24. Broken Dreams of Loaded Fries #2
Only Mackenzie and Yukov are here. From the amount of laughter coming from the booth, I’d assumed there was a whole group. My face flushes. “Uh. Hi.”
“Take a seat.” I find myself sliding into the booth beside Yukov without being entirely sure how I got there.
Mac settles himself opposite, exaggeratedly tapping the seat beside him. “Will you be joining us, Cap? Or is the tree impression a new trick?”
Boone slowly takes the offered spot. I look away from the stare he’s pinning on me. “Sorry to crash. I’m waiting on some food, and then I’ll withdraw from the battlefield.”
“You’re welcome to stay.” Yukov’s quiet voice is tinged with the faintest remnants of an Eastern European accent. His bear paw of a hand is wrapped around a half-empty beer bottle.
“Tsk.” I shake my head. “Not falling for that one. I don’t share my fries with anyone, sorry.”
His small grin feels hard-earned. Tapping my fingers, I lean back and decide to embrace the wild turn my night has taken. “So, Aces. Since I’m here, tell me all of your secrets.”
Mac coughs. Boone slaps him on the back, still watching me. “How about a truce instead? No game talk.”
I feign shock. “You mean… There are other topics? Next we’ll be talking about the weather.”
Mac clears his throat. “Ach. Weather in Chicago’s not that bad, really.”
“You would say that,” Yukov mutters. “You get four seasons in a day and call it summer.”
This is easier. More lighthearted, and I find myself curious. “You’re from Scotland, right?”
“Was it not obvious?” Mackenzie shakes his red hair and grins at me. “Aye. Originally, anyway. Spent some time in Canada at the camps and got drafted here, but I try to get home when I can. The highlands are beautiful.”
I refuse to admit that my knowledge of the Scottish Highlands is confined to romance books. “I’d love to go one day.”
“Nothing stoppin’ you.” He tilts his bottle my way. “You’d be very welcome. Maybe we can steal you from the Titans and whisk you away.”
I force out a laugh around the lump in my throat. “I can’t see that happening.”
“Shame.” Laughter lines at the corner of his eyes deepen. There’s a shuffling sound, and he winces. “Has anyone heard from Navarro? He only went to change.”
“Sleeping,” Yukov mumbles. “Probably.”
It’s getting late. I glance over to the bar, searching for any sign of my fries.
At this point, I’m tempted to sink my teeth into the alpha next to me.
Apple pie is a close second to lava cake in my book, and Yukov smells like a freshly baked pastry sprinkled with warm cinnamon.
I inhale deeply, and he tenses beside me.
His neck is flushed when I glance at him.
Maybe I could be tempted to share my fry pile.
This is… surprisingly easy. Comfortable, even, and I find myself reluctant to head back to my empty room.
Leaning back with my wine, I listen to Mac try to wheedle information from Yukov about some bet they have that neither of them will admit to me.
Yukov says little, but his arm is a warm, heavy weight at my side.
I should go back. Ask for my food to be brought upstairs.
But the minutes tick by, and I don’t move.
Boone leans back, his arm stretched alongside the back of the booth behind Mac. His eyes shift frequently between me and his pack, the tautness in his frame softening the longer we sit there until Mac taunts him into an arm wrestle.
“My money’s on Mac,” I say sweetly. His eyes narrow. “I’m sorry, does the truth hurt? I’m pretty sure I could take you.”
“Knew I liked you,” Mac beams. “She’s a keeper.”
Boone extends his arm and plants his elbow on the table. He raises an eyebrow at my open mouth. “You and me, Ragdoll. Let’s see if you can take it as well as you give it, hm?”
The low murmur sends heat flaring up my throat.
Swallowing, I scooch forward. When I slide my fingers into his, Boone sucks in a breath.
He closes his hand around mine gently. “What do I get when I win?”
My eyes fly to his. “Um. Bragging rights?”
“Not enough.” He shakes his head slowly, not looking away. “Dinner.”
“What?” My laugh locks into my throat. “No.”
Boone nods in understanding. His thumb rubs in slow circles against my skin. “Not dinner, then. Coffee. At Georgio’s booth. Twenty minutes in the same space. And you’re not allowed to run away, Ragdoll. I’ll be timing it.”
I tug my hand free, but his fingers recapture mine easily.
“I miss my friend.” The words are quiet and earnest and unexpected. “I’d like to see her again.”
This feels…. dangerous. A prickle spreads over my skin—
“Am I interrupting?”
Yanking my hand from Boone’s, I shrink back into the leather walls of the booth. Liam looks between us coolly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Heaviness sweeps over me until it feels like he’s holding me in place with nothing but disapproval and seething anger. I can taste it. My teeth clamp together, holding back a noise I’m certain I don’t want to let free at this table.
