Page 114 of Rogue Riders Duet

Luc claps Otis on the back. “Come on, mon ami, I’ll grab you a Kaiserschmarrn. We’ll bond. I’ll feed you with a fork.”

“Pass. On the feeding part,” Otis mutters, tugging his shirt over his head with a huff as he walks out.

Luc lingers in the doorway, but his attention shifts back to me. He leans closer, voice soft. “I’ll find you when you’re done, yeah?”

He’s smiling that smile, the one that melts your brain when you look at it too long. Something bright and genuine flashes in his eyes, like the chaos has burned off for a second, and all that’s left is warmth.

They hit me right in the gut.

Butterflies.

Stupid, traitorous butterflies.

My lips twitch in barely a smile, but of course, he catches it and smiles even brighter. I reach up and press my palm to his cheek, pushing his face gently to the side like I’m shoving away the sun.

“Go,” I say.

He laughs in delight all the way out.

Piper shuts the door behind him and turns with that no-nonsense look she does so well. “What the fuck is going on?”

I let out a breath. “I don’t know. My hip hurts like a bitch, which is normal, but now it’s also my lower back and abdomen.”

She frowns. “Did you fall?”

“No.”

“Get on the bench, show me where it hurts.”

I climb up slowly, my body feeling like it’s made from rusted parts, and lie back with a wince. I press my hands to the spots, and she watches, eyebrows knitting tighter by the second.

“Are you on your period?”

“No.” I snort, which might also be a wince. “I haven’t had a period since the crash.”

That stops her. “Wait, really? How come?”

I keep my eyes on the ceiling because looking at her feels like too much. “My abdomen was a train wreck. Surgeries, internal damage. They said there’s scar tissue around my fallopian tubes. Apparently, that means I’m infertile.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Piper’s face has softened when I glance back at her. “But that wouldn’t usually stop your period completely.”

I blink. “It wouldn’t?”

She gives me a look. “Well, I’m not a gynecologist, but… didn’t you ask one?”

“Uh… no? And honestly? I was kind of psyched to be done with it. I figured it was a silver lining. Please don’t jinx it.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not the one lying here doubled over in pain.”

“It’s not cramps,” I bite out. “It fucking hurts. And I’m not bleeding.”

“Could be PMS or something. I get cramps two or three days before anything shows up.”

“Maybe my appendix burst,” I mutter, shifting like that might help. It doesn’t.

“If your appendix burst, you’d probably be unconscious, not sass-talking me.”

“I have a high pain tolerance.”