23. Silence is the New Style
Chapter twenty-three
Silence is the New Style
“Honestly, I can swap.” Lauren hovers in the doorway, looking embarrassed. “If you want.”
“It’s fine.”
Fuck, I’m sick of that word. I might get it tattooed across my forehead. “It’s probably better this way anyway.”
Because somebody mixed up the room allocation.
And now Lauren is nestled comfortably in the interconnecting, specially designed suite which links up Liam and Jonas’s rooms. It’s adorable.
Built-in low lighting, fabric acoustic walls, a floor mattress, mini fridges filled with omegas in mind.
I’m pretty sure there’s a luxury nesting vending machine if I remember from last year, though all the hotels start to blur together after a while.
But this room is nice too. A large, queen-sized bed sits against the far wall, topped with soft-looking blankets. Floor-length windows on either side look out across Chicago’s darkening skies.
And Liam isn’t on the other side of the wall, metaphorically and physically breathing down my neck.
Of all the shit I could be angry about—if I was allowed—this one doesn’t top the list. Lauren looks concerned that we might have a repeat of the Great Hair Pull, and I wave my hand between us.
Practically breezy. “Don’t worry about it.
Enjoy. The blanket machine is incredible. ”
She doesn’t look reassured. If anything, she only looks more concerned, and my lips press together as I turn back to the room, the words coming out flat. “It’s a room. Doesn’t matter.”
“Rosie!”
Lauren keeps at a safe hair-pulling-free distance as I stick my head out of the doorway, searching for the source of the call. “Here.”
Carter jogs down the dark green hall. “Why are you all the way down here? We’ve got half the damn team between us.”
“Room mix-up.” I don’t look at Lauren. “We’re only here for two nights. This is fine for me.”
At this point, someone could set me on fire and I’d die telling everyone I was fine.
“Excuse me.” Lauren shifts on her feet. “I’m… uh. Going to find Liam.”
I hope she finds him before he finds me. This morning’s session was brutal, Liam muttering bark after bark into my skin as if he could cover us for the entire trip.
“Room’s nice.” Carter glances inside before returning his attention to me.
There’s a faint glaze across his eyes, as if he hasn’t woken up fully from the sleep I had to shake him from when we landed.
“I’m having too many late nights with all this shit.
Gonna duck out of team dinner tonight and get room service. You mind?”
“I might do the same. The bath is huge.”
His expression is torn between amusement and relief. “Wine and fries in your immediate future?”
“You would be correct.” I lean against the doorway and try not to wriggle with excitement. “How are you shaping up for tomorrow’s game?”
Carter steps into me. I tip my face up to his, closing my eyes when he leans in until our foreheads touch.
“Petrified,” he confesses softly. “I scraped through the last assessment by the skin of my teeth. Cubs are a strong team.”
My fingers slip into his hair. “Martin wouldn’t let you play if he didn’t think you were up to it, right? You passed, which is what matters. You never have enough faith in yourself.”
“I don’t need to. You’ve got plenty for both of us.” He inhales as my nails scrape his neck gently. “Fuck, that feels good. When the season’s done, we need a holiday. I’m thinking an island somewhere. Sun, sand, sleep.”
Carter wiggles his eyebrows, and a laugh is coaxed from my chest. “And other things?”
“Lots of things,” he murmurs. “All of them to do with you. Missing you, Ro.”
I nudge into him until I can press my cheek to his chest, against his heartbeat. It feels slower than normal. “I’m right here. We could go back to your room. Talk. Have some dinner.”
As I say the words, I realize how desperately I need that. Need him.
“You have no idea how much I want that,” he says heavily. “But Mina’s got me on a tight schedule. The pills will knock me out so I can get some decent sleep. Coach was pretty clear on my orders. Why don’t you head down with the others?”
“Nah,” I say eventually, forcing a smile. It’s not a rejection—not in so many words. But it feels like one. Another little dagger in my chest. “Wine and fries in the bath will call my name if you’re not going to.”
“Sounds like heaven. I have a lot to make up for once we lift that cup.” His lips find mine. Softly, brushing my lower lip. Carter makes a sound in the back of his throat and pulls away. “I should go before I change my mind. Coach will have my head if I mess with their plans after everything.”
He swoops in for another kiss. This one is longer. His lips move over mine, his fingers finding the skin at my lower back and gently pressing until I curve into him. When we pull away, both of us are breathing heavily. “Going now. Night, baby.”
“Night.” I watch him head to his own room. He turns around before going inside, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Stop tempting me,” he calls with laughter in his voice. “I’ll sic Viktor on you for messing with his center.”
