Page 232 of Rogue Riders Duet

No touching or cuddling, and no clothes on the floor.

Regardless, my heart did this awful, searing thing as it lit itself on fire, and then laughed at me while it burned to ash. Not with jealousy, not really, or not just jealousy but with longing. I wanted to be between them. I wanted to slither in the middle and pull them both close, bury my face in her neck, press my back to his chest, and fucking drown in their warmth.

Instead, I stood there like a moron while the two people I want most in the world dreamed without me.

“So that’s why we’re here. Because of Raine,” Dane says, drawing me back to the room as he finishes his explanation.

Almost everyone is here. Otis and Piper were given the chance to back out before they made themself complicit in whatever this is. Maman, Mason’s dad, Mason, Dane, all of them here for Alaina.

Except Greer.

I’ve texted him twice but only got the lovely blue bubbles of silence in return. He’s probably still pissed, or avoiding Dane, or both. Either way, I’m trying to do the adult thing, give him space, let the air clear, and let the storm settle before I inevitably show up to bully him back into some fucking sense.

Because like hell will I let him leave things like this. Not with Alaina, not with Dane. Not with us.

Even with how distracted I’ve been by Mason, my head still spins with all that Dane said. Now that everything is out in the open—the disguise, the plan, the why—fuck, it all makes so much sense. Her fury, her silence, the pain she carried like a backpack full of bricks, and the way she threw herself into racing like she had nothing left to lose.

Because she didn’t.

And it only makes her hotter. I tear my gaze from where it has wandered to Mason again and rake it over Alaina.

Yep.

So much hotter.

She’s a fighter, a survivor, a goddamn phoenix with scraped knees and a wicked mouth.

She’s smiling to herself, like the sun is a little closer, and the weight is a little lighter. Maman told me the hour with her therapist went well, and maybe that’s why the tangle of grief and rage in her chest isn’t choking her quite as tightly today. I know what it took to earn that smile, and she’s even more beautiful when she lets herself be soft.

Or maybe it’s just because Mason finally pulled his head out of his ass and stopped being a complete dickhead.

Whatever it is, I want to protect it at all costs.

I barely finish my thought when Otis pipes up from the couch.

“Wait, are we sure it was him?” he asks, frowning. “I mean, I hate the guy, too, don’t get me wrong. Isaac once joked I must be fast because I grew up running from stuff. Isla thought it was hilarious and repeated it in three interviews. Guess who got labeled the ‘wild card with a troubled past’ before I ever qualified?”

“Fuckers,” Alaina mutters, and I agree wholeheartedly.

“But if there’s no real evidence…” Otis continues. “Maybe we’re screwing him over for nothing, and it was just mechanical. Bikes fail sometimes.”

“Haven’t you noticed how he’s fucked with every top rider?” Dane asks, crossing his arms.

Otis balks. “What?”

Dane’s expression turns grim. “He stole Finn’s fiancée. He made Alaina crash, knowing that would take me out too. He provokes Luc constantly⁠—”

“That doesn’t take much,” I cut in. “But yeah.”

Mason snorts beside me, and my skin fucking tingles.

“And let’s not forget the biggest one.” Dane’s eyes flick to Mason. “He made his sister lie about Payne. Ruined his reputation and almost killed his career.”

The room goes silent, and all eyes turn to Mason.

“Lie?” Otis looks stunned. “You didn’t do it?”

Mason’s muscles go tight, and I step in front of him without thinking and cross my arms over my chest to shield him from their stares, their judgment, their questions.