“How long have you been together?”
“Three years. We got married last year in Mauritius and it was incredible.” She shows me the shiny ring on her left hand.
“Is it hard? Being married to a world famous racer?” She shrugs.
“Probably no harder than being married to any other guy, except that there is more media attention.” I nod; I completely understand.
I focus my attention back on the riders. A man is standing beside Jake, holding a computer that seems to be connected to his bike. He’s probably checking if the bike is working flawlessly. Jake is still completely in the zone. His hands are crossed over his chest, and he’s staring in front of him. When the track is clear of people, racers do a warm-up lap, and ride back to the start-finish line. The bikes are roaring, and spectators are waving flags with the number of their favorite racer. The atmosphere is indescribable. The racers are prepared for the start, but my eyes are fixed on the number 25. I nervously shift from one leg to another as they get the permission to start. I see Jake taking over the lead in the very beginning. He enters the first corner smoothly, and then the second one. He’s still in the lead, but he’s being hotly pursued by his opponents. Barta approaches him from the inside, with Gonzales trying to overpass him. Jake is racing aggressively, setting the pace in the front. My heart is beating furiously inside my chest, and I’m biting my lip so hard I draw blood. Barta makes a mistake, which lands him in fifth place, right behind Mike. Gonzales is trying to overtake Jake, but he suddenly skids off the track.
“Oooh, what a nasty fall,” I hear the commentator exclaim. “That green patch of grass can be pretty dangerous. It has rained for the last two days, so it has gotten pretty wet.” Gonzales is still sliding down the track, right behind his motorcycle. Jake is still going fast, racing along the main straight toward the finish line. He pops a wheelie across the finish line and the spectators are on their feet, flags are waving, and I mostly see the number 25 on them. Jake’s team celebrates his win, hugging and cheering. I can’t wait to finally hug him too. Jake takes a victory lap, arms high in the air. When he rides through the finish line again, he drives into the pit-box and jumps off the motorbike. He’s immediately hoisted up on the shoulders of his team members. He removes his helmet, happiness radiating from his eyes. When they finally put him down, he puts his helmet on a chair. Debbie is already with her husband, and I’m standing a few feet away from Jake. He’s grinning from ear to ear and hugging his friends; others are patting him on his shoulders and back. He removes his gloves, and puts them in the helmet. As he raises his gaze back up, our eyes meet. A reporter is already asking him questions, holding a mike under his nose, but Jake ignores him. Pushing him aside, he runs to me with wide steps. We hug tightly, and he lifts me up by my butt. I wrap my legs around his waist and our lips collide. We are kissing passionately for a while, not caring about people taking pictures of us and filming us. As we finally break the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine.
“You’re here.” He’s panting and I nod, a satisfied grin on my face.
“I’m here,” I tell him.
“Did you watch the race?” I nod again.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You were awesome.” He slowly drops me to the ground, and only now we realize the cameras, and people watching us. I blush and bury my face in his chest, but he proudly points to me.
“My girl’s here.” The reporters are firing their questions at us, so Jake takes my elbow, and pulls me to the side. “Wait here, okay? As soon as I’m done, we are out of here.” I nod and kiss him gently. “Cody, watch after her,” he calls, and I see it’s the same man I already met on my birthday. Cody nods, and Jake is already surrounded with reporters. He climbs the steps to the winning podium, and proudly accepts the trophy. He kisses it, and lifts it high into the air.
After the award ceremony and the press conference, he finally joins Debbie, Mike, and me.
“Thanks, Cody,” Jake says, and wraps his hand around my waist. “Let’s go.”
Jake takes us to an Italian restaurant close to the circuit. We spend a relaxing and wonderful afternoon together. Debbie and Mike are a great couple. They reveal that they’re expecting a baby in seven months. Mike is beyond himself with happiness. He tells us nobody but us knows this, so we have to keep our mouth shut. He doesn’t want the press digging up the story too soon, and I completely understand. They look extremely happy as they are gazing at each other with lovey-dovey eyes throughout the whole dinner. Jake’s hand rests on my thigh the whole time, as if he were afraid I’m going to run away or something. Every once in a while, he slides his hand up and down. After the dinner, we say goodbye, because Debbie is tired from all the pregnancy issues that started not long ago. Jake and I take a long walk on the beach. Our fingers intertwined, we walk down the beach. A gentle breeze is playing with my hair.