Page 114 of Traded

I breathe in again, leaning forward before I catch myself. Embarrassed, I take a step back. What iswrongwith me?

Although I’m taken, not dead. Even I can admit that the Aces goalie looks very, very nice in a tux. I flush deeper when I realize he’s watching me. Little lines have appeared at the corners of his eyes. “Um. Hi, Mac.”

“Good to see you.” He twists to look at the table plan again, a small smile curling the edges of his mouth. “I was looking for our table. You seen it anywhere?”

Swallowing, I lean in closer to look. My arm brushes his as I reach out my finger, placing it gently over his name beside the rest of the Aces. “There. Twenty-three.”

And as far away from us as they can get. Clearlysomeonesaw the Sponsor Day footage. That jerks me out of whatever weirdness has me leaning closer, and I turn my head to look for any sign of his pack.

Particularly his irritating pack lead.

“Don’t worry.” The quiet rumble brings my face back to his. Mac looks down at me, and my throat dries. “He’s keeping his distance tonight. Doesn’t want any trouble.”

“Never stopped him before.” The tart response slips out before I can stop it. Deciding I don’t particularly care, I fold my arms. “He caused enough of it on Sponsor Day.”

“For you?” Mac asks. His arm grows tense beside mine.

I pin my gaze on the table plan, my throat growing tighter and my body flinching at the phantom feel of a strike. “Don’t worry about me, Mac. I’m fine.”

The flinch doesn’t go unnoticed. Mac turns to me fully, his mouth opening. “Rosie—”

“Shaw,” Benji says easily. I jump out of my skin. “Need to steal Rosie, if that’s okay?”

Mac offers his hand, and Benji takes it easily, much to my surprise. “No worries. Have a good night, both.”

I feel Mac’s eyes on my back as Benji steers me toward our table. “Et tu, brute? Is this how I find out you’re friends with the enemy?”

His amusement is clear. “Shaw’s a great goalie. We did some youth skills camps together.”

“What, back in the stone age?” I make a show of looking around. “Howdoesit feel to be home?”

His finger jabs into my side, and I snicker. Benji’s hand hovers around my back as he steers us past a group of Titans staff.Gabe waves, and I wave back. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

We reach our table, and I take in the empty seats with a raised brow. “Well, this is cozy.”

He pulls out the chair with my name tag, and I collapse into it, eyeing up who my neighbors are. Carter’s name is on my left, Jonas my right. Benji takes the next seat over from Jonas’s name, unbuttoning his tux jacket and turning to face me. “Is everything alright with Carter?”

“Carter?” Frowning, I crane my neck to look at him. I spot him ensconced in the middle of a player group, his hands moving and a grin on his face. My mouth slips open as I watch him burst into laughter, clapping a bemused Noah on the shoulder. “I’d say he seems unusually perky, actually. He obviously likes charity auctions more than I realized.”

“Maybe.” Benji is watching him too. “And you?”

Not this again. I hold up my wine in a silent toast. “I have wine, so all is fine. I don’t make the rules.”

He reaches for one of the bottles of merlot placed in the middle of the table and tops me up. I beam at him. “Thanks, Gramps. What time’s your curfew?”

“I swear to fucking god, Ro—”

“Benji!”

His face runs through fifty shades of grey, settling on oatmeal as Katie dives on him from behind. Ethan taps his finger on her shoulder, the words amused. “Let the goalie go before he suffocates, baby. We kind of need him.”

“Oh!” Katie pulls back, studying a choking Benji. “Sorry, sweetpea.”

Sweetpea?Benji mouths, his expression unreadable but possibly resembling horror as Katie slips into the seat beside him. Ethan joins us, followed by Noah, Dylan and Mason in rapid succession

My pack is still missing, Carter appears to be doing his best impression of a comedy host, but there’s no sign of Liam or Jonas. Pushing to my feet, I try to look over the crowd.

Jonas has homed in on his scent match.