Boone straightens, but Mac cuts in easily. “My bad, Kessler. We coaxed her over while she was waiting for food. Pretty much held her hostage.”
“I’m sure.” There’s no smile. Nothing at all, except a dawning horror as he slides his hand to the nape of my neck. Beside me, Yukov breathes in deeply, the arm and leg at my side tensing. “Time to go. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“She hasn’t had her food.” Boone gets to his feet. “Should be any minute now.”
“She already ate.” My eyes stay pinned on the floor. The back of my throat is burning as he nudges me from the booth with his fingers pressing into my neck. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her.”
“Sure.” In the corner of my eyes, I see Mac’s hand clamped on Boone’s arm. “Good luck with the game.”
Liam doesn’t respond. His arm slides around my shoulders as he leads me away from the table, my legs close to stumbling. “I—”
“Not here.” His grip feels punishing. “You’re lucky it wasn’t Carter who found you.”
Am I?
I shrink further. “Can you move your hand? It hurts.”
He shifts back to my neck, his fingers tightening as he tows me across the lobby toward the elevator. He raises a hand to the porter with a laugh as I try to keep my expression even.
When the doors slide closed, my back meets the glass of the mirror.
“Jesus, Rosie,” Liam snaps, glaring down at me. “Stop looking at me like I’m going to hurt you. What the fuck were you doing with them?”
“I…” I swallow as he waits for an answer. My hands sink into the hoody, gripping the material and twisting. “I woke up, and my phone was broken so I went to order food.”
“You should have come to me. I would have sorted it.” He leans over me, and my body manages to shrink further. “Next time, you tell me first. You don’t go whoring yourself around to the fucking Aces.”
Every word drips with disgust. At me. His lips curl as he looks me up and down. “You smell like fucking Yukov. Must have been a good time. Carter’s going to flip.”
“No. It wasn’t like that.” My headshake is frantic. The bell sounds, doors sliding open. “Please don’t tell him.”
“Going down?”
Liam wheels around, blocking my view. “Up.”
“My bad. I always hit the wrong button.” The alpha steps into the lift anyway. “May as well get in. You never know when the next one will turn up, am I right?”
Liam doesn’t respond. His arm nudges me back, into the corner.
“Hey, Rosie.” Austin Navarro leans around him, offering me a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “You good?”
Humiliated. Embarrassed. And to make it worse, Liam’s right. The elevator is filling with apple pie. Burnt apple pie, and my eyes shift down to the floor. “Yeah.”
The tension ratchets up with every floor. Navarro hums, his eyes on me. “You sure about that?”
“She’s fine,” Liam snaps. “Keep your eyes on your own damned pack and stop looking at mine.”
“Just checking.” I wonder if he can pick up the echoes of his packmate’s scent. If he can pick out the burnt strands of my own broken scent, the de-scenter I threw in the bath earlier clearly not enough. “Season’s pretty demanding. Easy for emotions to get out of hand, no?”
The elevator stops on our floor. Liam’s hand wraps around my arm, but he loosens it and slams his hand against the doors instead, holding it as he waits for me to get out.
“Bye, Rosie.” I feel Navarro’s eyes on my back as I dart out, holding back tears.
“Bye,” I mumble.
I stay where I am as the doors close. Waiting. Liam takes me in and pinches his nose. “Look. It’s fucking late, and I’ve spent the last hour trying to find you.”
“Sorry,” I whisper again. He shakes his head.
“Go to bed. I’ll deal with this when we’re home.”
He waits for me to scan my key card, and I pause in the doorway. “Are you going to tell Carter?”
Liam runs a hand through his hair. “Are you going to behave the rest of this trip?”
I nod.
“Then I’ll think about it.” He inhales, his face twisting. “Shower before you go to bed.”
The door closes, and I fold over in the middle of my bedroom. My body shakes, and I slam my hands over my mouth.
Stupid. I don’t have to be scared of him—not like that. That’s ridiculous. I shuffle toward the shower, stopping for a fresh bottle of de-scenter on the way and not emerging until there isn’t a single trace of scent left on me.
Someone is tapping on the door. Bracing myself for whatever Liam’s forgotten, I yank it open.
The barman on the other side is unexpectedly familiar.
“May I bring this in?” He keeps his voice quiet, and my stomach twists as I stand back to let him wheel the trolley inside. He tucks it against the wall, and I lift the first stainless steel cover.
Fries. Every single dish I ordered, and one I didn’t.
The warm chocolate lava cake is steaming. A bowl of ice-cream waits beside it, with a note pushed beneath the bowl.
My heart thunders in my chest as I slide it free.
Go for the record.