I brace myself for a kiss, but instead, his lips brush against my cheek, featherlight, barely there, but it feels like a detonation as butterflies erupt, scattering wildly beneath my ribs.
“Bonne nuit, mon Petit,” Luc murmurs, his voice thicker with something more than his usual charm.
I swallow hard, and it’s a miracle I manage anything at all. “Good night.”
He doesn’t let go right away but lingers close enough that I swear I can feel the brush of his breath at the corner of my mouth, like he might kiss me after all.
Like he’s thinking about it.
I sure am thinking about it.
The tension coils tighter, but then, mercifully,or torturously, he pulls back with a low chuckle, his eyes flicking over me like he knowsexactlywhat kind of mess he’s leaving behind.
And just like that, he strolls out into the night, leaving me standing there, heart hammering against my ribs, warmth still blooming where his lips touched, already missing the weight of his hand on me.
I glare down at my shaking knees and whisper to myself,“Get it together, Crews.”
After a few deep breaths, I walk to the front, grabbing the trophy of my win from Leogang, where it’s still sitting behind the passenger seat. It’s heavier than it should be.
Then, I head to the back, climb into my bunk, and let myself fall back against the thin mattress, the trophy balanced on my stomach, one hand absently stroking its side like it might tell me what comes next.
What the fuck am I even doing with Luc?
I’m not here for him.
But I’m closer to accomplishing what I came here for, aren’t I?
I beat Raine. Fuck, I beat every single one of them.
I let myself feel it, the quiet surge of something close to pride.
This wasn’t luck. It was earned and is mine.
Closing my eyes, I press my fingertips into the cold metal and breathe. I feel the weight of it in my hand, of the proof. I’m not the girl Raine almost buried in Snowshoe anymore. I’m the one crawling out of her grave, bloody and grinning. Revenge has been the thing in my lungs for so long I forgot what it’s like to breathe anything else, but this is what it tastes like to be close.
To be winning.
I can almost see the end now. I can fucking do this.
I’m almost done hurting.
Almost done with all of it.
A flicker of a crooked grin and a stupid pink bike flash behind my eyelids, and a voice in the back of my mind whispers,What’s with Luc?
The bus creaks as Dane climbs in, making me set the trophy down on the floor under my so-called bed. His footsteps are familiar as he makes his way to the back and slides into his bunk across from mine.
“You feeling any better?” he asks, voice soft in the dim light.
I roll onto my side, propping my head on my arm. “Better. Still aching everywhere, but better.”
Dane huffs a little laugh. “Yeah, that’s what eight hours of sleep will do for you. You should try that more often.”
I snort, pushing my hair out of my face. “Look who’s talking. How are you feeling?”
He leans his head back against the wall, and for once, there’s color in his face. “Much better.”
I can’t help but grin. “Oh? That anything to do with a certain blonde physio?”
