Page 241 of Rogue Riders Duet

I snort. “I don’t think I want him anymore.”

Luc snorts, too, louder than I just did.

“Fine,” I mutter. “I don’t let myself want him anymore, and I don’t think Dane would allow it anyway.”

Luc shrugs. “Let that be my problem.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” I glare at him. “You changed the subject. We weren’t done talking about your dad.”

Luc smirks, not letting go of my hand. “Are you changing the subject now? From Greer?”

“Maybe.”

He squeezes my hand gently and lets me off the hook. “Well, there isn’t much more to say. He did what he did, and I can sympathize, but I’m not feeling that way right now.”

I nod, a little relief seeping through. “I’m glad to hear that. But… you did once?”

Luc’s voice drops a little. “I did last year. When shit happened with Mason. I felt so fucking bad. I pitied myself, you know? Because I lost that thing we had, the fire, the fight, and I think, somewhere in my head, I thought my whole career was over, and at that point, it was everything I had.” He laughs softly, self-deprecating. “I was actually thinking about it, but I was also very sure I wouldn’t do it, mostly for my maman, but I felt like absolute shit. Then, after a race, when the rumors were flying and everything was messed up, I was walking through Val di Sole and passed a pet shop. I don’t know why, but I went in. I’ve never wanted a pet. Never been that guy.”

He turns onto a more rural road, and the car starts to shake and bounce over the cobblestones.

“I got to the cages, and they were all empty, except one. One cage, one rat. Tiny little guy. He looked miserable, sick, and alone. Like he’d already given up. Just like me.”

A soft smile tugs at Luc’s lip. “And I thought… non. We can do this together. Me and him. Toulouse taught me how to take care of myself because I had to take care of him. He saved me and kept me sane. At least until I met you.”

I don’t even try to stop the sting in my eyes. “Sounds like I’m gonna have to try to like that little guy.”

Luc huffs a laugh. “You already love him.”

I squeeze his hand, because yeah, maybe he grew on me.

“How are you feeling?” Luc asks softly after a beat of silence, still holding my hand. “You just said you wanted to commit to living this life?”

“I do.” I tilt my head and let myself think about it. “And right now I think I’m feeling strong enough.”

“But?”

“But I don’t know how it’ll be when the pain comes back. I mean, the heavy painkillers for my fingers are doing their job. I’m not feeling the hip, the ribs, everything that’s usually there. Right now, it feels doable, but when they wear off? I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Luc’s thumb strokes over my knuckles. “Then we make sure you get those painkillers until we’re through the season, and the World Cup’s over. I’m sure we can ask the doc tomorrow at your appointment.”

“Sure.” I agree easily because that was the plan anyway, since the fingers need six weeks to heal. What worries me is the aftermath, when the fingers are healed and the season is over. “But, what happens after?”

The car comes to a stop, and Luc turns to look at me fully. “After that, we find a way to keep you going. Whatever it takes. I’ve got you.” Something in me cracks, and I blink fast, halfway crying again, but he just adds, “We’re here.”

I look around, disoriented. Luc just cut the lights, it’s pitch-black outside, and I realize I haven’t paid attention to where we were going.

“Where are we?”

“It’s a surprise.” He grins. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

My quick answer makes him grin. “I want you to close your eyes.”

He reaches across me, his fingers brushing the seat belt release. It clicks free, and I swallow hard as he leans a little closer.

“I’m going to get out and open your door, and when you hear it open, I want you to take a deep breath, hold it, and don’t breathe again until I tell you to.”