CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
JORDAN
“I got my small recorder…the tiny recorder…the anal beads recorder…” I muttered to myself as I rushed around my living room, checking and double checking that I had what I needed for Eli’s party. The anal beads recorder wasn’t actually for sticking up someone’s ass, but the way they hung on the slender cord looked a lot like a gift in somebody’s sexy toy party bag. I slipped them around my neck, opting to mask them among my other silvery, glittering necklaces.
Perfectly hidden.
Trojan sent Liam to pick me up, planning to meet up with me in front of Eli’s house before we went in. I checked my phone—it was almost eight p.m. Instead of heading to the club on a Friday night, I was heading into the lion’s den. Nervousness churned inside me. I was worried about what “more” he would request from me tonight and whether I’d be able to dodge it and still get the information I wanted.
My brothers were a common conversational topic in elite circles, but it was mostly gossip and speculation. Eli hadn’t blatantly confessed to interfering in their case since that first party that Seven attended with me. I tried not to get too frustrated that Eli hadn’t opened up with the same amount of detail since then, especially since I’d been recording every breath, grunt, and fart. I knew it was just a matter of time. And I hoped tonight’s house party would be the turning point.
Even though Seven won’t be there with you.
I had grown to love Trojan—but he was no Seven. My body and my heart still craved Seven, even if he was content to act like nothing ever happened between us. I hated how much it hurt me. I hated that I’d let him in at all.
Trojan said Seven missed me, too. But talk was cheap. If Seven really missed me and believed we had something, then he’d have shown me by now.
I tried to push these thoughts out of my head before I got into a sadness spiral. I needed to be on point for this evening at Eli’s, and starting it off moping about Seven was not the way to shine. I made one final assessment of my purse—microphones, lipstick, and phone in place—and headed downstairs to meet Liam in front of my building.
Outside, it was already dark. Liam was in the SUV at the curb with his hazard lights flashing. My teal heels clicked against the sidewalk as I hurried to slip into the back seat, tugging my curve-hugging slate gray dress down over my thighs.
“Hi, Liam.” I buckled up as he pulled into traffic, then smoothed my high ponytail, a strategic choice, in case Eli wanted me on the pole tonight. “Back on chauffeur duty, I see.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He grinned at me through the rearview mirror. His charming good looks were always a mild surprise when I saw him. “Just doing my time before I get a fun assignment, like guarding you.”
“Oh, you think you’ll be assigned to me?” I executed a haughty hair flip. “Gonna have to train a little harder to keep up with this mess.”
He laughed as we worked our way through the stop-and-go traffic. “I wouldn’t mind the excitement.”
“I’m sure Seven won’t keep you doing the boring stuff for long.” I settled back into my seat, watching the world creep past the tinted window. “The Fairchilds always have something interesting going on.”
The mention of my brothers made me think about Cora. She had left my text unanswered for two days now. I could physically feel the rift that had cracked and spread between us. And that unexpected distance between my bonus sister and me was even harder to deal with since I’d also lost Seven.
My phone vibrated with a text. I slipped it out of my handbag.
TROJAN: I used the pickax.
I frowned down at the screen for a minute then stuffed my phone back in my purse, mulling over his comment. I was so tired of missing Seven, of thinking about him, of craving him. Even if I wanted to try to force Seven to let me in, when would I have the chance?
Liam pulled up in front of Eli’s house. Per protocol, I waited for Trojan to escort me from the car to the front door. I unclicked my seatbelt, giving myself a once over before heading out.
The back seat handle clicked; the door swung open. I slipped out of the car, swinging my gaze up to Trojan. But as I did, a few things registered as off.
The hand waiting for mine was rougher than Trojan’s. The stature, much taller. The outfit, much sleeker.
It took a few seconds for my brain to catch up with my eyes. I tipped my head back, drinking in the dark gaze of the man I’d been longing to lay eyes on.
My mouth parted, and my voice completely evaporated.
“Jordan.” Seven’s deep rumble lit a fire inside me at the same time it soothed my every aching nerve. I used his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. He pushed the door shut behind me, tapping it once. Liam pulled away.
I swallowed hard, looking around us on the sidewalk. Trojan was nowhere to be found. I pulled my leather jacket tighter around me. And that’s when I found my voice. And my anger.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped.
“There was a change in plans,” he said simply, his heavy gaze not wavering from me for even a second. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind that neutral mask he wore. But I ached to know.
“Where’s my guard?” I asked, glowering at him. “I’d hate to waste your time with something so frivolousas me.”
