Page 168 of Broken Breath
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t care if you’re gay or bi, or whatever. I’m bi too.”
I straighten. “You are?”
“I am.” His smirk curves slowly, but there’s something warm behind it. A glint in his eyes as he reaches up to brush a strand of hair from my face. His thumb lingers just a beat too long, and then he licks his lips. “And I don’t care if you’re into two guys, butthoseguys?” He snorts. “Come on. I know you could do so much better.”
Fuck.Is he talking about himself?
I swipe at my face with the back of my hand. “I don’t know what to do.”
Please, tell me what to do.
“You don’t have to do anything.” His hand rises again, and this time he carefully wipes a tear away with the side of his thumb.
“But…” I start, already unraveling again.
“They’re acting like fucking idiots. They don’t deserve you. Not right now at least. If they get their shit together? Maybe. But today? Fuck them both.”
I shoot him a look through the tears. “You’re not exactly unbiased.”
“True.” He shrugs, unapologetic. “But I didn’t almost get us all disqualified. That wasthem.”
“Ohreally?” I scoff. “You didn’t throw punches a few weeks back?”
“That wasdefending myself. Delacroix’s a hothead, and now apparently Greer’s joined the club.”
“He’s not usually.” I sag against him. “This is my fault.”
“Nope,” Mason says firmly. “They’re adults. They’re the ones making choices.”
It’s only then that I realize we’re still clinging to each other, his arms snug around my back, my hands curled at his shoulders like I forgot how to let go. I shift slightly, ready to pull back, but he just hugs me tighter.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I needed a hug too.”
That undoes me more than anything else.
I close my eyes and let my head rest against his collarbone, breathing in the quiet between us and his pine needles and fresh air scent. The weight of the day, the tension of the night before, it’s all still there, pressing on me heavily, but somehow, Mason’s grip keeps it from crushing me.
He holds the storm back without trying to fix it. Just holds me.
“Thank you,” I mutter. “And I’m sorry. This is all so… embarrassing.”
“It’s not.” Mason squeezes me once before leaning back to look at me, his dark eyes searching. “Not for yournobody.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Finn
The rain hasn’t let up for hours.
I sit hunched in the hot seat, an oversized umbrella clutched tightly in one hand, feeling the downpour drumming steadily against the nylon, but my jersey is soaked through anyway, cold water dripping from my sleeves and pooling at my elbows, and my boots are caked with half the damn mountain.
The screen in front of me flickers, catching up with Raine fighting his way down the track. Slippery roots, axle-deep mud, corners blown wide open, it’s a disaster run.
He’s wrestling the bike more than riding it, feet out on every second turn like he’s just trying to survive, and still, he posts the fastest time so far, but only because half the field either ate shit or got disqualified for accidentally leaving the track. Fucking Les Gets, it’s always the same story here. Survival of the luckiest.
I hate this damn track.
Tightening my grip on the umbrella, I glance up at the leaderboard again, where three names are left at the top.