I give an exaggerated shiver that’s not entirely feigned. Their defense coach is not someone to fuck with. “What, me? I’m hanging out. Loitering.”
I rub my foot against my leg. “Little lonely down here, though.”
I push out my lower lip, and the faint growl rumbles directly into my bones, invigorating them. “I swear, Ro—”
“Jesus fuck, you animals.” Ryker shoves his head out of a room halfway between us. “We can smell the pheromones from here. No fair, Cap. Coach said no knotting before the game.”
I choke on the laugh that covers my disappointment. “He’s behaving himself.”
“Unfortunately.” Carter gives Ryker the finger. “No partying tonight. Save it for after St. Louis.”
Ryker’s pout is bigger than mine. Grinning, I slip back inside my room, listening to the chirping.
My smile slowly fades as I take in the empty space.
More laughter echoes from the hall on the other side of the door. Jonas’s deep chuckle, Liam’s murmur. My hand slips to my phone, but the screen is dark.
No messages. Nothing to ask where I am, or if I’m coming to dinner.
And nothing from Liam to pull me back into line.
I’d choose a night alone a hundred times over against another bark session.
The complimentary bubbled bath smells like jasmine, and I pour the whole damned bottle into the hot running water, begrudgingly adding a dollop of de-scenter. There’s more of that in my bag than anything else.
When my phone buzzes, I freeze. But the only message is from Katie.
Where are you? Come to dinner, bitch tits.
The lie slips out easily as my fingers tap.
Headache. See you tomorrow.
It’s getting easier to lie. To the team. To my pack. To Carter. To everyone, including myself. Liam was right about that much. The bark helps.
Catching the edge of my reflection in the mirror, I lean in. My lips are chapped and pale. The circles beneath my eyes are dark enough to disappear into. Even my hair looks limp, the red muted.
I look like a shadow. Some freaky, fucked-up wraith.
No wonder Benji noticed.
My hands grip the marble basin, the bath running behind me as I duck my head. The bark nudges me, pushing me to move. To go downstairs, to put on a performance and make him believe everything’s alright.
But I’d have to behave beneath Liam’s assessing gaze, fighting to make myself small enough that I disappear entirely.
Or sit opposite Jonas and watch him try not to watch Lauren while failing miserably. Maybe he’d ignore me completely. Or he’d pass the salt like we’re barely acquaintances, while I smile for everyone else’s benefit and feel dead on the inside.
My smiling alpha doesn’t smile at me anymore.
He smiles for Lauren. For the pack. For the team and the fans and the cameras.
But not for me.
He looks past me if he’d rather not look my way at all. As if my very existence makes him uncomfortable, when it should be the opposite.
I don’t find any comfort in Jonas anymore. And I’m certain he doesn’t find any in me. He and I… we’re not working anymore.
My alpha isn’t mine anymore.
A wound slashes open around my ribcage that I can’t reach. Can’t stem. Hemorrhaging three years of memories and the life that I thought we were building together, only for Jonas to stop trying without bothering to tell me.
My hand searches out my chest, flattening over my stuttering heartbeat.
I still have Liam and Carter.
Liam is still trying, if his fucked-up plan counts. But he’s at least trying to keep us together. To keep me together, even if I want to shred his face for it.
At least he’s still fighting to keep me around. I’m not sure Jonas would notice if I disappeared from their lives tomorrow.
What does it mean for me if one of my pack no longer wants me in it?
I don’t know what my own relationship looks like anymore. What my future looks like. There’s only here, and now, and Liam’s orders weighing me down until every step feels like dragging cement.
Tears burst free as if I’ve been collecting them up, my body keeping them hostage through weeks of empty existence. Sinking down beside the bath, I bury my head in my arms and let them all go, where nobody can see me or judge me or tell me to stop.
Here, I am not an inconvenience.
At some point, the bath almost overflows. I swipe my face with unsteady hands, closing off the water and slipping beneath the surface until all I can hear is the muffled sound of my own pulse.
What the fuck do I do?
My world is imploding. Jonas has made his choice, and it isn’t me. Liam… my mind skitters away from any thought of him. And Carter is on the verge of losing everything we’ve worked for. Everything he ever wanted.
And in the end, it all comes down to one thing.
The season.
I have to make it through, same as everyone else. If I make it to the end of April, if Liam stops pushing me down into submission, maybe I can talk it through with them. Find a way forward for all of us before playoffs begin.
Even…my heart stutters again. Even if that means Lauren, too.
My face breaks free of the water, chest expanding on a gasp.
I need to see out this season. All of us do.