Page 236 of Rogue Riders Duet

Alaina peeks in, and her eyes go wide when she sees us. Mason is half in my lap, my hand still on his neck, both of us flushed, rumpled, too close, too intimate.

My heart leaps straight into my throat.

Fuck.

For a split second, something flickers in her expression, but then she just smiles sheepishly.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to check if you’re okay, but it looks like Luc has, umm… everything under control.”

“No.” I shake my head. “He needs both of us. Come here, Petite.” I pat the spot beside Mason, ignoring the way he’s stiffened again. “He needs an emotional support hug from both sides.”

She hesitates, eyes flicking to Mason, waiting for permission. They look at each other for several moments, and he relaxes against me before giving her one of those small, tired smiles that’s somehow still stupidly sweet, and my heart combusts.

She steps in and closes the door before crawling onto the bed with timid movements, like she’s afraid she’ll shift the balance just by being too much.

She has no idea that she is the balance.

We’re still sitting awkwardly, so I tug Mason with me as I lie back against the pillows. He follows without protest, his body warm and pliant against mine.

Alaina hovers, like she’s not sure how to fold into us, so I grasp her hip, and she follows my guidance to lie down behind Mason. She curls into him slowly, letting her taped fingers slip over his side and her other hand rest near mine on his chest. Taking her wrist, I tug her closer until we’re all wrapped up in one long, messy line.

Somehow, even with all the bruises and cracks and unfinished conversations between us, we fit.

No one speaks for a long moment, but then Alaina whispers to Mason, “You okay?”

He exhales slowly. “I am now.”

“Are we okay?” She swallows, and I feel her pulse jump beneath my fingers.

He nods. “Yeah, Bambi, we’re good.”

“We’re all gonna be fine,” I promise, tightening my hold around Mason and squeezing Alaina’s wrist. “I’ll make sure of it.”

And maybe it’s a lie. Maybe I can’t protect them from everything.

But I’ll bleed trying.

TWELVE

I wake up with a scream trapped in my throat.

It doesn’t make it past my lips—only a choked gasp does—like the dream carved straight through my lungs.

My heart is pounding, my skin is clammy, and everything aches like the past is still living under my skin. For a second, I’m nowhere, in a void filled with flashes of screams, IV lines, and Dane’s broken voice. Then the soft glow of the night-light steadies me, and the shadows stay where they belong.

I’m at Luc’s house.

My body remembers now.

I reach for my phone on the bedside table. It’s 2:04 a.m., and a quick glance confirms I’m alone in bed, which feels strange after yesterday.

After Luc pulled Mason into his room, and I walked in on them tangled in that something that made my chest ache, we all ended up in one bed for a while. Just lying there, breathing, Mason in the middle, me at his back, and Luc at his front. It felt so safe.

Then Élise called out that dinner was ready, so we went and ate. We laughed a little and pretended that everything outside this house didn’t exist for a few hours.

And after that, everyone went to their own rooms, even though part of me wanted to crawl between those two boys and never move again. I wanted to sleep curled against one and wake up tangled in both, like that’s the way things are supposed to be.

But it’s not supposed to be like that. Right?