Page 110 of Rogue Riders Duet

“Salut, mes amis,” Luc greets, way too cheerfully for the tension crackling in the air. “What are we talking about? Rocks? Regret? Or maybe we skip to the part where I tell you to keep your fucking hand off my guy?”

He squeezes my shoulder possessively, then tucks me into his side. Mason’s gaze flicks between Luc and me, clouding over with something like betrayal. I don’t like it, so I shrug off Luc’s arm.

“I’m not your fucking guy.”

Luc’s brow furrows, a flicker of hurt in his eyes. I don’t like that either.

“Oh, so in private you’re on my side, but out here, you’re on his?”

“I’m on nobody’s side,” I snap. “I’m on my own fucking side.”

Luc smirks, turning to Mason. “He has attachment issues.”

“What the fuck are you even…” I start, but my words falter as Finn and his teammates walk past.

My heart sinks as something inside me crumples, and I let it show before I can stop it. When I look back at Luc, his eyes are sharp on mine before they follow Finn’s retreating figure.

He reaches into his hoodie, pulls out Toulouse, and thrusts the rat toward me. “Here. Hold.”

“No, Luc,” I protest, holding the rat at arm’s length as Luc strides after Finn.

“Yo, Papi!” Luc calls after him, but Finn doesn’t respond. Luc catches up and gets in his space, nearly tripping him before grabbing his shoulder. “Easy there, Papi.”

“I’m not your fucking grandpa.” Finn scowls, annoyed. “What do you want, Delacroix?”

They continue walking, their voices fading into the wind and muffled by crunching gravel. Luc punches Finn’s shoulder, way too hard for it to be casual. Finn winces and rubs it, shooting him a look that says he’s one second away from putting Luc through a wall.

But I can’t watch what happens next because Toulouse starts climbing up my outstretched arm like it’s a jungle gym. I freeze, the panic crawling up my spine just slightly faster than the rat itself.

He makes it to my elbow, and I lose it. “Shit, shit, shit!”

The sound I make next isn’t human. It’s somewhere between a squeak and a strangled scream, way too high and way too not masculine. My cover has held through crash landings, oversized hoodies, and sobbing in the dark, but it might just be ended by this rat.

“Jesus.” Mason steps back into my line of sight and plucks Toulouse off my arm. “What are you even doing?”

“Thanks.” I sigh in genuine relief, my heart still jackhammering in my chest.

Mason cups the rat in one hand and starts stroking its tiny head with his thumb. “You’re such a cute little fucker.”

“No, he’s not. Look at the tail.”

“The tail?” Mason scoffs. “Look at the face. The dumb little paws. He’s cute as shit.”

I stare wide-eyed at him, stunned. “You’re into Luc’s rat?”

“The rat can’t do fuck all about being Luc’s,” he says with a shrug. “That’s not on him.”

Toulouse, clearly thrilled with his new best friend, scrambles up Mason’s arm, runs across his shoulder, and sits there like he belongs.

I stare, absolutely floored. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Mason just smirks. “Some people have charm. I have rat appeal.”

I nearly roll my eyes at that lame line, but huff a laugh instead, just as Luc strides back toward us with smugness dialed to eleven, until he sees Toulouse perched on Mason’s shoulder like a damn parrot and stops dead. “What the fuck?”

Mason just reaches up to scratch behind Toulouse’s ear, the smallest, shittiest smirk on his face.

“Is he…” Luc’s eyes dart between Mason and me. “He’s not… Toulouse, are you serious right now?”