Back in the pits, Ray and Keith berated me for falling off, while Other James busied himself fussing with my number-two bike, making sure it was ready to go. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It just meant we had to start from scratch regarding suspension settings and gearing, all of which gave me a few minutes to look forward to Summer joining me later. Damn, I couldn’t stop picturing her here with me. I couldn’t stop feeling aroused and imagining us together. Most of all, I was screwing up this race because I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I needed to get a grip.
She hadn’t told me which day she was flying in, and she wouldn’t let me pay for her flight. She insisted on making her own arrangements. I couldn’t wait for her to join me, though. It had been two weeks, and I still felt as excited to see her as when we first met, grinning like an idiot every time I thought about it. I had a chance to discover all those new things about her. Her past, her future plans, her favorite places to go, exactly where she liked to be touched…
Keith kicked my foot, breaking me out of my reverie.
“You do know I’m your boss, right?” I asked him.
“Yeah, whatever. Just get on your fucking bike.”
*****
It was Friday night, and she still hadn’t arrived. We went for dinner as a team, but the guys noticed I was withdrawn and quieter than usual. A couple of times, Keith and Ray mocked me as a lovesick puppy, ‘taking the piss,’ they called it. It’s a strange English custom that seemed to involve many unfeeling and heartless remarks at my expense, all designed to make me feel like they actually cared. It did work a little, but I was still disappointed. I was starting to feel lost without her, panicking that she may not be coming after all.
Rays of sunshine beamed down onto the outdoor pools of Los Pinos spa to indicate the dawn of Saturday, and despite a couple of tender heads among my race team, we had morning practice, followed by a timed session in the afternoon to determine grid position. The early morning sun was soon replaced by clouds, and a light rain fell for most of the morning, which meant few of us went out. Racing in the rain is no fun, at least as far as I was concerned. And, with it forecast to be dry in the afternoon and on Sunday, there was not much point wasting the tires or fuel. Plus, as Ray pointed out, we didn’t have any more bikes if I wrecked another one.
I sat in the little kitchenette in our truck, trying to watch TV. I studied footage from last year’s race, trying to see where the fast boys found extra drive or went into turns deeper. Only it wasn’t working. It started as idle thoughts, feelings, and sensations I had experienced with Summer that first night together. But my mind turned to less pleasant wanderings. I really knew very little about her. I quickly dismissed thoughts that she might be some sort of femme fatale serial killer or sadistic psycho as ridiculous, but I then started thinking about her reluctance to let anyone in and these strange rules she had. Was I actually condemning myself to a relationship with a self-serving, selfish bitch I was going to have to jump through hoops for, just to have a quiet life?
I shook my head, trying to rattle loose all the dark thoughts so they would drop away. I told myself I was just being crazy. Yet the reason I’d been so happy for so long was by staying away from relationships. Was I about to fuck all that up? And had I been happy all this time? I thought so, but I’d never felt as good as when I was with Summer. My head started to spin and I began to feel sick. It was a relief when Nick came in to tell me Keith needed me outside.
The sun broke through the clouds at lunchtime and began to bake the damp track dry. I sat under our little awning at our plastic tables, working through a plate of home-cooked pasta, courtesy of Nick and our race truck’s little stove, when it hit me. Through the smell of grease, rubber, gasoline and smoke, I sniffed the delicate aroma of freshly made cotton candy, sweet and promising.
“Hi, James.” Her soft, slightly anxious voice was behind me.
This was not how I pictured this moment. I spun around. Summer stood there, her hair as full and gorgeous as I remembered, her makeup light and perfect, dressed in dark tank top, short denim skirt, and brown cowboy boots. She looked stunning and effortlessly sexy, as she had the countless times I’d fantasized about her being here.
I wore scuffed race leathers with sweat baked into the lining, undone to the waist to display an old Mot?rhead T-shirt. My hair was a mess, I had a mouth full of pasta, and there were probably black smears of grease on my face, none of which had been in my imaginings. I chewed and swallowed as fast as I could.