I could practically imagine what Seven had told his friend:

Ask for the special move; she’ll hump your dick and almost fuck you.

I reached for the second shot, offering to split it with Roxie, who declined. I took the whole shot, enjoying the warmth and buzz.

It wasn’t long before the tipsiness took over. When the group of people sitting between me and Seven stood to leave, I seized my opportunity. I tapped Roxie’s arm, tipping my head toward the end of the bar. She followed me when I shifted seats, leaving no chairs between me and Seven. Chico looked like he hated the idea almost as much as Seven did.

I gasped, bringing my hand to my chest in mock surprise. “Seven?” The tequila had bitch-slapped me now. I was equal parts drunk, hurt, and confused. I already knew this wouldn’t end well. “I can’t believe you’re here! What a surprise!”

His friend’s gaze slid between me and Seven’s stony face. Seven’s jaw flexed as he stared at the beer in front of him.

“And you brought a friend?” I stuck my hand out, right through Seven’s field of vision. “I’m Jordan. You look so familiar though—haven’t we met before?”

His friend shifted uncomfortably as he shook my hand. “I’m Trojan. Nice to see you again, Jordan.”

“Ah!” I snapped my fingers, glancing at Seven. I estimated he was seething by now, but I couldn’t stop this train. “You called yourself Troy. We had such a fun time in the VIP room, didn’t we?”

Trojan coughed as he sipped at his beer, then he nodded. “Yep. Fun time.”

I turned myself fully toward Seven. He dragged his gaze over to me, the fire in his eyes a warning. “That was so nice of you to buy a VIP room session for your friend,” I said pointedly. “I bet you two always share things between each other, huh? Like just trading back and forth.”

Trojan cleared his throat, signaling the bartender.

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