Page 55 of Traded

Lauren purses her lips, reaching into her bag. She slides a stapled document in front of me. “This is the draft content strategy I’m taking to Ness and Richard. I’d like your views on it before it goes.”

“You wrote it already? You just got here.” I take the paper and slip it into my bag.

Ofcourseshe’s an overachiever. I bet it’s perfect. I’m petty enough to at least hope for a few stray typos I can circle. In red pen.

She looks a little embarrassed. “It’s only a draft. Final version will take a while to hammer out.”

“Sure.” We lapse into awkward silence before I push to my feet. “If that’s everything, I have a lot to do.”

Her hand reaches for my arm before she yanks it back. “Can we talk?”

I’d rather bare-knuckle fight with a crocodile than talk. But I sit back down with a heavy thump. “Go for it.”

“I wanted to say I… appreciate you letting me settle in.” She shifts in her seat. “It wasn’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” I push back my seat until we’re further apart. She’s gripping the armrest so tightly that her knuckles have turned white. “For me to make you sleep in the kitchen and eat out of the trash?”

“Kind of?”

“I didn’t know it was an option.” She looks like she doesn’t know what to say to that, and I bite down on my cheek. “Look. Ihate this. I don’t think it’s a secret. Maybe it hasn’t been as bad as it could have been. But it’s not going to get easier. You’re their scent match, and I’m… not.”

It feels like I’m balancing on the edge of a cliff, and it’s only going to take the smallest nudge to shove me over the edge. Everyone is being polite right now. Everything is new, and everyone is sniffing around, trying to play nice.

This weird balance can’t last. And I’ll be the one trapped beneath the wreckage when it all comes crashing down.

“Maybe not all of them.” She sips at her coffee. “It’s hard to get a read on Carter. I haven’t seen him much. But I’m not picking anything up.”

Thatwould throw me off the edge with the force of an invading army. “I’m keeping my fingers crossed. No offense.”

“None taken.” There’s a loose thread on her jeans, and she picks at it absently. “But if he’s not a scent match, you know what it means. Right?”

I’m trying not to think about that. “There’snothingwrong with our pack.”

“I didn’t say there was.” Lauren keeps picking, twisting the dark thread.

Not in so many words. It feels like we’re having two different conversations, and I don’t like it. I study her, trying to work out her angle. “Say whatever it is you’renotsaying.”

“You really don’t hold back, do you?” She lifts her eyes. “The pack dynamic is interesting. That’s all.”

Interestingis one of those words that seems good, but never actually is. My hackles rise instantly.

“You don’t know anything about our pack,” I say tightly. “You walked in a few days ago and turned our lives upside down. You haveno ideawhat kind of pack we are.”

“I know.” The rapid agreement settles my flash of anger, lowering it to a simmer. “Is there anything I can do to make any of this easier?”

“You could not be so fucking agreeable.” It’s so annoying. “You make me look like a psychopath.”

“You’re allowed to be angry. Scent-matching sounds like a fairytale, but it isn’t particularly fair to omegas.” She sighs. “Liam told me there’s a team dinner tonight. I’ll stay out of your way.”

And now I feel like a prize bitch. “Thanks.”

She packs up her things while I stew in my own pity party, sponsored by a healthy dose of guilt. Words build up in my throat.

Ugh. No. Don’t do it. Keep those fuckers down. Grit your fucking teeth.

I don’t. I spew them out between us as she’s heading to the door. “You want to help me set up later?”

Her surprise colors the air as she twists to face me. “Really?”