Page 75 of Traded

My inhale is sharp. Carter turns as if he can hear it, calling to Gabe before skating my way. I step back as he skates to the edge of the rink and off, yanking free his helmet.

He looks… broken. “Rosie.”

I fling my arms around him at the same time he reaches for me. He lifts me easily, his face finding my neck and burrowing into it.

“I’m sorry.” I say it over and over again, desperation clawing at my neck as he only holds me tighter. My hand finds his hair, running through it as I babble through the chokehold of command. “I’m so sorry.”

This is my fault. I took an already risky injury and made it so much worse.

His face feels damp against my skin. “It’s not your fault.”

But it is. When he tries to let me go, I hold on to try and keep everything else out. “Not yet.”

I’ve never felt like that before. But he doesn’t move, his hands secure against my spine until I eventually find the strength to pull away. “What are they saying?”

“I can’t pull it back enough to get the strength for the shots.” Carter runs a hand over his face. We turn back to the rink, Carter’s skates tapping on the arena floor as we both lean over the barrier. “I think… I think I might be done, Ro. Surgery will help, but…they’re saying I might not be able to play. Not this season. Maybe not ever. Here, at least.”

He tips his head back, but his eyes are shining. “I don’t know what to do.”

I fight back my own tears. This isn’t about me. Not here. “Who’s saying it? Mina? Miles? He’d never let that happen without a fight.”

“Miles is battling Mina over pain management.” He shakes his head. “He thinks we can go to a stronger schedule, but she wants to try more physio first.”

“Stronger meds?” I stare at him. “Is that possible?”

I’m… not sure how I feel about that. But I bite down on my opinion. No matter what he says, this feels like it’s my fault. “Wouldn’t that just… mask it?”

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. Carter looks over at me. “But long enough that I could at least see this season out. I… fuck, Ro. That’s all I want. If it’s not now, it’s not going to be ever. I can’t leave the team like this.”

He drops his head. “Shit. I didn’t even ask. You feeling better?”

I blink, taken aback by the switch. “What?”

“Liam said you had a migraine the other night.” Carter frowns. “That’s new. And what did you do to your scent? You smell like a basket of those dried petals they shove into communal bathrooms.”

“Thanks.” I grapple for an answer as he watches. But it’s Liam’s words that rise to my lips. “I was having trouble with all the scents at home. This… helps. I’m fine.”

He breathes out. “Good. That’s really good. You had me worried. Sorry I haven’t been around much.”

I stay still as he wraps his arm around me and kisses my head. “Times like this I’m glad we have a pack. You and Lauren okay now? Jonas said things are better.”

Liam and Jonas have apparently been saying a lot of things. I stare out at the ice, watching Gabe collect the pucks. The lump in my throat grows bigger until it could strangle me. “Fine.”

“Good.” He steps back, offering me a quick, distracted smile. “I need to get to the video room. I’ll be late again. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” It hurts. “That’s the season, right? Focus on your shoulder.”

“Good job you’re coming to the Midwest swing, or I wouldn’t see you until Sponsor Day at this rate.” Carter pecks me on the lips before smiling tiredly. “Have faith in me, Ro. I need it.”

“I do,” I whisper.

I always do. Even when he’s breaking my heart. He’s never felt as far away from me as he does right now.

Carter glances behind us, his frame tightening. “We should get going. Aces are coming in for practice.”

He snags my hand after tugging off his skates. “Walk with me?”

I think I might follow wherever he’s going and curl up in his lap. I grip his hand tightly enough that he looks at me again. Closer, this time, his nose wrinkling. “You sure you’re good? I can’t pick anything up with that shit you’re using.”