Page 134 of Traded

“Carter.” I kneel down beside him. His eyes are glazed, a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead. Does it kick in that quickly?My hand finds his cheek, grazing the stubble there. “I don’t like this. You always promised me you’d stay away from it—”

“They know what they’re doing.” He shrugs off my touch, getting to his feet and leaving me kneeling on the floor as he reaches for another stick. “We got to trust the experts, Ro. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“That’s what we’re doing now?” I stare at him as he winds the tape without looking at me. “I can’t even ask questions?”

He sighs. “Not about this. Trust me, okay? I have it handled. Once the season’s done, I’ll start looking at surgery. Were you looking for me for a reason?”

“Do I need one?”

He gives me a look that tells me he’s in no mood for it. “I have shit to do, that’s all. I’ve got to run drills after this, and then meet with Mason. Then I’m with Remy, and then Gabe. Probably someone else after that. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Then take a break.” I’m in no mood to give him extra strings for his baby violin pity party. “Ask someone else to run drills. Benji would help.”

“I’m the fucking captain,” he snaps. “They’re all depending on me.”

“And they won’t be able to if you’re drowning under the weight of things other people can help with!” My temper flares. “You haven’t even asked how the dinner went. The one you missed because of all yourresponsibilities.”

“The guys said it was fine.” He looks over at me. “Saw your message, but I couldn’t reply. I know his dad can be a bit of an ass, from what he’s said.”

Fine.

Everything is on fire, but everything isfine.

“Something like that.” I drag myself to my feet. “I came to ask if you booked my medical appointment yet.”

Guilt flashes over his face, his brows drawing together. “Not yet. You sick?”

“Maybe.” I rub at my arms. My body is veering from roasting to the ice age every ten minutes. “Can you book it?”

“Yeah.” He drops the stick, giving me his full attention as he yanks his phone from his pocket. “Sorry, baby. I’ll do it right now. Sit down. Do you need water?”

I blink at him slowly, but flop down onto the bench. “I’m not dying, Carter. Make an appointment before you forget.”

He’s already flicking through his phone, his eyes traveling over me like he might be able to make a diagnosis via x-ray vision. “Yeah, hi. I need to make a general medical for my omega.”

Carter reels off my name. Our address. “March eighteenth, two thousand and two.”

I stare down at my hands, waiting for him to be done.

“Thanks.”

His boots appear in front of me. And then his face.

“What did they say?” I glance up.

“March eighteenth.” When I pull back, he captures my hands easily. “March eighteenth wastwo weeks ago.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me?” I try to summon an attitude, but all that comes out is a sad little fizzle. “You’re the one who needs a calendar.”

“I forgot your birthday,” he breathes, his eyes growing wide as he searches for words.

“If it makes you feel better, you weren’t the only one.” I pull my hands out of his and fold my arms, building a barrier between us as he stares at me in growing horror. “Not a big deal. It’s probably not even my actual birthday.”

Just a date they shoved on my paperwork. A best guess. There was no handy information sheet tucked in my trash bag when whoever owned me decided to dump me at a fire station insteadof sticking around. “We could probably just say it was today and call it quits.”

“I forgot your birthday,” Carter repeats. He looks down, swallowing hard. “Ineverforget your birthday.”

“Yeah, well.” I dash my hand over my eyes. “First time for everything.”