Gambling It All

Chapter Twenty One

"Ow, fuck!" Nicky exclaimed sharply, getting up from the Nautilus machine in the hotel's weight room, his leg on fire.

Cade slowed to a stop on the exercise bike he was riding nearby and looked at his rider with growing concern. "Dude, you've been pressing a zillion pounds over there for like six hours. What gives?"

"Just..." Nicky winced as he walked around the small room, the limp redeveloping in his hurt leg. "Trying to stay in shape. Get strong, you know? We're in the title hunt... I don't want my strength to be an issue during the final races."

"You've been working out like a fiend every since we left Wyoming," Cade observed. "Too much, maybe."

"I'm doing what Dix—" Nicky bit off the name even before he thought it. "I'm doing what a trainer would have me do."

"Dixie would never let you work out that hard, and she would never let you hurt yourself. Take it easy," Cade said, sliding off the small bicycle seat and walking over to his friend and rider. "You're limping again, which is not a good sign," he said, looking critically at Nicky's repaired ankle which appeared to be swollen more than the other one.

"I'm fine. I just need to shake it off," Nicky growled in frustration as Cade watched him closely.

"You need to shake off whatever bullshit went down between you and Dixie, and don't argue with me," he said, putting a hand up as Nicky opened his mouth to protest. "I'm sure you both know it was bullshit, and you both are too stubborn to say so."

"Don't match make me, Craigston," Nicky huffed, beginning to circle the room again.

"I'm not, but I will handle you when it comes to your health, even if that means bringing her back. And that's not a threat, friend, just a comment."

"Don't. Don't call her back here."

"I will, and that's no bullshit," Cade shot back, his voice brooking no argument. "I won't let you risk yourself. Get your head in the game, dude, you've got a race to win. It always goes better if you stay on the bike – physically and mentally – the whole time."

"Well thanks a bunch, Sensei Cade," Nicky said with a glare at his crew chief. "Stop handling me."

"Stop giving me a reason to," Cade replied. "Because I swear to God, I will."

**

The worst of it was, Nicky knew that Cade was right.

He'd been pushing way too hard in the training department for the last couple of weeks – since last seeing Dixie in Wyoming during her birthday party celebration – and he could feel his injured leg getting weaker and worse, instead of stronger.

He knew he was going against what Dixie would advise, and yet, he didn't seem able to stop himself from pushing, pushing, pushing all the time.

It gave him something else to think about, to focus on, instead of on her.

He just kept pushing, as though to prove to someone – to her? – that he was fine on his own. He could do anything on his own, and do it just fine.

But the throbbing pain in his ankle told him maybe his cockiness wasn't altogether for the right reason.

And he also knew that if Cade – or Dixie, for that matter – knew how much his ankle and leg were hurting... hell, that might even take him off his ride for a race or two, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let that happen.

Fine, he admitted silently to himself, so maybe he needed help, a little guidance from a professional.

Did it have to be Dixie Colson?