Page 319 of Rogue Riders Duet

It’s early evening, but my body is not buying it.

I’m not exhausted, but I feel like my blood is moving a half-step behind the rest of me, and if I give in and close my eyes now, that’s it. I’ll be wide awake at three in the morning and useless by race day.

I tell myself I just need to make it another two hours. Just enough to tip into the right rhythm, to shift my clock onto this new time zone so I’m not dragging ass when it counts. But once I’ve listened enough and turned the music off, the quiet is too quiet, the weight of the room pressing in like I don’t belong in something this clean.

I still don’t have Alaina’s number, which, why the hell don’t I? So I shoot Luc a quick text.

Wanna watch a movie? Try out the fancy room service? I need to do something or I’m gonna crash.

He replies immediately.

Luc

Get your pretty ass over here.

I smile. It’s dumb, but it lands low in my gut and stays there.

I don’t bother with a shirt, just slide on those damn hotel slippers and head out in my sweats, knocking on the next door over.

It swings open, and Luc is standing there in shorts and a fitted pink T-shirt that clings to him in all the right ways. His hair is still damp, curling around his ears, and he smells like lavender.

My eyes go to his chest before I can stop myself. I’m not even subtle about it.

“You can ogle me inside.” Luc smirks, grabbing my upper arm and tugging me into the room before shutting the door behind us.

“Do you have Alaina’s number?” I ask, taking in his room, which is already a mess of clothes and towels.

How the hell did he manage that so fast?

“Already tried texting her. She told me when we got here, she was gonna crash for a bit, said she was running on fumes.” He shrugs. “She hasn’t answered, so I’m guessing she’s out cold.”

“Damn,” I mutter. “I’d love to nap, too, but⁠—”

“Jetlag,” Luc finishes for me, flopping onto the bed. “Yeah. We should try to push through. I told her the same, but she was wrecked.”

He pats the blanket beside him. Toulouse is curled on the pillow, looking majestic and annoyed, and I cross the room to crouch next to the bed and coo at him like a damn fool.

Glancing over, my face warms at the crooked smile on Luc’s face as he watches me. Rolling onto his stomach, he crawls over the bed to me and grabs the back of my neck, pulling me toward him.

His hand is firm, but his lips are soft as he kisses me.

It’s over fast, and when he pulls away, I blink at him, heart stuttering. “What was that for?”

He grins a little bashfully, but his eyes are lit up from the inside. “For being you. I don’t know. I’m just… fuck. I’m so damn happy all the time now. It’s weird.”

I snort. “You’re always happy. That’s nothing new.”

“Not when I’m alone,” he says seriously. “I wasn’t before this, but I am now.”

I kiss him back because I get it, and I don’t want him ever to feel alone again.

“I’m gonna try my best to make you happy as long as you’ll let me,” I whisper against his lips, and Luc smiles, then releases me and scoops up Toulouse with both hands, murmuring something soft in French as he sets the rat into his travel cage by the window.

Toulouse doesn’t fight it, just curls up in his hammock, tail hanging out.

Luc grabs the remote before he climbs back onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He opens one arm, gesturing toward me. “C’mere.”

I want to, but it’s weird.