13. Scots & Mountains
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, screaming help, 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.
Boone pockets his phone before I can stop him. He’s not smiling. “This is called a peace offering, Ragdoll. Don’t yell at me.”
My day’s already ruined. And now my coffee, too?
This is too fucking much.
“I can pay for my own damn coffee,” I snarl, swiping the cup.
Even Gio’s easy smile wavers. Embarrassment sweeps over me as the three alphas tense. Boone’s eyebrows flick up, amusement tugging up his cheeks to show off a perfectly placed dimple. “I’m happy to explain what a peace offering is if you want an explanation.”
Ass.
“What I want is for you to leave me alone,” I snap. My face is on fire, and I avoid looking at Mackenzie or Yukov, both of whom suddenly find a strong interest in the wall. “Seriously, Boone. Shouldn’t be a problem, should it? We both know you’re good at it.”
He doesn’t move, but I catch the flicker of darkness across his features. The tension that sweeps over him, any amusement fading away. “Whatever you say.”
He stalks off down toward their own locker room before I can say anything else. I watch him go, Mackenzie raising a hand and Yukov giving me a grunted goodbye before they follow.
They pass a nervous-looking Lauren, and I mentally smack my forehead with my hand. Several times.
She approaches me with the same caution I’d probably give a cornered rhino. “Hey.”
I grip my coffee like a lifeline. “Hey.”
She hoists her stupid bag higher on her shoulder. “Look, I’ve got a few meetings booked in until three.”
Which gives me five hours to adjust to the very real reality that she’s moving into my home. Tonight.
The invasion continues.
But it sounds like an offer, and I grab it with both hands. “I’ve got… meetings too. I’ll meet you by the doors at three.”
I’m gone before she can do more than nod, stumbling on my merry way to my non-existent meetings. I don’t even know where I’m going.
Or maybe I do.
He’s not in Martin’s office. Or the empty locker rooms, the rest of the team still out on the ice. I stop by Leo’s workshop long enough to mutter a mumbled apology for the glass and my ‘accidental’ clumsiness, getting an I’m annoyed but I’ll fix it grunt in return.
Elena’s rooms are dark and empty.
He’s sitting on the exam table in Mina’s office. I barely knock before sticking my head around the door.
Carter takes in the expression on my face. “Mina, can we borrow the room for a minute?”
“Sure. Have a chat. I need to speak to Gabe anyway.” She picks up an x-ray scan and gives me a smile before slipping out. I awkwardly shuffle in, suddenly uncertain as Carter pushes the door closed.
“Tell me,” he says gently.
That's all it takes. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out except a broken little sound that I don't recognize as mine.
His offered arms feel like a lifeline. I burrow into him as tightly as I can get, my hands probably stretching his practice jersey with the tightness of my grip as I blurt out what happened. “I hate this.”
“I know.” He runs a hand down my back. “Jonas will be kicking himself.”
“Will he?” I mutter. “Because I don’t see him here.”
Carter taps lightly on my back. “You know Coach won’t let him off the ice until practice is done.”
Theoretically, I know that. But I also know that if he really wanted to, he’d find a way.
“None of us have dealt with this before.” I listen to his heartbeat instead of focusing on his words. “Everyone’s finding their way, Ro. We all get grace with this, and you get more than everyone else. Don’t worry about the glass.”
I suck in my cheeks. “Have you seen her today?”
Jesus Christ. There she blows again. I may as well put Lauren on a platter and offer her to my pack with a fucking apple in her mouth.
“No.” Carter buries his nose in my hair and inhales. “And I have no plans to. Mina wanted some tests done. X-rays and stuff for my shoulder.”
That distracts me more than anything else could. I yank my head back, almost headbutting him. “What did they say?”
“The labral tear’s bigger than they thought.
Growing.” At my sharp inhale, he shakes his head, but his throat bobs.
“We discussed surgery, but Gabe thinks we might keep it stable through the regular season if I stay on top of rehab. Mina’s talking to him about it.
It’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you right now. ”
I step back from him as if my touch might make it worse. “I want to talk to Mina.”
He winds our fingers together, tugging me closer. “She might be a while. They’re going to review my pain management plan. But yes, you can talk to her. Maybe not today, though.”
“You shouldn’t be masking it with meds.” I frown, already calculating changes we can make at home. “That’s not going to help.”
“It’ll get me through the season as long as my shoulder stays in its socket.
Martin’s going to make a few changes so I can protect that side as much as possible before playoffs.
” He touches my cheek. “Don’t look at me like that.
I don’t want you worrying about this on top of everything else.
I’m handling it. Everyone here wants me to get through the season. ”
I gnaw at my lip. “Have you told the others it’s worse?”
He nods. “That’s why Liam’s pushing so hard on the pack side. He’s trying to help, Ro. Let him.”
And now I feel twice as bad. My eyes drop. “I will.”
He kisses my forehead. “What’re your plans for the rest of the day?”
Hiding from Liam no longer seems like a suitable answer. I twist my lips. “Meetings.”
With me, myself, I, and several rounds of gourmet chips from the fancy vending machine on the first floor. “I’m meeting Lauren at three to bring her back to the apartment.”
Carter studies me. “You gonna be level with that? Want me to come with you?”
“No.” And no, and also, no. The last thing I want is Carter in an enclosed spare with someone who might be his scent match.
At least I have a good reason to say no.
“Liam was pretty firm that this is the best way.” I pull a face. “He wants us to be friends.”
“I take it that’s not going to happen.” Cart pushes some stray hair back out of my face, and his face twitches as his arm extends.
He has enough going on. Maybe Liam was right. We need to manage this between us.
“It… might,” I concede. Begrudgingly. “She doesn’t seem like the worst person on the planet.”
There. That’s practically effusive praise.
Carter looks like he’s hiding a smile. “You really wanted her to be a bitch.”
My hand smacks into his—thankfully not injured—shoulder. “I did not.”
I totally did. But he laughs, and I’m trying not to smile, and it feels like everything might be okay. “Thanks for helping me in my meltdown mode.”
“I love your meltdown mode.” He pecks my lips. Twice. “All of your modes. If your psycho feral mode comes out, tell her I love her too. Even if she ends up in prison.”
She hasn’t made an appearance since the stolen diner nachos incident that almost landed us all behind bars when I took on an alpha twice my height. Even Carter had looked average compared to him. Thankfully he was a Titans fan, but I could have taken him.
“That’s not funny.” Not when it feels like a real possibility. “I wouldn’t suit a life on the run. And prison orange washes me out.”
He actually laughs at that. “We’d make it work.”
We. Always we, and that settles me more than anything else could. I kiss him back, lingering longer than I should. “I’m going to see Mina now, you know. I want to know everything about the plan so I can help.”
“Of course you are.” He’s still smiling when I back away, grabbing my bag and coffee. “Got to keep that schedule up to date.”
“Don’t laugh.” I point at him accusingly. “My schedule is the only certainty in my life right now.”
“Not the only one.”