“Gentlemen, are we ready?” Ned Norbertson comes to stand in front of us. Ned is the team’s VP of Marketing and Fan Engagement. He’s sometimes referred to as “Nerdy Ned” behind his back, but honestly, I love the guy. He’s smart, super creative, and able to keep a bunch of raucous, oversized football players in line and organized during our weekly Biker Brigade.
We all give varying degrees of affirmative responses, and Ned presses the button on the garage door. It springs open, revealing a long access road that’s lined with screaming fans. They’re behind barricades and snow piles that have mercifully been plowed out of the way, leaving the quarter mile road we’ll pedal down mostly clear.
“Honestly, this is a safety hazard. We really do this all season?” Del rubs his hands over his arms, as if that’ll help him ward off the morning chill. “It’s freaking winter. There’re ice patches up in here.”
“That’s part of the fun, Delly.” Poe rings his bike bell again and takes off to the cheers of the fans.
“I’ll show you fun,” Del grumbles, pushing off and wobbling on his two-wheeler before straightening it out.
I’m next in line, and I’m mentally applauding myself for handling this lavender sparkly bike like a champion when a familiar face blinds me from the crowd.
No.
I blink.
There’s no way.
But…way.
Rose Kasper. In the flesh. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. Her brown hair still holds its trademark wave. It’s cut to chin length. She’s three rows back in the line-up of fans, but like magnets, our gazes lock and hold.
I haven’t let myself think about Rose in years. She’s a memory I leave alone. Anytime a daydream has tried to wedge its way into my thoughts, I’ve shut it down faster than you can sayheartbreak. My success rate is fifty-fifty. Maybe sixty-forty, if I’m being completely transparent. What I’m saying is, I’m fighting a losing battle. Rose Kasper is a bruise to my heart that’ll always be tender. Here, in the mid-day sunlight, I’m one hundred percent under her trance, and I can’t look away…
That is, until I ram my purple, sparkly bike straight into the snow bank and topple off of it into a heap of cold, slushy, wet snow.
The crowd gasps, and my teammates immediately latch on to my faux pax with a chorus of ribbings.
“Man down. Man DOWN!” TJ pedals up from where he was in line behind me. He makes obnoxious siren sounds, as if he’s a medic coming to my rescue.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our star QB.” Poe rings that dang bell again, circling around and schmoozing the fans. “Much more coordinated on the field than off of it, thank goodness.”
Everyone laughs as I get to my feet. I sweep my gaze to where I saw Rose, but she’s gone. Did I imagine her?
I grab the teddy bear that went flying and make a theatrical bow as the little girl whose bike I was riding runs forward and picks up her wheels.
“Sorry about that,” I tell her.
“It’s okay, mister. But momma says I gots ta watch where I’m going. You should try that too.”
My teammates burst out laughing, and I look down solemnly at this seven-year-old bearer of wisdom with a missing front tooth. I hand back her bear. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good. Keep winning this season, mmkay?”
I chuckle. “We’ll do our best.”
We line up for pictures with the kids, and after signing some autographs and doling out high fives and fist bumps, Ned shepherds us back into the facility.
“Dude.” Del shoves my shoulder after we get inside. “We don’t need you getting hypothermia.”
“What even was that?” Poe asks. “One minute, you’re pedaling like a pro, and the next minute, bam! Snowbank. It’s like you saw a ghost.”
“I thought I did,” I mumble.
I think the guys are too anxious about getting out of there to pay much attention to my admission—all except Del.
He falls into step with me, and we get on the elevator together. “You okay?” he asks.
I give my head a slight shake. “Rose Kasper was out there.”
