Page 101 of Revved up & Ready

At the last second, it pops out, lower than usual because Sadie’s the one holding it. All the numbers I usually see—distance to the racer in front of me, the racer behind me, lap number—are covered. Instead, thick letters written in marker on a piece of paper that’s rapidly deteriorating in the rain read:

Like You Stole It!

My whole body shakes with a laugh.She knew—even if it wasn’t my intention—I was holding back for her. And now she’s told meto knock that shit off.

Take what’s yours.

Ride it like you stole it.

I give drafting on the straightaways behind Ludlow one more chance, but it’s still not enough. So, on theSturns, I go wide into the first curve, then dive underneath in the middle. Myback tire hydroplanes slightly on my way out of theS, but I’m able to use it to my advantage and end up inside of Ludlow as we’re exiting the turn.

Now I’m in first. I did it.I passed Ludlow for hopefully the last time this season. I have two and a half laps to go, and I have to hold on to it and hope someone back there, likely Hart, can get in front of him too so I can take the championship.

The rest of the race is like a meditative dance, leaning my bike in and out of each turn with equal parts care and aggression. When I pass the pits, Sadie is cheering for me each time, and I check Ludlow’s board too. He’s still behind me going into the last lap, but I don’t let disappointment settle in. It’s out of my hands, so I keep racing like I stole it—just like my girl said to.

The checkered flag waves, and as I slow, I look over my shoulder.

It’s Hart. She must have passed Ludlow on the last lap. Hart took second.

I won.

I took the SuperbikeUSMotochampionship.

I won!

Slowing my bike significantly for the cool-down lap, I lift my helmet’s visor and hop up on my gas tank, swinging my legs front and back.

Hart reaches me first, yelling, “You fucking did it!” as she reaches her fist out and taps my knuckles with hers.

“Youdid it!” I call back.

Ludlow’s next, riding up on my other side. “Hell, yeah, dickhead!” he yells. “You earned that shit!”

Racers congratulate me for the rest of the lap, giving me hugs, knucks, and shouts.

When I make it back around to my pit, Sadie’s the first face I see. I stop my bike and run to her, picking her up andswinging her around before scooping my hands under her ass and wrapping her legs around my waist.

Her hands grip either side of my head, and she pulls me down for a rain-soaked, smiling kiss.

“Like you stole it, huh?” I ask.

“You were hesitating,” she pushes on my shoulder with a playful scolding. “Don’t do that.”

The rest of the day is a blur with podiums, interviews, champagne bottles, racers, and friends. It’s a high I don’t want to come down from.

Hours later, Hart approaches me with a woman I’ve never seen before and introduces us.

“I’m here representingCheckers Media,” she says, shaking my hand. “We want to talk to you both about the new team we’re starting next year.”

Chapter 24

Sadie

Get kicked out of a bar –from Sadie’s list of things she’s never done

“Hey!” Allie stands on a stool behind the bar, addressing the entire Friday night crowd atVoyeur Café. “We’re looking for aUSMotoSuperbike champion. Does anyone here happen to be one?”

“Ooh! Right here!” I yell, grabbing Cam by the elbow and lifting his arm high into the air. It’s been almost a month, and Allie’s done this every single time we’ve come here. Cam doesn’t even pretend it bothers him. He eats it up.

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