Before he can decide which one to ask, the blonde woman steps in. “I’ll take this session.”
Luc turns toward her, his brows pulling together. “What?”
“You can have your massage with Karl. I’ve got a free hour. I’ll work with him.”
Luc blinks. “Really?”
“I don’t want—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Delacroix’s right.” She steps forward and catches my forearm. “You need the session, or your body’s going to seize up by tomorrow.” She squeezes gently, and her eyes meet mine. There’s a glint in them, a silentplay along.
What the fuck is going on?
“Ah…” Luc smirks, cocking his head. “You’ve got a thing for younger guys, Piper? Just don’t steal him. I’m starting to like having him around.”
The woman, Piper, rolls her eyes hard enough thatit should be audible. “Shut up, Delacroix.”
She guides me out of the room and through the second door, into a smaller room.
“I don’t?—”
“Relax,” she cuts me off gently as the door clicks shut behind us but doesn’t let go of me until I’ve stopped moving. “I’ve been doing this a long time. Studied the body inside and out. I know my way around anatomy.”
Fuck.
My breath stutters in my throat. I can’t seem to pull in a full one.
“Don’t worry. Karl was too distracted by the bruising and those scars,” she continues, like she didn’t just figure outmy secret.
Shit. Shit.
Panic claws up the inside of my ribs like it’s trying to dig out. Stepping back automatically, my legs brush the edge of the massage table.
I feel exposed, cornered, and caught, and my body screams at me to run.
Piper just watches with her arms crossed, not crowding me, only waiting for me to settle myself.
“I’ll keep your secret.”
I blink. “W-why?”
She shrugs, casual but not careless. “I’m just… interested. You would easily be the best female rider on the circuit, but you’re riding with the guys. And you’regood.” She lets that sit, then tilts her head. “So what’s the angle,Crews? Why does it feel like no one else knows what I do?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“But thereisan angle.”
I nod. Barely.
“Someone in particular?”
Another nod.
“Delacroix?”
I shake my head so fast it’s almost a reflex.
“Good,” she mutters. “I like the idiot.”
