"Normally, that activity we just did together would put someone in a nice, restful, happy mood," Dixie said, pushing her sweaty hair from her eyes as she rolled up on one elbow to look at Nicky, laying in bed beside her, catching his own breath. "But I swear to God I can feel the tension radiating off of you despite that."

Nicky sighed. "I know, I'm sorry... it's not you..."

"It's me?" Dixie ventured, making Nicky smile.

"But it's me," Nicky confirmed. "Race days I'm usually in my bed, calm, focused, but here..." he paused, considering. "This place psyches me out."

"Your coach, or Laguna?"

"Laguna. Well, both American races, really," Nicky replied.

"Because it's home?" Dixie asked, laying a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under her palm.

He nodded, his eyes on the ceiling. "And now with De Costa riding today..."

"Thanks entirely to you," Dixie interrupted.

"Thanks to me, and a fairly skilled team of doctors and nurses," Nicky agreed, "the pressure is on just as much – hell, more – than before. Only a couple more races and this championship will be decided. After my finish last year, and this year with it being my first year on Honda... god, Dix, I want to win so damn bad."

"So get out of your own way," Dixie advised. "Get your head on straight and it will come to you. I've seen you ride like that – like you're outside yourself, like nothing can touch you. That's what you need today."

"And a fast start. And good tires. And a twelve bike pile up right behind me," Nicky grumbled and Dixie laughed.

"You don't want to win like that. If you did, you would have let Javier ride injured and pose little to no threat."

"Yeah, but then my girlfriend would either be mad at me for letting that happen, or ditching me to go do physical therapy on her ex lover."

"Yeah. That's got to suck for you," Dixie said with a wry grin.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Nicky said wryly.

"Listen to me," Dixie said, her voice serious now. "Are you listening?"

"I always listen to you, sweetheart," Nicky said, and Dixie barked out a laugh.

"Okay, let's pretend for a second like that's true. Listen... you just need to go out there today and remember why you love racing bikes. Forget the points race," Dixie said, and Nicky snorted, but motioned for her to continue. "Forget the points race, and just go out there and race for you. Race for yourself, and race for me. Pretend you're just on a back road in Germany, not racing in front of your entire country with the championship about to be decided. Just don't. Just race because you love it. Race as though it could all be taken away tomorrow."

Nicky looked at her, twining his fingers in hers and giving them a squeeze. "Does it still... hurt?"

Dixie shrugged. "I got over the hurt and disappointment at not racing a long time ago, and I'm happy in my life now. But that's doesn't mean I don't still ache for it. Long for it. You have it – so go get it."

"But the pressure..."

"Fuck the pressure," Dixie said, her tone stern now. "You've ridden under worse pressure than this. Just go out and do it. Show 'em how it's done, because I know you can. You are absolutely the strongest and fittest I've ever seen you – even with your injury from last year. You are stronger, leaner, fitter and more agile than last year, thanks in no small part to the ass kicking given to you by your personal trainer. So go show those riders how we do it in the States."

"You think?"

"I know," Dixie said firmly. "You've got all the goods, so just go out there and prove it. Prove how good you are, how worthy you are to win this whole enchilada when it comes down to the wire. I believe it – you should too. I'm never wrong, you know."

Nicky grinned, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her mouth. "I'm just crazy about you. Did you know that?"

"I forget," Dixie said, trying to look dumb, even as her hand snaked beneath the sheets with a playful grin. "Remind me?"

**

"Would you please stop pacing?" Cade barked, his eyes still on the monitor above the garage area. "You're making me nervous. Jesus."

Dixie stuttered her step, pausing slightly before pacing again, biting on her fingernail. She had to keep moving or she was going to go absolutely insane.

MotoGP races may only last an hour, on average, but boy, did they pack a lot of drama and excitement into that hour.

The race start had been clean, but within two laps, three distinct packs had formed, with Nicky in the front pack, jockeying for position with the best in the sport – Lorenzo, Rossi, Dovisioso, De Costa.

He was hanging right there with them, but God, they were all running so close together, it was giving her a heart attack on every lap.

She only prayed Nicky wasn't flashing back to the final race of last year, when the same pack of riders was running together until Javier bumped him coming out of the turn and flattened his season – and his ankle.

