“I’m wearing only a hoodie and shorts, man.”
Luc doesn’t even look back. “Yeah, and you’ll have to strip for the massage anyway, so what’s the difference?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Luc,” I protest, twisting out of his grip, “I don’t want to.”
“I know.” He doesn’t let go. “But you will. Trust me. It’s the best drug you’ve never tried.”
Once my bare feet hit the ground outside the bus, I dig my toes into the dirt as I resist again. “I’m not even wearing shoes.”
I finally manage to yank Luc to a stop, and he turns back to me and glances down.
Then he grins. “Even your feet arepetit.”
I expect him to start pulling again, but instead, he drops my wrist, crouches, and grabs my thighs.
The next thing I know, I’mairborne.He lifts me like I weigh nothing, swings me right onto his back, and my legs hook instinctively around his waist.
“What thefuckare you doing?” My hands fly to his shoulders, gripping hard.
His back issolidbeneath his soft T-shirt, stretched across his broad, muscular form, and he’s warm. Too warm.
“Giving you a piggyback ride.” He casually hooks his arms under my knees like this is something we dodaily. Touching my bare skin.Fuck. “You hurting?”
All the fucking time.
“No,” I snap. “But let medown!”
“Non.” He shifts me higher on his back, completely unbothered by the way I tense, but I can’t help it. I canfeelthe movement of his muscles under my palms. “You Americans and your fear of touch.” He shakes his head like he’s disappointed and starts walking, basically kidnapping me. “Just because I have my hands on you doesn’t mean we’re automatically gay.”
I flush, heat crawling up my neck. “I didn’tsaythat.”
“You werethinkingit.”
“Iwasn’t.”
“You were,” he says smugly. “You were like, ‘Oh no, what if people see my thighs wrapped around this beautiful man’s waist and assume I’ve fallen in love with him, like everybody else?’” He gasps. “Scandal.”
“Delacroix,” I hiss out.
But he just laughs, easy and free, as always.
And I hate how much I notice it. Noticehim.He smells like mint gum, sunscreen, and the faint, sharp edge of the lavender oil the physios use. The same oil I use every day to massage my tense muscles. His skin is warm against theinsides of my thighs, and it makes my chest feel too tight. Or maybe it’s my pulse. Maybe it’s myentire nervous system.
This is so stupid, he’s not evendoinganything, but my heart is pounding, my face is hot, and apparently, my body has decided to betray me entirely because when I open my mouth to snap something back, I…
Hiccup.
Luc comes to a sudden halt. “Whatwasthat?”
My nails dig into his shoulders. “Shut up.”
“No, seriously.” He twists his head to look at me, grinning like crazy. “Did you just hiccup?”
“No.”
“That wasadorable,PetitCrews. Do it again.”
