Page 239 of Rogue Riders Duet

“How come?” I ask quietly.

“Because the highs…” he starts, then falters. “The highs are so high. And the lows… fuck, they’re like a black hole. I need the highs to keep me from falling too deep into the lows.”

I nod slowly. “I-I think I get that. At least a little.”

The feeling after races, the blood pumping, the wind, the rush, and then the drop. The quiet and the hollow when nobody is cheering or watching anymore, but I always had Dane and Finn there to fill the silence afterward.

“And I get you.” Luc glances over at me again. “I’m struggling too. I’m not saying it’s the same, or that my pain’s bigger or worse than yours, but I get it. Maybe not all of it, but I can imagine.”

I look at him, at his profile lit by the dashboard, jaw tight, eyes tired but open. He’s not trying to fix me, just trying to say he’s here in it with me.

Luc is struggling, and maybe I knew that somewhere deep down, but hearing it makes me want to hold all his sharp edges in my hands, even if they cut.

It also forces me to acknowledge the truth that I have figured out for myself.

“You know…” I say, voice quiet, “… it got a lot better since you came into my life.”

Luc glances over. “It did?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Same, before you, I had no one.”

I scoff. “What are you talking about? You’re Luc-fucking-Delacroix.”

He gives me a crooked smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “No. Luc-fucking-Delacroix is the brand, ma Petite. That’s not me. It’s the guy people want to take pictures with, the one they name-drop or want to be seen with. Not because they like me, but because they think they’ll get something from it. Fame by association. I never had someone I could talk to, not the way I do with you.”

My heart aches for him, and I want to say it’s not true that, of course, he had people. But I know that feeling too well to pretend it’s not real.

“What about Élise?” I ask.

“Sure, I had her,” he says softly. “But I never told her about the lows. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to drop that weight on her.”

I think about how she told me what the loss of her husband did to her, and I nod. “I get that.” And then I hesitate, but I ask anyway, because I need to know. “What about Mason?”

Luc’s hands tighten on the wheel again, just for a second, but I see it. “Payne…” he says, thoughtful. “Mason was different, yeah, but I never considered him a friend.”

“What then?” I ask, bracing for the answer.

He exhales through his nose. “More like a hate-love thing? I don’t know. We fought. A lot. But it never felt empty. We sparked.”

“Okay.” I try to stay casual even as my brain is whirring. “Do you think of him as a friend now?”

Silence for a beat, then another, until a weird feeling in my chest rises, but Luc’s eyes are on the street in front of us.

“You said you were stupid for me, but stupid for Greer too. Right?” he asks hesitantly after so long, I almost thought he didn’t hear me.

“I did,” I admit. And I still feel shitty for it, even though it’s the truth.

“What would you say if I told you I feel the same? About you… and Mason.”

What?

I blink at him. “You do?”

“Yeah, I think I do, and I get it, what you feel for Greer, even while you still feel the same for me. I’m not going to ask you to choose, Petite. I don’t want you to choose.” I stare at him, my heart swelling and breaking at the same time. “I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted and needed in this life, Alaina. Everything that’s good because you deserve it. You need it, and I need all the help I can get to make you the happiest person on this planet.”

I choke up, my throat tight with tears that sting but don’t fall.