Page 42 of Traded

The apology hovers on my tongue, and he waits for it.

But I’mnotsorry. Not really. My chin pushes up, and I glare back at Liam with every shred of self-respect I can pull together. “Sorry. Accident.”

It’s not the last I’ll hear of it. But my spine is straight as I stand and walk out, slamming the gate closed behind me and stoppingherfrom following.

For once in my life, I want to be alone.

Chapter thirteen

Scots & Mountains

Whoever is pulling the strings of the universe really isn’t on my side today.

I slow as I approach the coffee cart. Several people are gathered around it. People I’d really rather had fucked off back to their own arena instead of invading ours.

Great.

And they’ve already seen me. I debate turning and facing the wall until they go away, but that’d probably cause more questions than I’d like right now.

Georgio grins at my slow approach. “Top up?”

At least somebody’s happy to see me today. Nodding, I stand on the other side of the cart and do my best to ignore the three alphas watching me. “Thanks, Gio.”

There. That was normal enough. My voice didn’t shake. I’m not crying. My scent isn’t bleeding everywhere, screaminghelp, omega in distress, bring blankets and snacks immediately.

Truthfully, I’m not sure how I feel. I stare down at my stupid shoes, wishing I’d shoved my converse on instead.

I should have been prepared for running. I’ve always thought I was the type of person who dies in the first ten minutes of a horror movie. My decision-making only proves it.

Get the coffee and get out. I’ll hide away in one of the meeting rooms and get some actual work done.

I have to go home at some point, though. And I’m supposed to take Lauren with me.

I fight the urge to pinch the skin between my eyes.

“Still giving yourself cavities seven times a day, I see.”

I didn’t think it was possible for my body to stiffen any further, but I manage it. My eyes linger on the hall, waiting for Liam or Lauren or somebody else to come charging around the corner and yell about how much I’ve fucked up.

I cracked the safety glass.“Not interested in a chat, Mercer.”

And I’m really not interested in a lecture about my sugar consumption.

Boone whistles, the two-note sound uncomfortably familiar. “Just making conversation, Ragdoll. Far more pleasant than awkward silence.”

“Read the room,” someone mutters.

I make eye contact with the Aces goalie. He offers a friendly smile but no hand, pushing it back through rumpled dark red hair instead. “Don’t think we’ve met. Mackenzie Shaw.”

There’s a soft burr in the cadence of his voice that sounds out of place. I jerk my head in acknowledgement. “Rosie Johnson.”

He glances at Boone, and I wonder how much the asshole’s told him about me. Or Carter. Either of us, or if he’s mentioned us at all. “Good to meet you.”

Unlikely. Behind Mackenzie, the giant Katie was cooing about is watching me in silence. Mackenzie jerks a thumb at him. “This is Dimitri Yukov. Don’t mind him, he doesn’t talk much.”

Mountains never do. But the alpha’s cheeks flush faintly, and he nods. The faint tilt of his head makes me tense, and I turn back to Gio, rummaging in my bag for my phone to pay for the coffee he sets on the ledge.

“It’s on me.” My head jerks up at the familiar chirp of the card machine.