Page 293 of Rogue Riders Duet

Élise

Good morning, chérie. I’m thinking about you. Hope today feels kind.

Élise has been texting me every morning since we left her house. Nothing dramatic, just softness. Steady warmth.

I like it way too much.

I send a quick good morning text back, then squint against the sun as my stomach growls, reminding me I took my pills on an empty stomach. Track walk is in twenty, so there’s no time to fix it. Fantastic.

Ready to stomp into another long day, I only make it two steps when a plastic sack hung on the side mirror catches my eye, swaying lightly in the breeze.

Weird?

I glance around, but no one is lingering nearby. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I grab it. Inside is a pastry wrapped loosely in paper—a fucking chocolate cornetto, the kind you only get fresh in Italy. Beside it, there’s a blue cornflower.

Bittersweet nostalgia slams into me, tightening my already bound chest. I would’ve known who left this even without the flower. Finn and Dane are the only people on the planet who know how much I obsessed over these pastries whenever the circuit brought us to Italy. I remember whining daily, begging for just one, while our team manager lectured me about sugar, training, and diets. Finn had been my savior, sneaking me pastries like contraband.

Warmth at the gesture loosens that tightness in my chest, but I push it away hard.

Using every piece of intel he has on me like it’s a cheat code is plain unfair.

My stomach growls again, and I shrug. Going to therapy deserves a damn treat. Peeling back the paper, I sink my teeth into the cornetto and groan as chocolate floods my tongue.

God, it’s perfect.

A metallic clinking from the other side of the bus draws my attention, and I carefully slip the wildflower back into the bag and hang it on the door to grab later. Stepping toward the sound, I find Finn and Jim bent over the engine compartment. Finn is dressed differently today, wearing a blue T-shirt and shorts, with a black cap pulled backward on his head. It feels strange, almost wrong, not seeing him in his usual red. The bruises blooming around his eyes are darkening to ugly shades of purple and green, and there’s still tape stretched across the bridge of his nose.

Why the hell am I even noticing?

I chew harder, watching Jim hand Finn a tool. It’s not my damn problem if he gets kicked off his team for skipping mandatory shit just because he’s got it in his head to fix this goddamn bus.

Except ugh. I can’t let that happen. I can’t feel guilty over yet another thing Finn Greer.

“Morning.”

Finn jerks upright, eyes wide like I just startled him awake, and Jim smiles. “Morning.”

Finn clears his throat. “Morning.”

“We’ve got track walk in a few.” I tilt my chin toward the gondola station. “You coming?”

“Uh.” Finn’s eyes meet mine, and he looks baffled by my implied invitation.

Same.

“Go on,” Jim says, gently nudging his shoulder and handing him a cloth to wipe his hands on. “I’ll finish up here while you’re gone.”

“Thanks.” Finn drags a hand through his messy blond hair, shoving his cap back into place as he steps toward me.

I take a step back. He’s too close, and he smells sweet, maple syrupy, and my chest does that stupid flutter it always does around him. But before I can take another step away, I get caught in the pull of those goddamn blue eyes.

“Al.” His voice is a whisper wrapped in a smirk, but it’s softer than usual. Sadder, almost. His gaze drops to my mouth, and my lungs forget how to work. “You⁠—”

“What?”

He reaches toward me, brushing the corner of my lips with his thumb. I hold my breath until his thumb slips away, but he doesn’t pull back. Instead, Finn brings that thumb to his mouth, eyes locked on mine as he slides it past his lips.

“Chocolate.”