Page 73 of The Price of Forever

“Let me help you, Oh Drunk One.” The lid popped off and she portioned out a dosage for me. Then she filled a glass of water for me. I swallowed the pills in a big gulp.

“Thanks,” I rasped out.

“You should go back to bed.” She flicked off the burner and grabbed my upper arms, navigating me toward my bedroom. “I’ll get you all tucked in and then bring you some goodies.”

I could only respond on the inside. Externally, I was unable to do anything but put one foot in front of the other. In my bedroom, I tumbled back into bed. Everything inside me hurt. Jordan went around tidying up: picking up my strewn clothes from the night before and slinging them over the back of a chair, plugging in my cellphone, and bringing me a Gatorade and more painkillers for later.

“All right, Seven. I think you’re all set.” She booped me on the nose before she left. I could only smile on the inside until my eyes closed and I drifted back to sleep.

When I awoke again, I could tell it was much later. This time, my phone read noon. When I tried to move, there was less screaming from my internal organs. I chugged the Gatorade, then swung my legs over the side of the bed. Progress. I rubbed my eyes, stood up, and pulled on some sweatpants.

The first time in my adult history that I’d skipped an early morning working during the week, and I had Trojan to thank. My phone screen showed plenty of missed texts from that lovable fucker, including a couple of missed calls. He had to know what he’d caused. The last text he sent simply said: Alcohol poisoning or nah?

I wrote back: You tried your best but failed again. I’m alive.

I pocketed the phone and headed to the bathroom to take a piss. Out in the living room, Jordan was in the kitchen again, now working on lunch. This time, I could absorb more details, like her messy bun and the wispy, sparkling strand of hair that had escaped next to her face. The simple black sports bra and boy short bottoms she wore told me she’d likely been practicing at the pole. Her little bare feet were adorable, toenails colored cerulean. Her luscious tops of her breasts in her skimpy lounge bra begged me to bury my face there, but instead I just lifted my fingers at her in a salute. This is how it has to be.

She looked delighted as I came into the kitchen. “Well, look at you! Wearing pants, like a real, live human.”

“Humans can just wear underwear.”

“Not when they’re built like a Greek god.”

I smirked, heading for the kettle. “That’s sweet of you. Can I use that quote on my professional page?”

She laughed, knocking her hip into mine as I filled the kettle. “You feeling better?”

“1000%. Trojan almost fucking killed me last night.”

“Sounds like a good friend.” She offered wry smile. “I didn’t even hear you when you came home. And I was up pretty late.”

“I don’t even remember coming home,” I admitted. “I know Legs drove me, because he’s the last outgoing call in my phone.”

“You finally ready to eat?” She washed her hands in the sink, jerking her head toward the stove.

“Inherently prepared from the first day of life.”

She smirked. “You must be feeling better. I made some paninis. But I also saved the breakfast burrito I made earlier. Your pick.”

“Ooh. Panini sounds good.”

She sent me a sexy smile as she brushed past me, knocking me with her hip again. “Why do you have to make it sound so seductive?”

“Panini is not a seductive word.”

“You could say anything in your just-woke-up voice and it’s seductive, okay?”

I reached for a teabag from the cabinet. “So I’m a Greek god and I’ve got a seductive voice. Anything else you’d like to share to boost my ego?”

“You’re the best kisser I’ve ever met.”

I fought a smile as I ripped open the tea bag and placed it in an empty mug. “Thanks. Ego officially inflated.”

“Would you say it’s at about a seven right now?” She looked at me expectantly.

“Higher.”

“Then you’re going to need to apply for a legal name change. I should have known—your name is referencing your ego, isn’t it? Is your new name Nine now?”

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