“There’s no PDA happening,” I hiss.
Otis raises a hand. “Delacroix is literally the embodiment of PDA.”
“True.” Luc shrugs, kissing my cheek before sprinting away to catch up with Mason and Finn. He claps Mason on the ass with a loud smack, which earns him a glare that could burn through carbon. I can’t help the chuckle that slips out of me.
“They’re cute together,” Piper says, sidling up to me.
“They are.” I smile, only to catch, out of the corner of my eye, other riders chuckling and whispering to each other, pointing at Mason, and my good mood turns sour. “I’m really fucking done with everyone thinking Mason did what he didn’t. We need a plan.” I glance pointedly at everyone left. “Group brain time.”
Dane huffs as he glances up the track. “We’ve been thinking about it, too, but the problem is, it’s her wordagainst his. We don’t have proof. Same issue with Raine and your bike.”
Piper frowns, chewing on her lip. “We need to get her to confess.”
“And how exactly do we do that?” Otis makes a face. “As if Isla Raine is gonna wake up one day and say,Oopsie, my bad.”
“I don’t know.” Piper sighs, then levels me with a calculating look. “Didn’t she give you her number?”
“She did,” I mutter, not liking where this is going.
“Do you still have it?”
“No.”
As if I would have saved that on my phone.
Piper frowns. “Okay, what if you, like befriend her? Hang out with her? Go on a date and maybe woo her into telling you the truth.”
I look at her like she’s lost her damn mind. “And then she’ll just blurt out,Hey, I make up sexual assault allegations for fun, wanna be next?” Otis snorts, and I grin at him despite the awful topic. “She only flirted with me last time because I was on top of the league. You know her game.”
Dane’s hand slides around my forearm and squeezes me in warning. I shut my mouth fast, glancing at him.
He nods his head to the left, and Isla and Isaac come strolling by, flanked by their line spotters. Isla and I lock gazes as she passes, but her expression is cold.
Otis elbows me. “Now or never,Romeo.”
Fuck.
Before I can think better of it, I prepare my too-deep voice and step toward her. “Isla, wait.”
Dane and Otis snicker behind me, but I just jog forward, my boots scraping against gravel, heart hammering like I’m about to drop into a finals run.
Apparently, asking out a girl I hate makes me nervous.
“Hey,” I say as I fall into step beside her.
She glances at me but says absolutely nothing.
Oh shit.Abort. Abort.
“I… uh… I lost your number,” I blurt instead of turning right back around, like I should, immediately regretting every life choice that led to this moment.
Isaac snorts from her other side so loudly it echoes off the trees.
“Oh, you did?” Isla’s eyebrow arches. “Did you chop off your hand?”
“What? No, I just…” I blink, scrambling. “I washed them. The number was gone.”
She stops walking, and so does Isaac. He hovers just behind her with his arms crossed, smirk locked in place.
