He’s still smiling when a ripple of noise runs through the people gathered around, and we both turn toward the track as Raine barrels into view, crossing the line. I glance up at the board.
Yep, I’mstill first.
Fuck you, Raine.
“Who would’ve thought after your little late-night adventure yesterday?” Mason side eyes me.
Did he see us leave?
I grimace as guilt swarms my stomach, thinking about the disaster that was last night.
A disaster wrapped around the best damn kiss I’ve ever had.
Not that there were others to compare it to, besides Finn’s mistake kisses. But Lucwantedto kiss me, really wanted to. That made a difference, even though he didn’t really know who he was kissing.
God.
“Sorry.” I cringe, turning toward him. “I should’ve asked if you wanted to come.”
“Fuck no.” Mason laughs again. “Nobody would’ve wanted that. Me the least.”
“You’re not into clubbing?”
“Not even a little.” His mouth quirks. “But next time we’re in England or Scotland, I’ll take you to a proper pub.”
I grin, feeling lighter from the easy conversation. “Deal?”
He tips his chin at me. “Deal.”
Someone taps my shoulder, and I turn, finding Finn standing behind me, his red jersey splattered with mud just like Mason’s and mine are.
So much for feeling lighter.
“Can we…” He shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight, “… talk for a second?”
I frown, taking him in. He lookstired,defeated, and so young, like the Finn who used to sit next to me at the bottom of the pits after bad runs, kicking dirt over my shoes until I smiled, but this is not the same Finn anymore. That Finn would not have called me a mistake, no matter what I did, and maybe it’s petty, maybe it’s selfish, but I’m done being the first one to bend.
I lift my chin. “I’m having a conversation right now.”
Mason glances between the two of us, eyebrows lifting. “Well, I could?—”
“No.” I cut him off before he could even finish his offer.
Mason’s eyes search mine for a moment, then he nods, shifting his weight back onto his bike.
“Yeah,” he says to Finn. “We’re talking.”
Finn’s mouth hardens into a line. “I can wait.”
People stir again, and our attention automatically turns toward the screen as Luc comes down the final section. We all watch as he barrels into the finish, a pink blur of speed and mud, but even he doesn’t touch my time.
What the fuck?
Mason lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit, you’re in a flow for real. Beating Delacroix on his home turf?”
I can’t help the way my smile spreads, lighting up my whole damn face.
Confidence.The real kind. The kind that doesn’t have anything to do with spite, vengeance, or proving somebody wrong.
