Page 42 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Alaina

I can’t fucking ride with these fingers.

That truth is undeniable as I trudge back to the bus after bailing on a run before I even made it halfway down the mountain.

I had to make up some bullshit about my brakes before I hauled ass out of practice.

It’s not the pain, for once. It’s the grip. My hands shook when I hit the brakes too hard and gave out at the worst goddamn moment.

I’m not just off, I’m dangerous.

To myself, to the run, to the goal I’ve been bleeding toward for years.

No one should be at the bus, which is why I’m going there. Dane is still with Piper. Mason and Luc are probably still throwing themselves down the practice runs with their usual lack of self-preservation.

I haven’t seen Finn since track walk, and I’m not looking for him either.

Dragging my bike to the back of the bus, I shove it inside and lock it up harder than necessary before stalking back to the door and through the narrow aisle inside. Helmet off. The one glove I managed to wear flung somewhere. Jersey yanked over my head.

When I hit the shower stall, I lose my binder and padded shorts, only for Pierre to flop onto the floor.

I stare at him like he’s responsible for my shitty mood.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

He doesn’t respond. Obviously.

Useless piece of silicone.

Whatever.

The water is cold, but I can’t even enjoy the sting properly because I have to hold my damn hand out of the spray.

When it’s over, I’m dripping and no less furious, my towel wrapped around me like it can shield me from the spiral clawing at my ribs. My hair is wet. My pride is in shreds. I’ve got nothing left but stubbornness and a desire to punch a wall with the one hand I’ve still got working.

A knock echoes through the bus door, and I grit my teeth. “ Ugh , fuck off, Finn.”

I shuffle toward the front anyway, half-expecting to see his apologetic face through the little window.

Instead, I find Mason.

Why does this feel like déjà-vu?

I open the door without thinking, and his eyes flare at my outfit of one towel.

“Uh, I can come back lat?—”

“Get in.”

He hesitates, looking like he’s calculating whether this is a trap or just a truly terrible idea, but then he steps inside. I close the door and walk toward the back of the bus, where there aren’t any windows and nobody else can see me in my towel, and Mason follows close behind .

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks when I come to a stand and turn to face him, his tone deadpan, but his eyes scan me like he’s already worked it out.

“Nothing.”

“You didn’t even finish your run.”

I huff, irritated at being called out. Irritated at everything. “How would you know?”

He shrugs. “Told you I watch you. So what’s up?”

“I’m fine. Why don’t you go do some more runs?”

He ignores my bad mood, which makes it worse.

“I already did three. Thanks to Greer’s line choices, they were pretty damn clean. I’m feeling good.”

I dig my fingers into the towel, not wanting any of the warm fuzzies about Finn helping Mason, or Mason accepting help. None of it . “Where’s Luc?”

“Still finishing his laps. His team’s on a tighter schedule. He wanted to come, though. Told me to check on you.”

“Well, you did. I’m fine. Go back to him.”

“Alaina. ” His hands reach me, sliding up my upper arms in that slow, careful way of his. He steps closer, his dark eyes searching mine. “You’re not fine, and we all know it, but I don’t know if it’s pain or something else.”

I swallow roughly, and my eyes sting with impending tears.

I really don’t want to say this out loud.

“I can’t race with these fingers.”

He nods, not seeming at all surprised. “So what’s the plan? How do we fix it?”

“I was thinking duct tape.”

He huffs a laugh and raises a brow like he thinks I’m joking, gliding a hand down my arm again in a soothing gesture.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, lightly shaking him off. “It’s just hard, okay? Everything’s fucking hard. I’ve basically just realized that I won’t be able to do what I came here to do. The thing I spent years planning. And then there’s the other thing.”

He frowns. “The other thing?”

“I screwed up,” I say softly, avoiding his gaze. “I wanted to help you, fix things for you .”

He seems stunned by that for a second, then asks, “How were you gonna do that?”

“I don’t know.” I pull the towel tighter. “Get Isla to confess. Get close to her, maybe, but she’s done with me.” Tears threaten, but I sniff them back, frustration boiling over. “Probably because I crashed, and now I’m not good enough anymore for her to be interested.”

Isn’t that the whole damn problem?

“Hey,” he says quietly, tenderly. “That’s not true.”

“It is .” My voice cracks. “Everything keeps circling back to that. That I’m not enough, not strong enough, or fast enough. Not worth it.”

