Page 114 of Broken Breath
“Bathe. Full body immersion,” he says with a dramatic hand gesture down his perfectly shaped body. “They’re these fluffy, shredded pancakes? Drenched in powdered sugar and jam. Sweet, buttery, caramelized sin.”
I actually had one with Dane and Finn the last time we raced here. We’d crammed into a corner booth after practice, Finn snatching bites from my plate, Dane pretending to be mad about it.
I shove that memory down hard and fast.
“What do you think?” Luc’s blue eyes twinkle before they heat up a notch. “Or did you come over for another cuddle session? I’m down for that too.”
“No.” I bite my lip, and his gaze follows the movementbefore he searches the rest of my face, and the flirt vanishes from his face in a blink.
“You okay?” He tilts his head and squints at me like he’s trying to x-ray my bones. “Did you hurt yourself during practice?”
“No.”
I did the bare minimum today, just enough not to raise questions. Skipped the segments where I’d normally push myself and let the others ride ahead while I hung back like I was line-watching, which is total bullshit.
Luc steps closer. “Is the bruise still hurting? Fuck, I haven’t even looked.” He reaches out, his fingers brushing the hem of my hoodie like he’s about to lift it.
“Luc.” I catch his wrist. “It’s not that. Is Piper here?”
His brows pull together. “Why?”
“I need her.”
“Then let’s get her.” He grabs my hand and leads me through the pit, nodding to people as we pass, and I feel the questioning glances, the ones that wonder what I’m doing here, but Luc doesn’t seem to care.
He pushes open the back door to the massage and recovery area like he owns the place. “Otis, get your naked ass out of here!”
“Delacroix!” Piper’s voice snaps from inside. “You can wait for your session like everybody else!”
“I sure can…” Luc says smoothly, “… butPetitCrews can’t.”
A beat of silence follows, then Piper appears in the doorway, mouth already in a frown as she scans me from head to toe. “You okay?”
I shake my head minutely, just once.
Otis emerges from the room behind her, bare-chested, zipping up his shorts. And sure, he’s hot, likerealhot. Pro rider hot. But standing next to Luc Delacroix?
Not even in the same solar system.
Luc claps Otis on the back. “Come on,mon ami, I’ll grab you a Kaiserschmarrn. We’ll bond. I’ll feed you with a fork.”
“Pass. On the feeding part,” Otis mutters, tugging his shirt over his head with a huff as he walks out.
Luc lingers in the doorway, but his attention shifts back to me. He leans closer, voice soft. “I’ll find you when you’re done, yeah?”
He’s smilingthatsmile, the one that melts your brain when you look at it too long. Something bright and genuine flashes in his eyes, like the chaos has burned off for a second, and all that’s left is warmth.
They hit me right in the gut.
Butterflies.
Stupid, traitorous butterflies.
My lips twitch in barely a smile, but of course, he catches it and smiles even brighter. I reach up and press my palm to his cheek, pushing his face gently to the side like I’m shoving away the sun.
“Go,” I say.
He laughs in delight all the way out.
