The extra kid no one wanted.
His expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Do I?” I snapped, the panic spilling over. “Because it doesn’t feel like bullshit when I’ve been clawing tooth and nail to prove I even belong. One race that I DNF’d for reasons that were not my fault, and they’re already looking at other drivers? It’s their fucking car that’s the problem!”
He reached for me, but I stepped back, the space between us suddenly feeling like a chasm. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone almost pleading.
I was spiraling, unraveling, and the worst part was how kind he still was. Like I was worth comforting, worth fixing, but I wasn’t good enough. I’d never been good enough. Not for my parents, not for racing, and certainly not for him.
“We agreed,” I said, voice barely holding. “Just one night. That was the deal.”
“Aurélie—”
“No,” I cut him off, slipping his white button-up shirt and over my shoulders. “You told me last night to not ruin the evening thinking about tomorrow. Well, it’s tomorrow.”
“That’s not what I meant?—”
“But it’s what you said,” I snapped, twisting my hair up into a bun to get it out of my face.
“Would you just let me talk for one goddamn minute?”
My mouth shut just as I was about to continue.
“I don’t give a fuck about ‘tomorrow’ or ‘today’ right now. All I care about is you, standing here feeling like you’re not enough. You are more than enough. You’re fierce, determined, and one of the best damn drivers out there, man or woman. You’ve already lapped half the grid and they’re too fucking sexist to see it. That’s not on you. That’s on them.” His words were like a lifeline in the storm of my doubts.
I blinked back tears. “But the rumors, the articles…”
“Fuck what they say,” Callum interjected, stepping closer until there was barely any space separating us. “That’s all they are. Fucking rumors. You think I’ve gotten to where I am by caring about what others think? We race because we love it, because it’s who we are. Not for anyone else’s approval.”
His hands gently cupped my face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped.
Callum’s usually confident facade wavered, replaced by a raw vulnerability that I had never seen before. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, love,” he began, his voice low and urgent, “but you need to listen to me. You are more than just a rookie or a woman in this sport. You’re so fucking good, and they’re mad if they can’t see that.”
His words sunk into my fractured self-esteem like rays of light piercing through stormy clouds. The echo of doubt and insecurity still lingered, but for the first time in a long while, a flicker of hope ignited within me.
“I know it’s scary,” Callum continued, stepping closer with a gentleness that contradicted his usual brash demeanor. “But you’ve got to stop letting fear dictate your worth. You belong here. You’re stronger than this. Stronger than what anyone says about you or thinks of you.”
I hiccuped on a sob, trying to hold back the flood of emotions.
He sighed, clearly coming to a realization. “Can we see where this goes? Keep it low-key, just between us.”
I flinched, the memories of being a secret, a convenience, flashing through my mind.
You’re just a distraction. No one can know.
You’re too much—always wanting more.
Did you really think I’d take you seriously? That anyone would? That we could ever be public?
“I can’t be someone’s secret again,” I whispered. Not when it still felt like a bruise I hadn’t stopped pressing.
He froze. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”
“Drop it,” I said, my fight against tears finally failing as they spilled over. Crying in front of him was humiliating.Mon Dieu. “Please, Callum. Just drop it.”
He didn’t push, but the tension between us was palpable as I fastened the last button of his shirt and he released my face. He snorted softly. “Keep that. You look better in it anyway,” he saidquietly, attempting to lighten the mood. But I was too far gone, lost in the whirlwind of my own thoughts.
“This doesn’t mean I want this to be the end,” I admitted quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. “I just… I can’t risk anything getting out right now. Not when everything feels so uncertain.” I sniffed.
