Page 125 of Twisted Trails
I shuffle toward the front anyway, half-expecting to see his apologetic face through the little window.
Instead, I find Mason.
Why does this feel like déjà-vu?
I open the door without thinking, and his eyes flare at my outfit of one towel.
“Uh, I can come back lat?—”
“Get in.”
He hesitates, looking like he’s calculating whether this is a trap or just a truly terrible idea, but then he steps inside. I close the door and walk toward the back of the bus, where there aren’t any windows and nobody else can see me in my towel, and Mason follows close behind.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks when I come to a stand and turn to face him, his tone deadpan, but his eyes scan me like he’s already worked it out.
“Nothing.”
“You didn’t even finish your run.”
I huff, irritated at being called out. Irritated ateverything.“How would you know?”
He shrugs. “Told you I watch you. So what’s up?”
“I’m fine. Why don’t you go do some more runs?”
He ignores my bad mood, which makes it worse.
“I already did three. Thanks to Greer’s line choices, they were pretty damn clean. I’m feeling good.”
I dig my fingers into the towel, not wanting any of the warm fuzzies about Finn helping Mason, or Mason accepting help.None of it. “Where’s Luc?”
“Still finishing his laps. His team’s on a tighter schedule. He wanted to come, though. Told me to check on you.”
“Well, you did. I’m fine. Go back to him.”
“Alaina.” His hands reach me, sliding up my upper arms in that slow, careful way of his. He steps closer, his dark eyes searching mine. “You’re not fine, and we all know it, but I don’t know if it’s pain or something else.”
I swallow roughly, and my eyes sting with impending tears.
I really don’t want to say this out loud.
“I can’t race with these fingers.”
He nods, not seeming at all surprised. “So what’s the plan? How do we fix it?”
“I was thinking duct tape.”
He huffs a laugh and raises a brow like he thinks I’m joking, gliding a hand down my arm again in a soothing gesture.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, lightly shaking himoff. “It’s just hard, okay? Everything’s fucking hard. I’ve basically just realized that I won’t be able to do what I came here to do. The thing I spentyearsplanning. And then there’s the other thing.”
He frowns. “The other thing?”
“I screwed up,” I say softly, avoiding his gaze. “I wanted to help you, fix things foryou.”
He seems stunned by that for a second, then asks, “How were you gonna do that?”
“I don’t know.” I pull the towel tighter. “Get Isla to confess. Get close to her, maybe, but she’s done with me.” Tears threaten, but I sniff them back, frustration boiling over. “Probably because I crashed, and now I’m not good enough anymore for her to be interested.”
