Leesa
For all my attempts to visualise this moment over the years, it didn’t feel anything like what I’d expected when I let go of the handlebars and lifted both fists above my head in victory – my first World Tour victory. MyonlyWorld Tour victory, most likely.
Shaking, every muscle and organ screaming and overworked, I doubled over, dropping sweat and tears – and my sunglasses – onto the ground as the oxygen returning to my brain finally cleared my vision and I came aware of the other riders crossing the line after me. Someone barrelled into me, pulling me up by the shoulders and enfolding me in a hug. It was Bonnie, my teammate, and the one who’d pulled hard to make this possible for me.
‘You little ripper! You did it!’
Life seemed to wind up at speed as I gripped her jersey and blubbered, snorting hot tears. Doortje piled on and soon I was surrounded by all the girls, the ones I would gladly share my prize money with, and all of these feelings.
Needing a moment, I stumbled to the other side of the bus, leaning against the garish orange paint job and dropping my head back, my helmet limp in my hand. There was too much to process. I was the same person as the one who’d started the race, not really believing a win was possible, but putting myself through it anyway. I wasn’t sure if that fact was disappointing. I’d worked so hard only to find that one win wasn’t a miracle cure for my entire life. It wasn’t much more than a moment, over in a blink of an eye.
With thoughts like this, I definitely didn’t have the mindset of a winner.
‘I think these are yours, Kubicka.’
Snapping my eyes open, I didn’t need the visual to confirm who stood in front of me. The voice had been enough. Colin held out my sunglasses, his other hand stuffed in the pocket of his shorts. He would race tomorrow. I wasn’t sure why he was here watching the women. Maybe his dad forced him to, for the PR.
‘Thanks,’ I muttered, taking the glasses from him. He didn’t make any move to walk away, even when I glanced at him in confusion.
‘Can I get an autograph?’
Straightening, I eyed him. ‘You don’t even have anything for me to sign.’
Producing a permanent marker from his pocket, he spun it from hand to hand. ‘How about my butt?’
Throwing an arm into the air, I groaned. ‘Oh, grow up, Colin!’
As I stalked back to the others, I heard him say behind me, ‘Not my butt. My arm? Sign my arm. Or my shirt!’
Chapter 28
Leesa
My legs were wobbly, my breath couldn’t seem to fill my lungs, but I was grateful for the cold drip of my hair onto my shoulder to force a little perspective into my heated brain. One touch and I was on fire. Regardless of the poor timing, indulging this intense attraction was surely a bad idea anyway. I didn’t want to be so addicted to him. I was supposed to be sorting my life out.
‘I thought you said we should talk,’ I managed to say around my thick throat.
But I still couldn’t step away when he peered at me from under his lashes. I would see those blue eyes and that cocky smile in my dreams for the rest of my life. If he’d grabbed me, pressed me against the door and started things up again, I wouldn’t have stopped him.
Instead, he eased away as though it pained him, adjusting his tracksuit bottoms. At least one of us was able to take an effective breath. He collapsed onto my single bed, propping his elbows on his knees.
‘Sorry.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘It’s all getting to me.’ Right. This was about blowing off pressure and nothing more. Colin didn’t do ‘more’ and I had to remember that. His leg was bouncing – a move that reminded me more of Lori than her brother.
I sank down next to him, tucking my hands in my lap. ‘It wasn’t like this last year?’
‘Youweren’t here last year,’ he replied, shooting me a smile that didn’t reduce my dismay at his words. ‘But, nah, it was different. It was my first year as the lead rider. It was all “softly, softly”. Ninth was more than anyone expected of me, but this year… I’m all grown up,’ he drawled slowly.
‘You’re still very young for a lead rider, Colin,’ I reminded him.
I’d always thought it was an advantage of cycling, that unlike competitors in other sports, riders tended to get better as they got older, to a critical point some time in their early thirties. But maybe it would have been better for me to peak in my twenties like in other sports and then retire gracefully, rather than quitting right when I might have been getting good.
‘A young hothead. It’s all true, what the pundits say about me. I don’t know if I’m going to crash and burn or actually bring the results Dad needs.’ He glanced at me. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t need a pep talk from you. I’ve had enough of those from everyone else.’
‘Did the tattoo heal at least?’
He caught my gaze and held it. We weren’t touching, but it felt as though we were. ‘Yeah, no worries. It’s nice and smooth. How about yours? All okay?’Can I see it?The question danced in his eyes.
I nodded, a smile pulling at my lips. ‘I really like it.’
