Page 35 of Traded

Don’t push this. Please.

I swallow. “I will get used to this.”

I try to make it convincing.

His face softens. There’s an apology there, but I don’t look too closely. “I’ll let it go today, then.”

“Thanks.” I almost—almost—keep the bite from my voice. “How magnanimous of you.”

Another sigh. I seem to be gathering a collection. “You said you would try.”

“This is me trying.” I yank my washcloth from the shelf, rubbing the soap into it and trying not to lose my temper. “See this? This is me trying to get ready, so I can go to the place we both work at and spend the day getting to know my new boss—who is moving in with us tonight, by the way, because she’s scent matched to themajority of my pack. That’s about as much trying as I have in me right now.”

My voice rises. “If that doesn’t work for you, I’m perfectly happy to call in sick!”

He raises his hands placatingly. “All right. Point made.”

I’m not sure it is, but he gets out before I can respond. I glare at the empty space when the noise of the door closing sounds. My voice cracks over the shower.

“And I was promised a damn coffee!”

What a brilliant fucking start.

Chapter eleven

Fresh Hair, Don’t Care

“You look perfect.”

“Don’t do that.” I rest my head against the window.

A headache is blooming at the back of my skull.

I’m late, and hot, and flustered. And nothing fits right. The black fitted dress I yanked from the darkest corners of my closet sits strangely on my hips. The seam feels like it’s itching. I can feel a blister forming under the slingback heels I bought once on a whim and never actually took out of the box until this morning.

I glance down at my wrist before yanking my sleeve down to cover the reddened, scratched skin.

Jonas twists the wheel, and a truck behind us pushes the horn aggressively as he pulls across the lane and I grab the armrest to steady myself. “What are you doing?”

He looks around before easing into a pull-in and undoing his belt. And mine, reaching over and avoiding me trying to fend him off. “Out. Come on.”

“No.” Mutinously, I stay where I am as he rounds the truck and pulls my door open. “This is ridiculous. I’m already late.”

Liam and Carter had to leave while I was still getting ready, Carter needed for an early assessment before getting onto the ice.

The lukewarm coffee that was waiting for me when I eventually crawled out of the shower hovers, waiting to make a reappearance.

Jonas easily hauls me out, pressing me back against the truck.

“I’m going to get my dress dusty,” I mutter. There’s a lump in my throat.

He takes both of my hands in his. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I hate this dress anyway.”

“I wasn’t talking about the dress.”

This might be the worst part. Thetalking. The lump grows bigger. “You don’t have to come up with things to make this better. It’s not going to get any better. I’m dealing with it.”