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,PetitCrews. 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.”
I meet his gaze straight on. “I’m not your friend.”
His grin falters a little, and there’s a flicker in those too-blue eyes, like someone pulled a curtain over the sun. Fuck. I drop my gaze with a huff and dig my heels into the pedals.
I’m not here to make friends.
Friends mean giving pieces of yourself away, and I don’t have any spare pieces left.
I came here for one thing. Gold. The podium. The fucking top. And when I’ve got that, when the circuit knows my name, when Raine’s face falls in slow motion at the finish line, then I’ll disappear. That’s always been the plan.
Where I’m going, I don’t need friends.
And even if I did, whose friends would they be?Allen’s?Alaina’s?
The broken shell of a girl with a borrowed name and stitched-up identity?
Any friendships built here would be forged on a lie and wouldn’t be real, not even close. Because I’m not Alaina anymore. And I’m sure as hell not Allen.
I’m nobody.
The thought sticks like a splinter under my skin.
Nobody.God, I’m so fucking stupid.
I don’t know why I said that to Mason yesterday, like it meant something. LikeImeant something to him.What was I even thinking?And why do I feel such a kinship withhim? It feels like we’ve both been fucked over, and we’re in the same corner, even though he doesn’t know it.
He’snotmy friend either. I don’t know him, and I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care that they treat him like shit and that he’s been made the villain when he’s not. I care that I ruined the truce we had.
I grit my teeth and shift into a harder gear, slamming my legs against the resistance and letting the burn in my thighs shove Mason’s eyes, Luc’s grin, Finn’s teasing voice, and my hurting body down into the dark.
I’m here to win.
Nothing else.
More and more women roll their bikes to the start gate, and it hits me that I could be one of them right now.
