‘Don’t let your dad hear you say that.’
He grinned, the first real, amused one I’d seen that day. ‘I’m the only one not allowed to have fun on a bike. Butyou.’ He tapped a finger on his chin. ‘You didn’t quitfun, did you? You look so hot up in the saddle. I’d hate to think that a stupid mistake of mine meant you never did it again.’
My mouth dropped open. His words weren’t exactly complimentary, especially delivered with that twinkle in his eye, but he’d spoken them slowly, dripping with meaning in his deep voice and my lungs wouldn’t work properly. He bit his lip and dipped his gaze.
‘I knew that colour would look amazing on you.’
The heat on my chest suggested my skin was turning a similar colour. I didn’t know what was going on here, felt more than a little out of control, but it was an unfortunate fact that Colin Gallagher was irresistible – with or without a moustache – when he smiled like that.
While I was thus distracted, he waved a little square GoPro in front of my face before attaching it to the holder on my helmet. ‘Because you don’t have enough footage of my butt.’ He fitted a similar camera onto his own helmet. ‘Grab the bike, Kubicka,’ he said softly. ‘Let’s go have some fun.’
With some trepidation, I retrieved the smaller bike from the railing, my hands falling to the saddle and the stem automatically. It was a beautiful piece of equipment, made of lightweight carbon fibre, designed to allow the air to stroke lovingly over the curves. Although this one had electronic shifters, the basic physics of the device was the same as for any child’s bicycle, any commuter’s city bike – or a pastel-coloured Dutch Tweewieler with a basket of flowers on the front: the force from my legs amplified and converted into motion in a hyper-efficient exchange.
It was also beautiful.
‘Are you worried about your broken arm?’
I shook my head. It was mostly true. It wasn’t the first time I’d broken a bone, although every other time I’d climbed right back on a bike before I could overthink my recovery.
‘Then what are you afraid of?’
‘I’m not afraid!’
He paused, the tip of his tongue moving inside his cheek in thought. ‘Are you lying to me or to yourself?’
‘You,’ I blurted out without thinking. I was well aware of my own fear. I’d given up my place in the team – in the sport – and I didn’t want to regret that decision. I’d trained obsessively for ten years of my life and ended up with nothing.
I didn’t belong anywhere near an elite rider preparing for the race of his life. Tony had been right about that. I should have tried harder to get him to stay away.
‘Okay,’ Colin said unexpectedly gently. ‘What are you going to do about it? Talk to me?’
With a vehement shake of my head, I gave the bike a push, ignoring the shock of memory from the clack of the wheel hub. Arriving at the road, I stared grimly ahead as I grasped the handlebars, sparks of adrenaline firing in flashback.
I should be moving forward into my new life and not back, and yet… Whether to shut Colin up or for another reason I didn’t want to admit yet, I had to do this. I swung my leg over the saddle, one foot extending onto my toes as I clicked the cleat on my other shoe into the pedal with muscle memory that was stronger than my muscles themselves.
Colin drew up next to me and mirrored my pose, peering at me curiously. ‘You okay?’
I shook my head, but stared resolutely ahead.
‘Lees,’ he said, his voice dropping low, ‘you don’t have to—’
‘Youforced my hand, Gallagher. You can’t let me off now.’
His hand landed on my back, a reassuring touch that only reminding me of Doortje’s friendly slaps, touchy-feely team time among the girls.
‘All right,’ he muttered. ‘Let’s go.’
Chapter 16
Leesa
This was a terrible idea. It had been nine months since I’d been at peak and I was taking off after one of the biggest stars of the men’s elite. My lungs were burning just on the flat, trying to keep up, and knowing this was only a recovery ride for him – and he was most definitely going slow for me – was enough to devastate my pride.
I’d felt strong on a bike at one point, playing with speed, manipulating gravity – or defying it. Today there were tears in my eyes and I only felt my weakness. The mountains were too big to even dream of conquering. I didn’t belong up here in the wild landscape that was too powerful to tame with roads and machinery.
It was only a small consolation that the bike still felt like an extension of my body, working to multiply the force of my legs moving the pedals and reacting to every minute adjustment I made to the handlebars – which was lucky, because cycling on alpine roads was not for the faint-hearted.
Our hotel was high up, near the pass, so we were soon heading downhill and I could catch my breath. The road wiggled through meadows in a thousand shades of green, swallowed occasionally by patches of pine forest. Swinging around the switchbacks and technical curves was a dance I hadn’t forgotten, using my weight and gravity to keep the bike stable.
