Page 135 of Rogue Riders Duet

Can’t wait to see you! Je t’aime.

I smile and let the warmth that her message stirred up sit in my chest for half a second before I shut off the screen, ignoring the sea of unread messages. I don’t need that noise today.

As I slip my phone back into my pocket, I catch sight of Piper walking past, moving quickly, like she’s got somewhere to be.

“And where are you going?” I call after her, making Otis turn too.

Piper glances back, adjusting the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. “I’m going to see if the Crews bus needs a driver.”

I blink. “What?”

She shrugs. “Dane’s still half-dead from that plague or whatever he’s got, and Al is hurting too. Someone’s gotta make sure they get to France safely, and I just saw Greer getting onto his own team bus.”

Piper tips her chin toward the lot, and I follow her gaze just in time to catch sight of said bus pulling out, gliding down the road, with Greer sitting by a window.

What a fucking asshole.

But hell, I’m no better. I didn’t even think about it, so used to our setup, to the paid drivers and comfy seats, that I didn’t stop to imagine Dane and Petit doing that haul solo. Just the two of them, one still coughing up a lung, the other so stubborn that he’d drive even though he’s hurting worse than any of us.

I shake my head, guilt spiking hot and fast.

“I’m coming with,” I announce, already slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“Hell yeah!” Otis perks up instantly, grinning widely. “I always wanted to drive a bus like that.”

Piper gives us both a look, all raised brows and dry sarcasm. “Oh yeah, they’re gonna love that.”

But I’m already moving, Toulouse burrowing deeper into my hood like he knows we’ve got shit to do. Petit might be too damn proud to ask for help, but I’m not the kind of guy who needs an invitation anyway.

The Crews’ bus is just easing out of the parking lot when we catch up, rolling slow, like even the damn thing knows it’s carrying too much weight in the form of two stubborn idiots who’d rather run themselves into the ground than ask for help.

Petit is behind the wheel, head barely peeking over the dashboard, hands gripping it like he’s steering a ship through a hurricane. And damn if it isn’t the most ridiculous thing, adorable and somehow hot at the same time, watching him, as small as he is, behind the wheel of that monster of a bus.

Piper steps up to the side, waving a hand, motioning for him to open the door. Petit seems confused, but leans forward and flips the latch, the door hissing open as we climb aboard.

“Hey.” He eyes us warily, one hand still on the wheel. “Did you forget something?”

We file in without asking, Otis beaming like a kid on a field trip, me trailing behind, my eyes sweeping the interior until they land on Dane, slumped at the little table toward the back. Still looks like shit.

Piper drops her bag to the floor and turns back toward Petit, her no-nonsense look plastered all over her face. “No, I just figured you guys might not be up for driving all that way yourselves.”

She hooks a thumb at me and Otis. “These two idiots tagged along, but hey, the bus is big enough.”

Petit’s eyes narrow slightly, hands tightening on the wheel. “That’s… very thoughtful,” he says carefully. “But we’ll manage.”

Piper shakes her head, crossing her arms. “You probably would manage, but you don’t have to. So…” She turns to us, raising her brows. “Who’s taking the first shift?”

Otis’s hand shoots up like he really is in kindergarten. “Me!”

I grin, leaning back against the seat, crossing my feet at the ankles. “Yeah, I’ll drive when we hit France. Get you all home in one piece.”

Petit opens his mouth, ready to argue again, that little frown tightening between his brows, but there’s something softer there too. Something tired.

I catch it. Piper catches it too.

She raises a finger, cutting him off before he even gets going. “Uh-uh. Doctor’s orders.”

Petit glares, his chin lifting. “You said you weren’t a real doctor.”