She watched the large screen television in the garage, then spun to watch the bikes go screaming down the front straightaway, past the garage area where she was standing along with the rest of the mechanical crew for the 76 team. Cade was gripping his clipboard so hard, his knuckles were white, though he tried to put on a casual face to anyone who might glance his way – like the zillions of press people watching their every move.

But she knew, he was as nervous as she was.

They all wanted this win so badly - they needed it so badly to help cinch up the championship race for the year.

And God, how great would it be to win the race in front of the hometown crowd, as it were?

DIxie inhaled sharply as Nicky executed a pass – on the outside, no less – on Dovi and moved up a position, his Honda rocketing around the corners of the track, the tires at times only contacting the asphalt with an inch of available rubber.

This was insanity, Dixie thought for the thousandth time, though she was in a way envious – this is so exactly what she had wanted to do with her life a few years ago. Race the best, be the best, and harness the speed and danger at every turn.

Now, though, she realized, she was content in the garage area, cheering on her man.

If a more than a little stressed out.

Dixie looked at the rider positions as they flashed on the screen, and noted that Javier was still hanging in the front group, despite the pain that must be radiating through his shoulder every time he hit a bump or had to tug the bike back to center from a turn. She had to admire his tenacity and ability to keep up front despite the obstacles in his way.

And she was glad that Javier and Nicky, while not exactly friends, weren't mortal enemies or anything anymore. She didn't feel pulled in two directions at once, and both men were treating her with respect now.

She hadn't liked the idea of being in the middle of them, and so she sincerely hoped that she and Javier would remain friends in some way in the future.

He really was a hell of an interesting guy.

But he wasn't the guy for her, she mused, her eyes locked on Nicky as he leaned low over the handlebars of the bike, urging the motorcycle for more speed. That role belonged to a shy cowboy who at this point was earning his nickname - the Wyoming Whirlwind.

Nicky managed to pass Rossi, then, a mere lap later, he screamed past Lorenzo in one of the turns, taking the lead of the race.

Dixie thought her heart might explode and her throat might close off all together, she was so excited, literally jumping up and down in the garage.

There were only three laps to go, and Nicky was pulling away slightly.

Two laps.

One lap.

Dixie grabbed onto the back of Cade's shirt, bunching it in her fists and screaming, "is he really going to do this?!"

Cade grinned, his eyes still on the television. "Go, boy, go. Go, go, GO! Do this, finish this!"

Dixie was jumping up and down, her hands still tugging on Cade's shirt as Nicky hurtled across the finish line, taking the first place flag and waving to the crowd as he slowed his bike. Dixie noted that Javier finished a very respectable fourth, but was quick to dismount from the bike and head into the medical area. She knew he would be okay, though, with some heat and medicine for pain and a lot of rest after that serious workout.

Meanwhile, Nicky flicked up his visor and waved and smiled, appreciating the screams and clapping of the spectators from his home turf as he took a slow, winding lap around the track, completely on his own, reveling in the win.

He finally roared into the pits and stopped the bike, and Dixie could see him grinning from ear to ear.

"You did it!" Cade screamed, clapping his rider on the back. "Way to go!"

"I rode like you said," Nicky said, climbing off the bike and sweeping Dixie into a tight hug. "I rode for you and me. I rode for fun, and God damn, that was FUN!"

Dixie grinned and laughed, hugging him closer and kissing him fully on the lips, suddenly unaware of all the media, the fans, and the crush of people around him.

He returned her kiss ardently, but within seconds, he was being towed towards the podium by MotoGP officials to begin the award ceremony, and Dixie turned, a wide grin on her face, to see Javier dismounting from his bike. He caught her gaze, and gave her a smile, a thumb's up, and a mouthed 'thank you'.

'You're welcome,' she mouthed back with a smile.

Dixie thought her heart would overflow with pride, even as the champagne began flowing and the national theme played as she ran towards the podium in time to see Nicky ascend to the top spot, smiling and laughing and happier than she'd ever seen.

He saw her in the crowd at the base of the podium and grinned. He put his hand over his heart and patted it a couple of times, looking right at her, and she mimicked the gesture, knowing exactly it meant.

My heart is full, and it's because of you.

I love you.