Choking down a banana, I make my way out of the van to face Reid. I hope he’s not shirtless. I’m not sure if he thinks he’s helping by making me fixate on the tension between us instead of the competition or what, but it feels like he’s intentionally torturing me.
I can’t remember the last time I saw him with a shirt on. He uses every excuse he can to touch me. Innocent touches—anyone could see them as merely friendly—but my skin feels hot every time.
Thankfully, he’s fully clothed.
He’s wearing his Blondie shirt, which matches my own. Mine’s a long sleeve, covered in brand logos, and it compliments my new hot pink riding pants perfectly. I look hot, and I can admit it for once without feeling like I’m doing a cheesy affirmations exercise.
I look somehow both feminine and badass at once. It’s a persona I always envied in other girls—I never thought I’d be able to pull it off myself. Now I really do look like a mountain biking Barbie with my long blonde hair and hot pink kit.
Reid smiles at me, and my stomach flutters. “Did you eat?”
“I tried.”
“Deep breaths, Adelaide. You’ve got this.”
My incessant pacing continues, and I complete laps around our campsite. Reid follows a few steps behind me. “Want a quick massage?”
I turn on my heels. “Absolutely not. No more touching. No more flirting. Don’t even look at me before I make it to the bottom of that damn trail.”
He throws up both hands and steps back slowly, but I don’t miss his mischievous little smirk.
Reid drives us over to the trail, and I fight the whole way to stay put in my seat. This is it. Once I’m up there, it’s do or die. The reality of that statement feels a little more suffocating every day.
Blair prepares to go first,looking confident as ever.
I find it within me to encourage her. “You’ve got this, Blair.”
The brunette looks as if I’ve struck her, but she sees the sincerity in my eyes and replies, “You’ve got this too, Blondie.”
She rode here last year—among the first women to ever ride Rampage. Blair offers me an assured smile before she pulls her helmet down. I can see it in her eyes before she drops in. She’s going to win this.
I don’t care if I win. All that matters to me is beating my own demons. Ride for myself, for Chloe, for every little girl who was told she couldn’t do it.
Reid is waiting for me at the bottom. I forced him to—he wanted to be up here with me, but I couldn’t handle that. Damien and Josie are down there too. I disappear into my own head and replay the feeling of being upside down with the wind in my hair over and over again.
The crowd is booming, and I can hear it clearly even from all the way up here. It floats through the air. It stills briefly, building again as the announcers call me out. “Baddie Addie is riding with a new kit today.”
“She’s stepping out in an all pink outfit! Last rider of the day making it a showstopper.”
“What’s that say on it? Blondie?”
“Yeah Blondie, I love how she’s owning this. Finally showing us who she is.”
“She looks confident up there. Can’t wait to see what she has in store for us today.”
Robbie isn’t here. He must be down below somewhere. I miss him, strangely—he’s become a sort of anchor for me.
The guy that is here looks at me like he knows me though. He taps me on the back. “Hey Addie, I’m Robbie’s husband. Robbie really wanted to be up here, but they need him down there today. He asked me to wish you luck and let you know he’s rooting for you.” He pauses to secure the go pro camera on top of my helmet. “Hey, don’t forget this records audio too.”
We both laugh a little. I honestly needed the reminder. Usually, I whisper swear words to myself while I ride. I’m gonna have to reign that in. He pats my helmet once he finishes and smiles at me broadly. “You’ve got this.”
It’s news to me that Robbie has a husband. I’ve always been too lost in my own head when around him to even think to ask. It’s comforting though, knowing Robbie actually cares. I guess our strange little bond isn’t so one-sided after all.
The replay of me hitting the flip runs one more time and as it finishes, I’m ready. The countdown starts, and I make sure my goggles are snug in place. There’s a sliver of skin exposed on my forearm, and I feel a tiny speck of water hit. I don’t even chance a glance at the sky. If I see a single storm cloud, I’m going to panic. I try to convince myself the droplet was just in my head.
The image of Chloe laying in her hospital bed forces its way through my mind, but I shove it out before it can seep into me.
I shake my arms out, preparing them for the intense impact they’re about to go through. Pulling my legs up, my tires start gliding down the first decline. I’m picking up speed fast, too fast. I force my bike to obey, and it slows a fraction, enough to get through the first shoot. It’s a big drop, but my technique is perfection. My bike control needs to be flawless as I approachthis next feature. I almost have to stop my bike completely, and the sand is too loose for comfort.
