Page 230 of Rogue Riders Duet

“Mason,” I say, my voice too breathless as I push myself upright in a rush, legs folding awkwardly beneath me, and my oversized T-shirt slipping off one shoulder.

My heart trips over itself because I wasn’t ready for him to be here, and suddenly I’m acutely aware of how messy I must look, sitting here in just that old Offspring tee and shorts that barely cover anything.

Mason doesn’t comment, though, just grabs the chair from the desk, flips it around, and drops into it. He rests his arms across the top and meets my gaze without blinking. He doesn’t ask a question or even say hi. He just sits, waits, and watches me, making me squirm under his gaze. I think he’s not here to interrogate or accuse me, but to listen, maybe even to understand.

I can read in his gaze that he’s giving me one chance to explain before whatever fragile thread between us finally snaps. I swallow hard and feel the sting behind my eyes before I even speak.

And then I do.

I tell him everything.

About how I saw Isaac Raine standing near my bike that day, his hand brushing something on the frame, and about how I didn’t say anything at the time, even though I had a weird feeling.

I tell him about the pain. Not just the pain from the crash—though God knows that nearly killed me—but also what came after. The pain that made me scream in a hospital bed and bite down on towels so I didn’t wake up the whole ward.

I tell him about losing everything. My spot. My name. My body.

And then I tell him about the plan.

How Dane and I spent seven years putting it together, seven years of brutal training, and all we did to make Allen Crews real.

How I chopped off my hair, wrapped down my chest, changed my voice, and my entire goddamn existence.

I tell him how I studied Raine’s lines and dissected every second of footage I could find, how I trained until I bled, and how I planned every inch of this comeback for revenge.

I tell him I came back to take something.

To make Raine feel the helplessness he forced on me.

And when I’m done, when the words have left me hollow and shaking, and more naked than if I’d stripped down to bone, I finally meet Mason’s eyes again.

He hasn’t looked away once.

Which gives me a weird feeling because I told him everything.

Except for the end. The part where I planned to win and vanish. Take the gold, wreck Raine, and disappear into nothingness before anyone could catch up because it’s not the plan anymore.

Somewhere between the first start gate and this moment, something shifted.

I changed my own story today.

I don’t know how I’ll make this work yet. I have no idea what the new plan is, what I’m going to do when everybody figures it out, or what I’m going to do about Dane, Finn, Luc, and Mason. But the fact that I need a new plan, that I can still make plans, makes my heart flip in my chest.

Mason holds the stare, the weight of it settling like gravity between us, and we sit like that for a long beat.

Then he stands, pushes the chair back into place, and straightens to his full height. I sit up straighter, too, my heart suddenly beating even harder, because I have no idea what’s about to happen.

Is he going to cuss me out again?

Or leave and tell the UCI what I just told him?

“I’m…” I start, then falter. My voice cracks around the edge, so I try again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you by not telling you the truth sooner, but I couldn’t.” My hand twists in the hem of my shirt, my fingers knotting tight. “I couldn’t tell anyone the truth. Not even my nobody. That could have cost me my disguise, and it’s not only me in this, it’s Dane and… fuck.”

I glance up at him, at his dark, beautiful eyes. “I know I was wrong, I should have told you because you would’ve kept it quiet, you would’ve had my back. I know that. It’s not like I didn’t trust you, I do trust you, and I know I shattered that trust, but if there was anyone I could have told…” I trail off, all the word vomit finally coming to an end when I whisper, “… it would have been you.”

Silence falls for a long moment, and I’m unable to look him in the eyes again.

But then he steps forward and reaches for my good hand, warm and calloused fingers wrapping around mine, and pulls me to my feet.