Page 85 of Twisted Trails
So damn cute.
“Sorry,” she whispers to Mason, cheeks still red.
“Really, Delacroix?” Mason glares at me. “That’s not funny.”
“Oh, isn’t it?” I flash him my most innocent smile, which, let’s be real, isn’t fooling anyone. “I think it’s hilarious. That’s just what you guys wanted to do anyway.”
“Alaina didn’t consent to me kissing her.”
And just like that, the humor slips out of my chest, and guilt tightens in my throat. Becauseshit. I forgot. I forgot that for Mason, lines aren’t just lines, they’re boundaries built from scars, but before I can apologize, Alaina is already reaching across me, catching his hand.
“It’s okay.” Her eyes are fixed on his. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Youknowyou have my consent to touch me.” She glances at me, then back to him. “And to kiss me.”
Mason goes still as if he can’t quite believe what he just heard.
I, on the other hand, am vibrating with glee. “You heard her. She said shewantsyou to kiss her. Go on. Kiss. I wannaseethat.”
Mason shoots me another glare, then lunges. “You sly little bastard.”
His fingers hit my ribs, and I shriek-laugh like an idiot, twisting as he tickles me like he’s been waiting all day for this revenge. I try to fight him off, but I’m laughing too hard, breathless and squirming, and then Alaina joins in, teaming up with zero hesitation and tickling me with her good hand from the other side like they planned this shit in advance.
“Okay! Okay! I surrender!” I wheeze, flailing. “I surrender, I’m sorry!”
They collapse beside me, all breathless and triumphant.
Alaina curls into my left side, with her head on my chest, and I pull her closer to me, while Mason drops down on my right, one arm folded behind his head, the other finding my free one, his fingers slipping easily between mine.
I lay there, pinned between them, with flowers on my wrist and dirt on my skin, and my heart stretched impossibly full.
Yeah. Best fucking day of my life.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Alaina
The Kaiserschmarrn is warm and sweet, fluffy like clouds soaked in vanilla, and somehow, Piper managed to make it in a frying pan that is older than most of us.
I sit at the table with her on one side and Mason on the other, chewing slowly as I rub my neck. There’s a hickey there, one ofmany.
Luc went feral in the lavender field. When I caught my reflection the next morning, marked collarbone to ribs with purple-red declarations, my only thought was,is he an animal?
The answer isyes, but he’s my animal, and I don’t regret a damn second of it.
I scrape up the last bit of caramelized edge, chasing it across my plate before leaning back with a satisfied sigh. Piper made magic, real magic. Even Mason looks like he’s actually enjoying himself, his face relaxed, shoulders loose, and when I glance over, he’s already smiling at me.
And just like that, butterflies take off in my chest again, flapping straight up into my throat. It’s ridiculous how easyit is for him to make me nervous with just a look, considering he can calm me just as easily with another.
Our lips touched yesterday.
And I know he didn’twantthat, it was an accident, or rather, Luc being a menace, but here he is, close enough that I can smell him—pine, cold air, and something that reminds me of moss after rain—and my stupid lips remember the feel of his all too well.
I shift in my seat, pressing my palm over the fading mark on my neck again, but it doesn’t help. My gaze goes to Luc, who is busy charming the life out of Piper.
He’s got one leg kicked out, elbow on the table, grinning like sin as he says, “You should begrateful, you know. It’s just because I like you that I’m letting you put some aside for Otis and Dane. Tough luck when they sleep in.”
Piper rolls her eyes. “If you don’t save at least a little for Jim and Élise, I swear?—”
“Fine, fine.” Luc pulls his hands up like he’s surrendering. “You guilted me with the parents. That’s cruel.”