“I told you. Change of plans. I’m on duty tonight. Can we proceed?” His voice held an edge, which tasted like honey to me. God, it was a relief to be near him again and basking in this energy that pulsed between us, even when I was angry, even when we were distant.
“Besides,” he added, “you’re not frivolous.” He gestured toward the front door, and I walked alongside him, crossing my arms over my chest, like the gesture might contain the emotion inside that was desperate to burst out.
“Well, if that isn’t the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” I muttered.
He sent me a sharp look. “You’re the most important thing there is, Jordan. Not just to your brothers. To me.”
I rang the doorbell, looking over at him quickly before it swung open and Eli’s attendant greeted us. I gave him an air kiss—Eli’s staff were what I liked best about his place—and glided into the foyer, spotting Eli through the crowd in one of the front rooms.
“Oh, I see Eli,” I announced, to no one in particular. My act was beginning for the evening. I slid my leather coat off my shoulders and handed it to an attendant nearby. “I’ll go say hi.”
I didn’t make it two steps before a strong hand caught my wrist. Seven stilled me, leaning in close.
“Can we talk?”
I shook him off. “Not now. I’m busy.”
He angled himself in front of me, looming in my path. “Let me rephrase. We’re going to talk.”
“Not now,” I hissed, glaring at him before brushing past him, adding, “Your time to talk came and went.”
I hurried into the party, lifting my hand to catch Eli’s attention. He grinned across the room at me, his green eyes already glassy. I rushed over to him, throwing my arms around his neck.
“There you are,” I murmured into his ear.
“Been waiting for you, gorgeous.” I felt his hand at the small of my back and, for the first time, I didn’t care. I just hoped Seven was watching extra carefully. Not because I was in danger. Because I wanted to piss off Seven in every way possible.
“I’m finally here,” I purred before kissing his cheek. I could feel a portion of the breathable air in the room disappear, likely Seven’s fists tightening as he watched us, though I couldn’t see him to confirm. Eli smiled even wider, slinging an arm over my shoulders.
“Let’s make the rounds,” he said. “And we need to get you a drink…”
I tagged along, tucked under his arm, as we drifted through the party, much like last time. We mingled with politicians, paused to chat with Eli’s friends, and I watched as he took occasional lines from passing mirrored trays, downing whatever drink or shot a server handed to him. I drank my white wine slowly, taking as many peeks at my bodyguard as I could.
Seven stayed stoic and looming against the far wall of whatever room we were in. A couple of times our gazes met, and my body was consumed with shivers. I hated how his being here was exactly what I’d been desperate for. He wanted to talk. Well, so did I. But only after he suffered first.
I stuck extra close to Eli. When he came in for a peck on the cheek or more, I didn’t shy away. I played up the bubbly lover part as needed, and from Eli’s constant grin, I could tell he was lapping this shit up.
After an hour or so at his side, I needed to pee. I disentangled myself from him, slipping away to the bathroom. Seven stepped out after me, keeping his distance as I hurried down the hall to the bathroom. Before I could shut the door, Seven was in the doorframe.
I frowned. “Worried I forgot how to pee without you?”
He stepped inside, causing me to stumble backward. He caught me by the wrist.
“I need a few minutes with you. Alone.”
“Does it have to be when I’m on the brink of emptying my bladder?”
He pushed the door shut behind him then leaned against it with a smirk. “I’ll wait.”
“Oh. Inside. Thanks.” I huffed, shuffling over to the toilet as I lifted my skirt.
“Not like I haven’t seen it before,” he replied coolly.
“Yeah, well, I’m not in the habit of peeing in front of my close protection officers,” I snapped as I sat on the toilet and did my business. The tinkling filled the bathroom air, seeming aggressively loud as his attention sizzled on me. It sounded like I was peeing off the top of a building, for God’s sake. I sighed, willing this to be over. I’d never had such intense focus on my urination before.
“Do you have to stare at me?” I finally asked, tearing off some toilet paper.
“Just getting you back for all that staring you liked to do in the mornings.”
My cheeks flushed at the intimate mention. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I was trapped in a bathroom with him, peeing. This could only be intimate.
I stood, rearranged my dress, and stepped to the sink, careful to avoid his eyes. As I washed my hands, his gaze burned through me. I saw his approach in the mirror.
“Don’t worry, I know proper handwashing procedure,” I muttered as he filled the space at my side. I dried my hands on one of the disposable hand towels set out, tossing it in the trash can. When I turned, I found the brick wall of his chest.
“Please, Jordan. Let’s talk.”
In one swift movement he had me backed up against the edge of the countertop. I tipped my head to look at him, both eager to deny him whatever he wanted, and desperate to fall headfirst into him. This close, it was hard not to touch him. To seek a kiss. To remember all the reasons I’d fallen so hard for him in the first place.
