Page 125 of Traded

TOSS! TOSS! TOSS!

Thousands of stuffed animals begin raining over the glass from all sides of the arena. We grab our own bags, yanking the toys free and throwing them over.

There are bears, rabbits, dinosaurs, dragons, and I spot a green ball that looks suspiciously like a giant avocado, all of them bouncing off the ice as the Aces and Titans gather around the edges to applaud and the rink vanishes beneathmountainsof plush toys.

Volunteers pour through the gates with bins and shovels, dragging armfuls of toys toward the exits and bagging them in rapid movements.

I stay on my feet. “Look at how many there are!”

“We like a good cause.” Katie wraps her arm around me. “And this is agreatone, Ro.”

My heart feels so full.Who needs a fucking birthday anyway?

My good mood lasts until we exit the rink.

“Well, bitches.” Maddie yawns. “I’m not hanging around. I have a baby and a bubble bath waiting.”

She hugs me tightly. “Don’t be a stranger, Ro. Come see your team-niece.”

“I will.” We break apart, and I hold up my gift bag. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she sings out, turning. “Happy birthday! Again, I mean.”

Grinning, I turn to Katie. “I’m going to head back too. The others can catch up.”

I haven’t set foot in the family room since the incident I’m referring to as Drink-Gate, and tonight really doesn’t feel like a great time to test it. “See you next week?”

“Lunch,” Katie declares. “We’ll make it a birthday lunch, since you’re not sticking around to celebrate tonight.”

She sashays off, and I turn for the exit, digging in my bag to find Liam’s keys. They can ride back with Carter.

But a hand grabs my arm. “It’s yourbirthday?”

My heart spikes to a rate only hummingbirds experience. “No.”

But Lauren is looking at the gift bag in my hand, her face growing pale. “Oh my god. It is.”

My temper rises, hot and tight in my throat as I pull the bag closer. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t need your pity.”

“They forgot your birthday,” she breathes, still staring at your bag. “Rosie.”

“What the fuck did I just say?” I snap. “Leave it alone.”

But she’s shaking her head, looking up and down the hall as if divine intervention might strike us both. “Look. I’ll go and get my bag. We can—we’ll go out for dinner. Somewhere really nice. You like cocktails, right? I heard there’s a great eighties bar down by the Pit, we could go there. I could ring ahead, get some champagne. We could ask Katie too?”

As I stand there watching her scrabble around for anything that might possibly make up for today, my anger soars. “I don’t want a single fucking thing from you.”

I bet they wouldn’t forget her birthday. She flinches. “Look, I know I’m not your favorite person—”

“You’re notanythingto me.” The anger tightens, threatening dangerously close to tears. “You’re not my friend, or my alpha. You’re not my fucking sister-wife. You’re nobody to me.”

The blood drains from her face. She doesn’t say anything. And there are tears squeezing out of my eyes, and I fucking despise that I’m crying in front of her. It only makes the words sharper. More cutting. “So no, I don’t want to go to dinner with you. I’d rather spend my night on my own in my nest than making weird conversation over a fucking cocktail with the bitch whostole my life.”

I’m so angry that I can’t see properly. And I’m not even angry at her. But they’re not here, and she is.

I twist before I can spill any other vitriol into the air and almost run for the exit, away from the shattered look on her face and any guilt I might feel that I yelled at her and not the people Ishouldbe yelling at.

A tall figure blocks my way, and I swipe my hand over my face, keeping it turned toward the floor. “Excuse me. I need to get past.”