The way he says that, and the edge in his tone makes me uneasy. Or maybe it’s the way the team is looking at me now, like they’re all seeing something that doesn’t make sense. Or smelling something that doesn’t.
The smell of woodsmoke intensifies as my adrenaline fades, my body registering the full extent of the pain. It reminds me of comfort, of safety, of the pack bonds that have only ever been there in the background, suddenly roaring to life. Intensifying.
“Jax,” I rasp, grabbing his wrist as they lift the backboard and panic shoots through me. “Something’s wrong.”
He meets my gaze, and I see the confirmation I was dreading. He can smell it too. Whatever “it” is. He’s just better about hiding his emotions than the others.
“We’ll figure it out, Brick,” he promises, but there’s shock written across his features. “You just focus on getting better.”
As they carry me toward the tunnel, I catch fragments of urgent conversation behind me.
“...not possible at his age...”
“...what this means for the team...”
And then, just as consciousness begins to slip away, I hear Aidan’s voice, incredulous and carrying clearly across the ice.
“Holy shit, Darren is anomega?”
Chapter
Three
LEXIE
Ispot the waitress approaching with my order and fight the urge to slide down in the booth. The pie, a whole golden-crusted apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream already melting on top, looks even more ridiculous now that it’s actually being placed in front of me.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asks, setting down an extra plate as if anyone might be joining me in this shameful endeavor.
“Just a water refill, thanks.” I manage a smile and try not to think about how she must be judging me. Single woman. Whole pie. Tuesday afternoon. The math isn’t complicated.
The first forkful hits my tongue, cinnamon and butter and just the right amount of tartness from the apples, and I briefly forget to care what anyone thinks. I close my eyes and let the sweetness coat my anxieties.
Jessica is fifteen minutes late, which is right on time for her. My sister operates in her own time zone where punctuality is a loose concept and “I’ll be there in five” means “I haven’t left yet but I’m thinking about it.”
I’m halfway through demolishing the first quadrant of pie when the bell above the door chimes. I don’t need to look up to know it’s her with the clack of sensible heels on tile followed by a dramatic sigh that somehow manages to convey both exhaustion and judgment.
“Oh God, it’s bad.” Jessica slides into the booth across from me, dropping her purse beside her. “I haven’t seen you in a full-pie mental state since the traffic from that magazine feature crashed your entire website.”
I point my fork at her. “I was going to share.”
“No, you weren’t.” She shrugs off her coat, revealing one of those crisp blouses that somehow says both ‘I’m a professional’ and ‘I could be on the cover of a magazine if I wanted to.’ It’s one of the gifts I gave her from my first collection, before I decided to focus on sweaters, since those have always been my bestsellers. “What happened?”
I consider telling her about the email I got this morning. Mark’s pre-announcement of his upcoming mating ceremony with his new pack to everyone on the invitation list. Which, apparently, I’m on for some reason. I consider mentioning the string of one-star reviews from a customer who ordered the wrong size sweater and decided to wage a personal vendetta instead of returning it. I consider bringing up the fact that my apartment feels emptier every time I walk through the door.
“Nothing specific,” I say instead, stabbing at a chunk of apple. “Just... Tuesday.”
Jessica’s eyes narrow in that way that says she knows I’m deflecting but is choosing to let it slide. For now. “Well, scoot over then. If we’re having pie for lunch, at least let me pretend I tried to talk you out of it.”
The waitress returns with a second fork before Jessica even asks, proving that normal people share desserts rather thanordering them as main courses. Jessica takes a bite and makes an appreciative noise.
“Okay, this was actually a solid life choice.”
“I have them occasionally.” I take another bite, feeling the knot in my chest loosen slightly. There’s something about Jessica’s presence that always grounds me, even when she’s driving me crazy.
“So,” she says, in that too-casual tone that immediately puts me on alert. “Have you given any thought to the dating app?”
And there it is. I knew we wouldn’t make it through half a pie without circling back to this. I push a piece of crust around the plate, buying time.
