Chapter 21 #3
Racers and their teams are scattered along the track, but there are also girlfriends, coaches, and trail dogs. Track walks are open to anyone a rider wants to bring along, so it’s packed.
Luc smirks, mischievous and completely unbothered. “Yes, here,” he insists, leaning in and stealing a lightning-fast kiss from my lips.
I glance around again in alarm, my heart hammering as I look for anyone who might’ve seen us, but relax when I see no one is paying us any attention. Luc’s triumphant grin stays in place even as I shove him away with a smile of my own.
“You good, Bambi?” Mason asks as he and Finn overtake us again, pausing their conversation about line choice and braking zones.
I nod just as Dane, Piper, and Otis catch up.
“Fucking concentrate, Al,” Dane says in warning. “This track’s only gonna get harder with your fingers. And seriously?” He cuts a glare at Mason. “Does he call you Bambi because our mom died when you were little?”
I nearly choke.
What the actual hell?
Mason halts a few feet ahead, whipping around with a full-body cringe. “Fuck, no.”
Luc snorts. “It’s the eyes, mon ami. Total Bambi.”
“I thought it was because Bambi’s actually a boy, but everyone thinks he’s a girl at first,” Otis adds.
“Riiight.” Piper grins. “I thought that, too, when I watched it.”
I groan. “Can we all shut up? There are people around.”
Dane narrows his eyes. “Oh, so Delacroix can go all PDA and tongue your throat, but we’re not allowed to talk?”
“There’s no PDA happening,” I hiss.
Otis raises a hand. “Delacroix is literally the embodiment of PDA.”
“True.” Luc shrugs, kissing my cheek before sprinting away to catch up with Mason and Finn. He claps Mason on the ass with a loud smack, which earns him a glare that could burn through carbon. I can’t help the chuckle that slips out of me.
“They’re cute together,” Piper says, sidling up to me.
“They are.” I smile, only to catch, out of the corner of my eye, other riders chuckling and whispering to each other, pointing at Mason, and my good mood turns sour.
“I’m really fucking done with everyone thinking Mason did what he didn’t.
We need a plan.” I glance pointedly at everyone left. “Group brain time.”
Dane huffs as he glances up the track. “We’ve been thinking about it, too, but the problem is, it’s her word against his. We don’t have proof. Same issue with Raine and your bike.”
Piper frowns, chewing on her lip. “We need to get her to confess.”
“And how exactly do we do that?” Otis makes a face. “As if Isla Raine is gonna wake up one day and say, Oopsie, my bad.”
“I don’t know.” Piper sighs, then levels me with a calculating look. “Didn’t she give you her number?”
“She did,” I mutter, not liking where this is going.
“Do you still have it?”
“No.”
As if I would have saved that on my phone.
Piper frowns. “Okay, what if you, like befriend her? Hang out with her? Go on a date and maybe woo her into telling you the truth.”
I look at her like she’s lost her damn mind. “And then she’ll just blurt out, Hey, I make up sexual assault allegations for fun, wanna be next?” Otis snorts, and I grin at him despite the awful topic. “She only flirted with me last time because I was on top of the league. You know her game.”
Dane’s hand slides around my forearm and squeezes me in warning. I shut my mouth fast, glancing at him.
He nods his head to the left, and Isla and Isaac come strolling by, flanked by their line spotters. Isla and I lock gazes as she passes, but her expression is cold.
Otis elbows me. “Now or never, Romeo.”
Fuck.
Before I can think better of it, I prepare my too-deep voice and step toward her. “Isla, wait.”
Dane and Otis snicker behind me, but I just jog forward, my boots scraping against gravel, heart hammering like I’m about to drop into a finals run.
Apparently, asking out a girl I hate makes me nervous.
“Hey,” I say as I fall into step beside her.
She glances at me but says absolutely nothing.
Oh shit. Abort. Abort.
“I… uh… I lost your number,” I blurt instead of turning right back around, like I should, immediately regretting every life choice that led to this moment.
Isaac snorts from her other side so loudly it echoes off the trees.
“Oh, you did?” Isla’s eyebrow arches. “Did you chop off your hand?”
“What? No, I just…” I blink, scrambling. “I washed them. The number was gone.”
She stops walking, and so does Isaac. He hovers just behind her with his arms crossed, smirk locked in place.
“Right.” Isla surveys me like I’m a particularly unimpressive trail feature.
“I’m sorry,” I add quickly. “Do you… want to hang out sometime?”
“No.”
Ouch.
Her eyes trail down to my bandaged fingers, then back up.
“You had your chance, rookie.”
She flicks her perfect blonde hair over her shoulder and keeps walking.
Isaac lingers just long enough to give me the full effect of his smirk. “Damn, rookie, I would be so embarrassed if I were you right now.” Then he whistles lowly and follows her.
And I’m left standing there. Fist clenched, face burning, and heart pounding like a fucking idiot.
Perfect.