Page 65 of Rogue Riders Duet

“Hey!” I snap as I aim my glare at the guy, but he’s already walking off.

“Don’t be like that, Petit,” Luc says as he flicks my nose. Flicks it. “There’s space for everyone. Right, Greer?”

“Sure.” Finn doesn’t miss a beat. “There’s always space for Delacroix. Whether we want there to be or not.”

Luc chuckles like he didn’t catch the dig. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. He swings his leg over his bike, clips in, and starts spinning like he owns the mountain. It was already tight here before, but now it’s too tight. I’ve got a Luc Delacroix elbow six inches from my face.

“Isn’t there…” I stop and clear my throat, lowering my voice. “Isn’t there anywhere else you could go?”

“What?” Luc tilts his head with mock innocence. “You don’t want to share your space with me? I shared my physio with you, didn’t I?”

Ah, fuck.

“What?” Dane asks, drawing our attention. “What did he just say?”

“I’ll explain later,” I mutter to him as a fresh bead of sweat trickles down my spine, then glare at Luc. “And that was you apologizing.”

“For what?” Finn asks, perking up like a bloodhound catching a scent.

“Yeah,” Dane adds, glancing between us. “For what?”

“Oh, mon amis,” Luc says with a shitty little smile. “I have some secrets with Petit.”

Finn laughs and reaches for his water bottle. “Al doesn’t have secrets.”

I glance at him using my nickname, then at Dane, who just shrugs.

I hate that I still can’t figure out whether Finn is fucking with me.

Luc hums. “I don’t know. I think Petit Crews is full of surprises.” His tone dips just enough to make it suggestive, and I narrow my eyes at him. “You’ve got this look,” he adds. “Like you’re always ready to bite someone. But maybe, deep down…” His grin stretches his mustache. “You just want someone to bite you first, hmm?”

Finn coughs loudly, almost choking on the drink of water he just took. Dane shoots Luc a glare so sharp it could cut tires.

God.

I shift in my saddle, just a little.

Why the hell did that line go straight to my pussy? Which is, for the record, currently buried under three layers of padding, reinforced spandex, and a pair of rolled-up socks pretending to be balls.

Absolutely zero business feeling anything.

Luc grins like a maniac, way too close for comfort.

Fucking Frenchman.

His knee brushes against my thigh. He doesn’t seem to notice, but it makes my pulse stutter.

“Back off.” I push his head away from me, and my fingers catch on the soft curls of the back of his ridiculous mullet.

He laughs, loud and unrestricted, like I just gave him a present, and that’s when my pulse catches up with me. And I hiccup.

I throw a quick glance at Luc, only to find that his eyes have fucking lit up in delight.

“Greer, tell me that’s not the cutest damn thing you’ve ever heard,” he says to Finn with a chuckle.

Finn bites his lip and shakes his head, and I glare at both of them, my cheeks burning.

Luc leans in toward me, his eyes crinkling with mischief. “Don’t be embarrassed, Petit Crews. I’m just saying, you’re tiny, full of fury, and you hiccup like a cartoon rat. It’s practically a public service to tease you. That’s what friends do.”