Page 92 of The Unfinished Line

“No refunds. Enjoy the ride,” came the man’s monotone drawl as he shoved the ticket through the window with the credit card receipt.

An hour later, Dillon sat on a bench in the center of what felt like a revolving fishbowl as it slowly made its way toward the sky. Kam stood at the outer edge of the capsule, with her forehead pressed to the glass.

“The view is gorgeous! Won’t you come see?”

“I can see from here.” She swallowed down the discomfort of the lump that rose in her throat the higher the pod climbed.

Kam turned to look at her, and in her dawning realization, an amused smile touched the corner of her lips. “Dillon.” She crossed to the bench. “Why didn’t you say you were afraid of heights?”

“I’m not afraid,” she was at once defensive, “I just…”

“You’re practically green.” Kam laughed, tussling her hair, before flopping down beside her, and laughed again as Dillon flinched at the mild sway of the floating capsule. “I’d never have asked you to come on it if I’d known!”

“I know. It’s why I didn’t say anything.”

The smile Kam gave her made the slowly disappearing ground more bearable, even as Big Ben turned into little more than a mantel clock.

Four more days. That’s all they had left before Kam flew back to Los Angeles. And every hour seemed to fly by faster than the one before.

She knew Kam’s schedule was packed. She knew, even once Kam wrapped up filming next week in the studio, there would be endless obligations she had to uphold. But still, she couldn’t help but ask the question that had been gnawing at her. The one she’d been holding out hope for.

“If I race Leeds—” theiftasted stale on her tongue, but hung there, unpleasant all the same, “—would you come watch me?”

Kam’s smile slipped, her expression shifting to surprise.

“I thought you didn’t like anyone to watch you compete?”

“I…” She didn’t, usually. Sam. Seren. That was about it. And only because neither of them took no for an answer. But the pressure of racing, after Bermuda, after Yokohama… It had begun to feel insurmountable. She’d found it almost impossible to drag herself onto her bike trainer each night, after Kam had fallen asleep, or down to the private pool in her building, or off for a sunrise run. But, if Kam was there, somewhere on the other side of the finish line, she thought, maybe, she could find her fire again. “It’s different with you. I know it’s asking a lot—for you to fly back here so soon—”

“—of course I’ll come! I’d love to come!”

The bitter taste ofifbegan to fade.

“Yeah?” Dillon smiled.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll win it for you, if you come.”

This time, Kam didn’t return her smile.

“I don’t need you to win it for me, Dillon. I just need you to not disappear on me again.”

It was no longer the dizzying height of the pod that made it feel stuffy. Dillon swallowed, her gaze drifting to the skyline.

“Dillon.” Kam took her hand, squeezing it, drawing her attention back to her. “There’s something I want to ask you, and I need you to answer honestly.”

She’d known this conversation was coming. She’d known Kam had been sitting on it, waiting for the opportunity. And she knew she owed it to her.

“Alright.”

“Should I have been worried? About you?”

She didn’t need her to clarify what she meant.

“No.” The answer was too simple, but still, it was the truth. “I just needed some time to clear my head.”

Kam digested this. “And have you ever… In the past, I mean…”

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