“About what?”
He rested his palms on the countertop on either side of me, angling himself slightly so we were more eye level. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Then he did it again. He was struggling to speak. He was nervous. I’d never seen him like this before.
“I’m sorry,” he finally blurted.
“Oh, God, are you about to give me more bad news?” He watched me heavily, something foreboding in his gaze. “Don’t tell me. Trojan is leaving me too, now. Or maybe Chico quit?”
He shook his head, searching my face. “No. It’s not that. I’m sorry for how I treated you. For acting like a total jerk.”
I blinked hard, almost unable to process his words. “What?”
“I’m sorry that I rejected what was growing between us.” He drew a shaky breath. His nervousness was so endearing I wanted to take a bite of him. “I didn’t do it because I didn’t want you. I promise. I…have never wanted anyone more than I want you, Jordan.”
Want. Present tense. He still felt the same way. I sat, stunned, as he went on.
“I rejected the idea of us because I…I was terrified of where it would lead. Because I knew it would…could…lead to something…huge.”
My fingers curled under the ledge of the countertop in an effort to stop them from curling into the front of his shirt. Emotion clamored for release, tightening my throat, making my vision go a little blurry. I was waiting for the “but.” There had to be one.
“I’m a man of my word. I promised a certain level of conduct to your brothers, and I fell short. Your brothers made it clear from the beginning that there would be consequences if anything happened between us while you were living with me,” he added. “So I thought the solution was to resign. Then we could be together. But Damian came to me and asked for heightened security before the trial, and I realized I couldn’t ditch them in their time of need. It was a moral clusterfuck. And I was terrified. It’s just made me shut down.”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and when he opened them again, the clarity there seared through me. “I just felt like if I opened up and told you about everything, including what happened with Olivia, then it would be over. I’d lose my job, lose my business, lose my heart a second time, ruin everything. But I see now that if I don’t have you, I’m still going to lose my heart and ruin everything. Because you already have my heart. And I…I don’t know, I’ll figure out what comes next. I never planned on meeting you or falling in love with you. But that’s what happened, and I’m done denying it. Please, Jordan. Will you give me a second chance?”
I was so stunned I forgot to breathe. I watched him with wide eyes until my brain started working again. Brattiness front and center.
“Well, I don’t know about that, Seven,” I tried to be defiant, but even I could hear the quake in my voice. “You’ll probably need to ask my handler, Trojan, for permission.”
“I already have,” Seven shot back. “Trojan would die a happy man if we admitted everything and made it official. He’s been begging me to stop being a miserable asshole for weeks.”
I tried not to show how much I relished every word that came out of his mouth. Internally, I was turning into a puddle of goo for this man. I could never forget the intensity of his dark gaze on me, the way he drank me in. He only saw me. Only wanted me.
And however defiant I acted, he was the only man for me.
I sniffed, straightening my back. “Well, I need to think about it.”
He dipped his chin, gritting his teeth. “Jordan.” That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, and I loved knowing this.
“I’ll have an answer for you tomorrow,” I flipped my ponytail over my shoulder, trying to signal the end of this conversation. But he didn’t back away. He only drew closer.
“Don’t be a brat.”
I couldn’t fight the evil grin. “Only way I know how to be.”
He leaned closer, his lips a breath away from mine. “Then let me rephrase. Don’t be a brat without me. Be my brat.”
His words sank into me like caramel drizzle in foam, the sweetest treat that had me dizzy and flying high. His lips were against mine then, slow and seeking. The masculine heat of him sank into me. My head tipped back, and suddenly his warm, rough hands were at my face. One hand slipped down my neck, resting against my collarbone. My body arched closer to him, needing to close the small distance between us, as our tongues danced and our kisses grew deeper, hungrier.
I curled my fingers into the front of his shirt, a deep shiver of satisfaction winding up my spine. When we broke for air, I looked up drunkenly at him.
“Trojan’s on data review tonight, isn’t he?” I whispered.
Seven nodded, biting back a silly grin.
“Hi, Trojan,” I said with a laugh, to the thin air. “Hope you enjoyed that make-out session.”
“He wants us to have another,” Seven said, dipping down again.
I tilted my head, pressing a finger to his lips. “Hey. Rules are rules. I said I’d let you know tomorrow. You’ve made me miserable for weeks. I need the next twenty-four hours to assess whether I need you in my life.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I gasped softly, the steel heat of him overwhelmingly, unbearably right.
“Twenty-four hours,” he whispered. “Not a second more.”