Page 30

Chapter 30

APRIL

T he wind on the Galveston course was absolute bullshit. Every pedal cycle felt like an uphill battle. But I just kept pumping my legs, moving forward.

I thought of my mom. She’d always been such a fighter. When diagnosed with cancer, she’d stood tall and faced it head-on. I tried to channel her strength, her resilience.

And at the last half of the race, when my spirit was just as tired as my body, I pictured Gabe in a patch of clovers, looking for one with four leaves. It gave me this burst of energy, this lighthearted floating feeling like my tires would take off the ground—a total E.T. and Elliott moment.

I stopped worrying about my curse. I didn’t need the universe on my side—Gabe was enough. When I saw the arch, tears blurred my vision. I wiped them with the back of my hand. This was it. I was going to break my Ironman curse.

I dismounted, running for our spot. Gabe, who’d been leaning against the gate talking to Beck, straightened. Then he started jumping and yelling, and my hand had no hope of keeping up with the steady roll of tears. I tried to focus. We were in the middle of a race. I could have my emotional moment after I’d passed off the tracker.

I racked my bike and went to undo the tracker, but Gabe was already on it, bending down to transfer it to his leg.

He straightened, looking race-ready with his bib and running belt. I backed up to let him speed away, but he surprised me by pulling me close. His lips collided with mine, and I dissolved into him. The moment felt like a fireworks show. All bursts of color and light—feelings loud and celebratory.

Gabe pulled away but grabbed my face so I’d look at him when he said, “I’m so proud of you, April.”

My insides switched to zero gravity at that point. All my organs floated on Gabe’s words.

Proud? Of me?

It wasn’t until he was out of transition that I realized my fingers were still on my lips. I lowered them, turning to talk to Beck about the race, but my attention caught on a pair of eyes watching me. Clay’s brows furrowed, and all those organs that had been floating around came crashing down.

He’d seen Gabe kiss me.

Clay clipped his race belt, holding my gaze until he finally turned and took off after Gabe. The thought of Gabe getting in trouble and losing out on A-Team was too much to stomach. My legs felt wobbly as I walked over to Beck, but that could have also been the fifty-six-mile ride.

“You okay?” Beck asked.

“Yeah,” I said because there was too much to unpack with Beck, even if he was Gabe’s buddy. “Let’s go get a good spot to watch Gabe finish.”

The gates along the red carpet were congested—naturally. And I didn’t think we’d find room, but then a family of four packed up just as we arrived, leaving a gap large enough for us to camp out comfortably. I leaned against the railing, ready to people watch for the next hour and a half, when I noticed Trevor. He stood under a tree with Johnson in one hand and his phone in another. The crease between his brows grew deeper and deeper.

“Can you watch my spot?” I asked Beck. Too worried about Trevor, I didn’t hear his response as I made my way over to my cousin. By the time I made it through the crowd, Trevor was off the phone, his face in his hand.

“Trevor?”

When his head popped out of his hand, his eyes were red-rimmed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Can you . . . ?” He handed Johnson to me, then lifted his glasses, pressing his fingers to his eyelids.

“That was Exposure .”

“And?” I was afraid to hear the answer. I’d pushed him to apply, but only because I couldn’t see rejection as a possibility.

“And I got the position,” he said, like he couldn’t believe the words.

“Trevor!” With Johnson still in my grasp, I wrangled my cousin in for a bear hug. “That’s amazing!”

I released him and Trevor nodded, still looking shocked. “I just—How do I leave everything I know? And what about the shop?”

“What about it?” There was no way in hell I was letting him back out of this opportunity. “Billie and I will handle things. You have worked so hard toward this. It’s time to cash in.”

Trevor nodded, but I could tell he was processing too much to really hear anything. I convinced him to watch the race with us, and I felt lighter than I had in a long time. Sure, I’d miss him, and we would have to find a replacement for the shop asap, but things were finally working out.

One hour and fifteen minutes later, Gabe came barreling down the red carpet. I wouldn’t be surprised if beneath his skin were gears, pistons, and jet fuel. That’s how powerful—how solid—he looked as he made it across the finish line.

Then he slowed, and I could see the toll the run had taken in how his chest shuddered for fresh breath, the way he leaned his hands on his knees and gulped air. He’d hit it hard, and I wasn’t sure why until Beck showed me his phone. “We just got second place for the relays.”

“No,” I said, grabbing the phone from him. “There’s no way.” Sure enough, Gabe’s time had pushed us over.

“I’ve never made podium before,” I said, laughing.

Beck smiled. “Gabe said as much.” We weaved through the crowd to make our way over to the end of the corral where he’d come out. “When he was tracking your bike, he realized we might have a shot if he pushed himself.”

I felt pressure behind my eyes.

He just likes to win, I told myself. He’s competitive. But it felt like more. It felt like he’d done it for me.

Luckily, with Gabe being a giant among men, we spotted him easily in the crowd.

“We did it!” Beck said. “Second place.”

Gabe wearily pumped his arms, seemingly too winded for vocal celebration.

“You okay?” I asked, putting a hand on his sweat- soaked back.

“Yeah.” But he was still breathing heavily. “I’m fine.”

“You didn’t have to hit it so hard.”

“You inspired me,” he said between breaths. The words illuminated me.

Trevor took our picture on the podium. The guys had me stand in the middle—on first place. Beaming on that number one, I realized we hadn’t just broken the curse. We’d decimated it.

Gabe wanted to go out and celebrate, but Beck left to bring Emily lunch since she’d had to hurry straight to work after watching him swim. Likewise, Trevor had to return to the shop to help Billie, leaving Gabe and me to meander Ironman Village on our own.

I pointed to the massage tent as we approached. “Should we go in?”

“I think I’m offended,” he said.

“What?” I laughed. “Why?”

“ I’m your massage therapist.”

“You’re a busy man.”

“What are you doing later?”

His deep voice, that spark in his eyes, made me hungrier than the free pizza they were giving athletes. Then logic seeped in. Gabe offering to give me a massage would be work for him, and he’d already pushed himself to the brink. “You’re tired after racing, too. The last thing you need is more work.”

“I’m fine, April. Look, why don’t we both go home, take a shower, maybe a nap. Then you come over to my apartment tonight. I’ll take care of you.”

I’ll take care of you. Were there any words as sweet and seductive as those? “That sounds really nice,” I said. “Are you sure? ”

“Of course, I’m sure.” His dimples were out. “I can’t think of anything more important than post-race care.” As that smile turned delightfully wicked, my heart skipped a beat.

I don’t know when trouble had become so appealing, but at that moment, doing all the wrong things with Gabriel sounded like the perfect way to celebrate a podium finish.