“ Bambi .” Mason cradles my cheek with his rough hand, his thumb grazing the ridge of my cheekbone. I lean into the touch before I can stop myself. “You spent years in pain for this plan, and you’ve just hit a huge obstacle in it. One that might make the plan not work.”

My chin wobbles under his touch, and his eyes soften with something almost reverent as he continues.

“After all that, what has you here, wanting to crash out by yourself in this dingy bus, is that you think you failed me. ” He holds me a little firmer, making sure I’m looking him directly in the eyes as he says, “You’re the best of all of us. This is not about you not being good enough.”

“But Isla?—”

“No.” He cuts me off. “Honestly, I don’t want you to make her confess anything. I already told you once, I don’t want you to get in my shit and fight my battles for me.”

“But you didn’t do it! It’s not fair.”

“I know that,” he murmurs, still stroking me like he can soothe the words into my skin. “You know. Luc knows. Everyone who matters to me knows that, okay? And since I have you guys in my corner…” He exhales slowly. “It doesn’t feel so bad anymore.”

“But it still ruined your name and reputation. And there’s the sponsors and?—”

He slides his hand to the back of my neck and leans in, his mouth brushing my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

“My name is just a name. I prefer being nobody .” He pulls me in so our foreheads touch. “I’ll keep standing, keep doing what I’m doing, and with you guys by my side, I’m fine . More than fine, really.”

He moves his head and nuzzles against me, then grazes his lips over where my neck meets my shoulder, the touch so soft that I can barely breathe.

“Don’t do reckless shit for me,” he whispers against my skin. “Don’t get close to her, only to get found out. I’d rather you stay safe than have my name cleared.”

“But why would you?—”

He tilts up my chin and kisses me, full of quiet conviction, pouring every unsaid word between us into it.

“Because the secret of the girl I’ve just realized I’m madly in love with is way more important than the shit anyone says about me.”

“ Mason ,” I rasp, barely more than a breath, my heart stumbling over itself.

“You’re my nobody, Alaina. But I want you to be my everything too.

” He cups my face in both hands, his eyes burning into mine.

“I know we said we want each other if Luc’s in the picture, but that’s not enough for me.

I want us, you and me. Not just because we both belong to him, but because you want me too. ”

I stare up at him, blinking through the ache behind my eyes as my heart flutters so fast it hurts.

“I do want you,” I whisper. “But Luc?—”

Mason’s lips tug into a crooked smile. “He already told me he wants that for us. Or, well, demanded it.”

I let out a short breath of laughter that’s half a sob because yeah, he so did.

“You know what that’s going to look like, right? To the media, to people, your dad? You being with me and him, and?—”

Mason raises an eyebrow. “Greer in the mix?” I glare, but he just grins like the smug bastard he is and presses another kiss to my mouth.

“You live pretty freely when you’ve got no reputation left to lose.

And honestly? I don’t give a fuck. I want you.

Luc. This . I was unhappy long enough. If you want me?—”

I rise onto my toes and kiss him, my fingers digging into his chest guard as his hands slide to the small of my back over my towel and pull me flush against him.

We’ve never needed words, but I give them to him anyway. “You’re my nobody too,” I whisper against his lips, my voice trembling from everything I feel but can’t say all at once. “And I want everything with you.”

He kisses me again, deeper this time, less carefully. When I wind my arms around his neck and pull him down to me, the towel slips, hitting the floor with a soft thud, and my hands slide from him as I curl in on myself, panicked for half a heartbeat before I remember.

This is Mason.

My nobody who sees my cracks and calls them beautiful .

His eyes flick down, tracing the length of me. “ Shite . You’re so damn beautiful.”

I almost laugh at his hoarse words, at how in sync we are without him realizing it.

He takes a knee to grab the towel on the floor, but I grip his shoulder, halting his movements. A question burns in his eyes as he looks up at me, spreading to his clenched jaw and the uneven rise and fall of his chest, but I don’t answer with words.

Standing tall, I push on his shoulder, keeping him down, and let him see it all—my want, my need, my full body.

He slides his hand around my thigh, flexing his fingers in a claiming grip before he lifts my leg and pulls it toward him, setting my foot on the edge of the bunk behind him.

And then I’m open to him, bare, flushed, and already aching.