Cooper stood and stepped out from around his pit area so he could, somewhat, see the track where the flags were presented. He didn’t have a good view, but he saw enough. He took off his hat and put it over his heart. He hadn’t done this before. Most in the pits didn’t. They were quiet, but maybe they felt the National Anthem was for the fans in the stadium. Coop had thought that before. But not now. This was for everyone, including Coop.
A woman sang the anthem. The stadium was dark, but Coop could see the fans had their phones on, creating little lights all across the stands. When she finished that last note, the cheers went up. Then the pre-recorded opening started. It would go on about the race, the strategy, the racers, the drama, etc. Coop had heard it over and over. It meant he would go out there to play up to the fans in only a few minutes. And Rick still wasn’t here. He went back to his pit and grabbed his phone, checking again for another text. Nothing.
Music started playing to hype up the crowd. Coop knew from seeing it before that laser lights flashed across the stadium, and pyrotechnics were flaring up. Then… “From Greensboro, North Carolina…”
It was starting. The man with the clipboard came up and pointed at him, but turned to Brett. “Five.”
Brett turned to Coop. “Let’s go.”
Kevin used his hip to get the bike off the stand.
“Fuck.” Where the hell was Rick? No message. No nothing. Coop tossed his phone on the table and grabbed the handlebars. He flung a leg over the seat and Kevin handed him his helmet.
Brett handed him a pair of goggles. “You can throw these in the crowd.”
Coop nodded. If he opened his mouth, he was liable to get in trouble. Because disappointment was falling into being pissed off.
The last of the 250cc racers had been called. The fireworks exploded. He was out of time.
“Coop! Cooper! Coop!”
Coop jerked his head up, looking around frantically. He knew that voice. Rick was there. His Rick was running toward him. He saw Drew’s head behind him, following, but he didn’t give a fuck about Drew. His eyes were for Rick alone. He opened his arms wide, holding his helmet with one hand and the goggles with the other. Rick slammed into him. “Yes.” He wrapped Rick up in his arms. “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”
“No way. I wasn’t missing this.” He pulled back a little and gave Rick a quick peck on the lips.
“Let’s go.” Brett’s job was to keep him in check. And he was being announced in the next three minutes.
“I have to go, but this isn’t going to take long. Find somewhere to watch. I’ll be right back.”
Rick’s head bobbed up and down furiously. “Okay. Okay. Go.”
Coop started the bike and revved it, heading down to the starting gates. Several racers were lined up, and he took his place beside them. His heart was bouncing around in his chest and his head was lighter. Coop felt a little high, not that he’d ever been high. That wasn’t ever his thing. It interfered with racing.
Eric Westrum pulled up beside Coop. He was as full of himself as ever. He was also only three points behind Coop, and if Coop didn’t stay ahead of him in the main event, he could lose his third-place spot. This was the final race of the season—the championship. Jack Benson was so far ahead in points that he would take first easily, but Coop was only twenty-two points behind second place, so if he finished well enough, he could pull off another spot. That meant more money. Either way, Westrum wasn’t going to take anything from Coop. “Ready to do this?”
Coop pulled his helmet over his head. He held his goggles in his hand, prepared to throw them out to the crowd. He pulled them up around his wrist. “Go fuck yourself, kid.” Coop wasn’t normally that aggressive, but he couldn’t stand Westrum and didn’t want him around.
“Dude. Save it for the track.” Westrum smirked. Eric was young. Too young. Seventeen. He hadn’t paid his dues. He didn’t belong here. He was entirely too cocky and dangerous on the track.
“Number two-seventy-two…Lucas Cooper!” the deep voice of the announcer signaled his entrance to the track, and his theme music boomed over the speakers. Coop took off on the bike. When he was halfway down the first straightaway, he hit the brakes and skid the back tire around into a donut. It was becoming his signature move. The crowd’s cheering could be heard over the purr of his engine. He straightened up the bike and cut across the track. He stood on his footpegs and waved. Then moved closer to the edge and tossed his goggles out. Hedidn’t wait to see everyone leaning toward them, arms out, to see who caught them. He kept going around, rolling to a stop on top of one of the jumps. In that moment, he was the star. Superstar. Unstoppable. And all he could think of was Rick. What would Rick think? Was he seeing this? Hearing the crowd? Did he know how important this was to Coop? How had everything become centered around that man? He didn’t know and part of him didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that it did.
Coop finally exited the track. He was only out there for a minute or two, but it felt like twenty or thirty. He headed back around to his pit while they called Eric Westrum out to do his thing. Coop was totally going to beat that brat.
Rick wasn’t in the pit when he got there, and Coop’s irritation was rising fast, but before he could think about it further, the man showed up.
“Coop,” Rick said Coop’s name like it was everything. And Coop only hoped he could live up to it.
Coop couldn’t help the smile now plastered across his face. He handed the bike over to Kevin so he could press his body against Rick’s. The hug before his show wasn’t enough. Rick helped him pull his helmet off, and he dropped it on the ground, too eager to get his hands on Rick. The world around him stopped as he wrapped his arms around Rick, pulling him tight. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He cleared his throat. “Seriously, sorry if we made you worry. Got caught up in a little traffic coming from the hotel, and I didn’t want to waste time texting.”
Drew stood a few feet away, and he crossed his arms over his chest while he scowled. Had he done something to slow them down? Coop narrowed his eyes, ready to attack. But Rick laughed and shoved Drew. “He navigated.”
“Don’t you have GPS?” Coop didn’t understand what he was saying.
Drew rolled his eyes but smiled like it was a joke. “We’re Army boys. We don’t need GPS to tell us where to go.”
Rick burst out laughing. “You’re so stupid, we used the GPS, he just kept looking ahead to see what was next.”
