Page 107 of Don't Brake My Heart
I dropped my voice. ‘She’ll be your daughter-in-law one day,’ I said as casually as I could, ignoring the way Mum gaped in shock.
Untangling myself from my parents, I went straight back to Leesa, grasping both of her hands.
‘If everyone can just chill out, I need a moment with Kubicka.’
She eyed me warily.
‘Don’t worry. It’s good,’ I said, a grin stretching off my face that didn’t seem to reassure her. ‘Come with me.’
Leesa
‘If you’re trying to prank me, I’m not sure this is the time,’ I said with a laugh as Colin dragged me around the back of the team bus. There were no cameras around here, which had possibilities. I slid my fingers between his. ‘But if you brought me here to make out, that’s a great idea.’
‘Ahem.’
There might not have been any cameras, but we weren’t alone. I belatedly noticed Doug Ferguson, the chief mechanic, watching us expectantly, holding a gleaming aero bike by the saddle.
It had beautiful paintwork – graduating colours in orange and blue for the team, with white and pink added for a sunset effect. How I’d loved that look when Harper-Stacked had unveiled it for the women last year. I approached with a smile, stroking the top bar fondly. I could immediately tell this bike was my size.
I shot Colin a grateful look. ‘You got Doug to tell you my measurements.’
He shrugged and dipped his head to one side. ‘Not exactly. Look closer.’
Tracing my fingers along the bar, I brushed the remnant of an old sticker just behind the stem, in the place where our names were printed for transport. The rest of the bike was polished and glossy, but this sticker, peeled off on one end, had been left there. I thought of that Steve Buscemi sticker years ago, one of the many memories that I was beginning to treasure. But this old sticker wasn’t a photo. It was the few remaining letters of the name of the person who had piloted this bike.
It read, ‘—bicka.’
This wasn’t a prank. It was a gift. A bike, yes, but more than that.Mybike… I shoved my hand to my mouth as my vision swam with tears. He was giving me back this part of myself I’d thrown out when it hurt too much. But I was stronger now, with a future full of possibilities. I could get back on this bike and remember the losses – and the win.
Thewin. The Great Ocean Road Race last year.
My gaze snapped up to his. ‘This is—’ I couldn’t finish the sentence. My jaw wobbled and I clutched the handlebars a little desperately.
‘It is. Took a bit to find it, but you can thank Fergie and the team at headquarters for that.’
And Colin Gallagher, who’d been there that day, cheering me on, and I hadn’t realised.
I took the handlebars gingerly when Fergie urged me to. ‘My career was kind of lacklustre, you know,’ I murmured, not minding the truth of that statement just now. ‘Except for that day.’
His arms slipped around my waist and he rested his chin on my shoulder. Doug slipped away with an awkward smile.
Pressing a kiss to my temple, he spoke in my ear, his deep voice with this earnest tone growing familiar. ‘It’s not all about your results. When I watched you ride, there was so much life in you. Youglowon a bike – as well as looking fucking hot.’
I elbowed him gently.
‘Is this a fancy way to make sure I keep riding?’
‘I’d like to ride together, but you don’t have to. I can just come back to you. But something about a bike still calls to you, right? I just want you to be happy. I want you to see yourself the way I see you.’
‘Well, I… think you’re going to see me on this bike,’ I joked to stave off the tears that were threatening in earnest. He’d just earned the white jersey, come fourth overall in the Tour de France, but he was still using his spare time to prepare surprises for me and insisted on moving to the States for the winter so I didn’t have to choose between him and my career.
He could be impulsive and struggled with his feelings sometimes, but he’d earned my trust in so many ways and I’d never felt moremyselfwith anyone.
‘Uh, one more thing,’ he continued, his voice low. ‘Don’t laugh.’
I opened my mouth to promise not to, but thought better of it. ‘I’ll try.’
With a roll of his eyes, he fetched a folded and sagging piece of cardboard from behind the bike, looking more uncertain than I’d ever witnessed. ‘I thought you should see this.’
