Page 43 of Rogue Riders Duet

What is it, National Asshole Day?

My jaw clenches automatically. Once upon a time, I used to light up at that perfect little scowl because it meant game on. The jabs would be thrown like confetti, him with his smug shit talk, me firing back twice as hard. We trashed each other all season, and yeah, it was fun. Fired me up like nothing else. Not that I ever said that out loud, but I know he felt it too.

Then he went and ruined it. Shattered something that actually meant something to me, and I hate him for that, for making me miss it.

For being part of the reason this whole season feels so goddamn wrong.

I hate him for what they say he did too. Nobody wants a rapist in the circuit. I never would’ve guessed it, though, since he’s the type girls line up for. Deeply tanned skin, deep eyes, that broody charm. He’s a pretty boy. But apparently, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

When he stopped speaking, I didn’t. I kept on throwing punches, and they keep getting louder, meaner, because someone has to fill the silence he left behind.

Enculé.

I stride past, shoulder clipping his just hard enough to make a point. “You’re a compost of a man, Payne.”

Finn snorts.

Ugh.

I meant to say something cooler. But French brain. English tongue. Whatever.

Turning to glare at Payne, I find him just standing there with his jaw set, eyes cold. Taking it like he always does since everything changed.

It bugs the fuck out of me.

“What? Nothing?” I fold my arms across my chest. “You gonna brood me to death or what? Come on, say something. Grunt. Blink. Flare a nostril.”

“You done?”

It’s quiet, flat, and comes from behind me like a slap across the back of my neck.

I turn, and the rookie stands there, gaze locked on me.

What the hell?

Even Payne shifts beside me, frowning.

Well, well.

“Standing up for trash, Petit? Careful who you’re friends with. Some will pull you down faster than a flat tire in a rock garden.”

“Good thing I’m not your friend then, huh?”

I laugh the words off, but it comes out wrong. Too manic, too exposing.

Payne looks like he doesn’t know what to do with it either, appearing just as confused by the backup as I am. Dane claps the rookie on the shoulder once, and the kid falls in step beside him like nothing happened. I watch them go, wound up and unsatisfied, my body buzzing.

“Good talk, Pretty Boy,” I mutter to Payne, not even looking at him as I walk away.

I quicken my pace to catch up to Finn, drawing a grunt from him when I run into his side, trying to expel some of the strange energy. “Did you hear that? The little rookie’s mouthing off. Maybe he’s fast, but he needs to learn some fucking manners.”

Finn stops, and I stumble when he turns to glare at me. “After yesterday, I’d say you’re the one who needs to learn some fucking manners, Delacroix.”

“Wait, what?” I laugh awkwardly. “I thought we were… we had fun, non? I mean, after you said that thing about the junior team and…”

“We remember yesterday very differently, asshole.” Greer’s scowl deepens. “You had fun. I left after one beer. You were on your third shot, talking to strangers and acting like I wasn’t even there. It took me an hour to get a fucking taxi in Polish, and you didn’t even notice I’d gone.”

Merde.