“He’s second. That’s good, right?” Alba shouted over the swirl of voices in half a dozen languages and the rowdy laughter of a group behind us.
“Very,” I said. “His teammate’s first.”
Roy wasn’t Ethan. He was the reigning champion, the rider with the most wins in three years. Asher wouldn’t have it easy, but he could win. I wanted him to.
The lights glowed red. Twenty-two engines roared, the air thick with the tang of fuel as they launched forward, tires brushing inches apart.
They tore into the first turn neck to neck. I fixed on Asher, willing myself to keep him in sight, but soon the bikes blurred into streaks of color.
Still, I felt him. This was the closest we’d been in almost two years.
My breath caught as they closed on turn five, infamous for crashes. The image of Asher broken in a hospital bed slammed into me. I squeezed my eyes shut and clutched Alba’s forearm.
“Look at the Jumbotron,” she urged. “He’s second.”
Red leathers. Number 80. He was flying into the next turn, so close his front tire nearly kissed Roy’s rear wheel.
“Come on, Ash,” I whispered.
The crowd thundered for Roy, still leading.
But Asher was there—relentless, hungry for it. I could feel it.
By the final lap, I’d lost count of how many times I’d gasped or dug my nails into Alba’s arm.
The bikes screamed closer, the roar of engines rising above the crowd. I spotted Asher, right on Roy’s tail. For a heartbeat, he was beside him.
Roy crossed first.
Asher took second. But this second place meant everything. He’d been seconds from toppling the world champion.
The stands exploded. Flags waved. Mechanics scaled the pit wall. Roy pumped his fist to the sky.
And Asher…
He pressed two fingers to his heart, then his helmeted mouth, kissing them before pointing upward.
The kiss used to be for me. The rest, for his dad.
My chest squeezed tight. He still did it.
Why did he still do it? We weren’t together anymore. There could be someone else in his life.
A new team. A new love.
He pulled off his helmet, ran a hand through his hair, and smiled timidly, glancing around like he couldn’t quite believe where he was or what he’d just achieved. Roy grinned and hauled him into a quick hug, saying something that made Asher smile wider.
He was happy. Thriving. My chest swelled with pride, but sadness pressed in too, threatening to drown the joy of knowing the guy I loved was living his dream.
Maybe it was because I wanted to be there with him, the way we’d once planned.
And even after all this time, I still hadn’t managed to accept that none of those dreams would ever come true.
***
“Thanks for going to the race with me,” I told Alba later in the hotel room.
“Thanks for inviting me. I had fun. Do you mind if I go take a shower?”
