I blinked again.
Enough. You had your moment. Now put the walls back up.
I took a deep breath to rein my thoughts back in. For now, in this brief interlude of quiet before he reemerged, I allowed myself the luxury of just beingAurélie—one who had dared to taste the forbidden fruit and found it both bitter and sweet.
I adjusted my top again, like it would be any different than two minutes ago. I still looked wrecked. My bra peeked out, my hair was a mess, my face heat-streaked, and my whole body felt like it had been claimed—marked in ways no mirror could fix. I was soft and scraped raw, and that made me dangerous to myself.
My pulse thudded as I stared at the door.
Any second now, he’d walk out, and I’d have to face whatever version ofCallumFraser I was about to get—smooth and distant, or worse, indifferent.
I prepped for the inevitable. Told myself it was fine. I’d hold my head high and pretend I hadn’t unraveled completely under his touch, that it hadn’t meant more than it should have. I’d leave with my pride.
Just another night for the both of us.
Yeah. I knew how to do this part.
The mask. The confidence. The detachment. And if I was lucky, he’d be cold enough to make it easier.
“Never twice,” I muttered, like a fucking mantra. “Let alone thrice.”
Everyone knewCallumFraser didn’t do repeats. I’d made it to round two by sheer accident or drunken momentum or some twisted mercy of the universe. But that was it. That was all I got. The rumor had been consistent for years. One night, one time, one girl at a time. No strings. No repeats. No mess. I wasn’t supposed to be the exception.
My heart was pounding again.
Not from sex.
From fear that maybe I did want to be the exception and knowing I never would be.
As soon as the bathroom door opened, I turned to face him—calm and composed. He looked clean, quiet, and unreadable. Not smiling. Not frowning. Just… observing. Surely this was the part where he’d offer some smooth exit line. Something charming and distant to let me off the hook with grace.
Honestly?
I probably deserved it.
I lockedthe bathroom door and leaned back against it, a shaky exhale slipping past my lips.
My heart thundered loud and relentless like I’d just crossed the finish line first.
The tile under my feet was freezing, jarring against the heat she’d left on my skin. A heat born from her touch, her kiss, her breath.
I pulled on my boxers and turned to the sink to splash cold water onto my face, the droplets stinging like sweat hitting hot asphalt on a summer track. I gripped the edges of the porcelain basin, knuckles whitening, as I fought to steady myself. But the memories flooded in with relentless clarity: her body arching beneath mine, the way her nails raked fire across my back and left red marks behind, the taste of her skin, her breathy gasps mingling with my name like a victory chant, how her body had responded to every touch.
This wasn’t supposed to happen—not like this.
She was supposed to be just another thrill. A spark to quench the tension that had been building between us for months. Hell, since we first spoke in Bahrain.
But she wasn’t just a spark.AurélieDuboishad struck a goddamned match and burned through everyounce of control I thought I had. That control that had finally snapped and I couldn’t help but fall headlong into the chaos she created in her wake.
Years.
The word echoed in my head like an engine at full throttle, drowning out every other thought. She had been watching me, wanting me, for years.
Before Bahrain. Before we ever spoke. Before I even knew her name.
Fuck.
My grip tightened on the sink. Water dripped from my jaw, but my brain was already hurtling backward—rewinding like a high-speed relay… searching for something I hadn’t known to look for.
