Fuck.
We always said we’d stop together. We used to joke about it, retiring the same year, throwing a party, ditching the jerseys, and starting our own team. We said we’d build something.
But he stopped without me.
And now I’ve stopped without him.
That space between us, the years, the fallout, and the silence, it’s damn hard to put any of it into words, so I just nod.
“Because of her?”
I run a hand over my jaw.
Damn, I need to shave.
“It was time. That ending was overdue for a while now, but, yeah, she may have been the key factor.”
He nods like he understands more than he says. “So what now?”
I lean back, eyes drifting out the window. “I’ve got a plan, and I’m gonna do everything I can to make it real.”
He tilts his head. “What kind of plan?”
I smile at the thought of it. “I’ve got two juniors at home. A brother and sister I’ve been training for the past couple of years. Good kids. Better than good. They’ve got the fire.”
Dane’s eyes spark with interest. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that?”
“I don’t know. The timing never felt right, but I’m gonna introduce you when we’re in Mont-Sainte-Anne. You’ll love them. They train like hell, and their dream is to get to the circuit. My dream is to get them there.”
“And what’s keeping you from it?”
“Sponsors.” I frown, remembering the bitter disappointments. “I had one on the hook already, almost signed, but they bailed, said I wasn’t big enough to carry their name.”
“Fuckers.” He huffs. “Okay, so now you’re looking for other sponsors? How are you pitching that? Do you have a finance plan, a budget, a training plan?”
“Yeah, I’ve got everything. Did some seminars and shit.”
“Show me.”
“What?”
“Show me your pitch. The plans. Budget, projections, all of it.” Dane levels me with a serious look. “I studied finance, man. I know my way around analyzing and running numbers. I know what a good rider schedule looks like fromyears of doing this shit, and in case you forgot…” He smirks. “I also manage a world-class rider. Heard of him?”
“Right.” I laugh, despite myself. “That Allen Crews guy.”
He grins. “Exactly.”
I pull my laptop from my backpack, open the folder, and pass it over. “Knock yourself out.”
Dane sets it across his lap, clicking through the files. “Huh.” His voice is thoughtful. “This is actually pretty damn impressive.”
“Thanks.”
“You really want this,” he murmurs, and it’s not a question.
I glance at Alaina again.
“More thanalmostanything.”
