Page 14 of Traded

“He’s in good shape.” I think. “It’ll be a great season.”

“Never a doubt.” A car pulls up behind me, and Sonny lifts the barrier so I don’t have to find my access badge. “Have a great game, Rosie. See you later.”

“You too.”

It takes forever to find my badge at the player’s entrance. Cursing, I burrow down into the ninth circle of hell that makes up my bag, grimacing at the weird shit that I’ve apparently tossed in and completely forgotten about.

After pushing aside at least four body sprays that all belong to Jonas, Carter’s extra set of house keys, a spare heat pad for his shoulder and Liam’s pedometer—that I’ve never used, despitehim asking every damned week—I yank the lanyard free and swipe my way inside.

The player’s corridor is ridiculously full.

Of tension.

The air is so thick with it that my feet slow before I force them into movement.

Various people wearing navy blue face off with others in scarlet Ace jerseys, and I keep my head down as I shift through the swelling crowd.

“Rosie!”

My head shoots up. Katie jabs a scarlet alpha out of her way with a pointed elbow as she finds her way to my side and blows hair out of her face, blond strands sticking to it. As cold as it is outside, it’s roasting in here. “This is wild. We have to share this place all season?”

“Yeah.” I grip her tightly before letting go. “You seen Ethan?”

“Dropped him off earlier.” She hooks her arm through mine and tows us toward the stairs, her height giving her the advantage of actually being able to see where she’s going. I’m a few inches off having my own faceoff with ass, andnobodywants that in a confined space. I keep my chin lifted to make sure I’m out of the danger zone. “He said everyone is buzzed. Where did your guys go today?”

She hauls me onto the steps with impressive strength, and I follow behind her. “What do you mean?”

“They missed morning skate.” Katie glances over her shoulder, frowning. “You didn’t know?”

That stone is back again. Nobody misses morning skate. I force myself to shrug. “Carter probably had a reason.”

Sourness prickles beneath my skin. Katie and I keep our heads down as we head through the main areas toward our assigned entrance. I murmur to everyone who greets me, taking andgiving hugs on autopilot until we both drop down into our seats with matching sighs of relief.

“Greatseats,” Katie says with relish. “Ethan still thinks my favorite spot is behind the bench so I can watch him adoringly for the whole game. He’d never forgive me if I told him it’s anywhere I can watch Benji’s hips. That man canmove.”

“Yeah,” I say absently. Leaning forward, I scan the rink. It’s full of players warming up.

My pack wouldnevermiss morning skate.

Like they’d never miss the pre-game video game, and they’d never miss pack dinner on a game day.

This is shaping up to be a day of firsts, and I don’t like any of them.

I look for the19jersey, but I can’t see it. My jelly doughnuts threaten to make a reappearance over Ryker’s mom and stepdad in front of me, and I press myself back into my seat. My hands grip the blue plastic tightly.

No17, for Jonas. No4either, for Liam.

My pack isn’t on the ice.

And puck drop is any minute.

Katie nudges me, and my head shoots up as she points. My wild hope ebbs away at the sight of the scarlet jersey.

For fucks’ sake.

Boone shoves his visor up with one gloved hand, then wiggles his fingers at me.

I flip him off.