And then—him.
I stopped in my tracks, staring at that goddamn Vanguard GP promo poster on the wall with him sweaty and a few years younger. The cruel joke that he was on my wall, watching me in the rare moments I made it home.
The stupid poster wasn’t new—I’d had it for years, back when he was just another name on the grid, another world champion to admire. But now? Now it felt dangerous, especially since this was the second time I’d gotten hung up on it.
My pulse kicked up. My whole body felt restless. It wasn’t just the adrenaline leftover from the race. It was the way my mind wouldn’t shut up. The way his comment sat there, unanswered.
I bit my lip as I sank onto the bed after showering and brushing my teeth. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew.
But I clicked his profile anyway.
His last post was from yesterday. A podium picture, champagne dripping down his race suit, hair damp with sweat and victory. And the caption?No better way to start the season.
I should look away. But I didn’t.
Instead, I found myself in the comment section. I could say something flirty. Something harmless.
Or maybe… I could just send him a message.
I inhaled sharply, rolling onto my side and gripping my phone tighter. I was alone, in my childhood bed, jet-lagged, two glasses of wine deep, staring at a poster of him. My body was too warm, too tense, too needy.
I shouldn’t.
But I wanted to. I really, really wanted to.
Instead of a text, I snapped a quick picture of my wine glass against the backdrop of my window and sent it to my close friends’ story.
Within minutes, the notification popped up.
Seen by: cal_fraser19.96.
I stared at the screen,my heart pounding.
Then—
cal_fraser19.96 replied to your story.
I swallowed,heat licking up my spine. My finger hesitated over the message before opening it.
Callum
Can’t say I blame you for celebrating (a day late).
My breath caught. A slow, traitorous smirk curled my lips. I tapped out a response before I could think better of it.
Celebrating? I don’t think P4 calls for that.
The dots appeared immediately.
Callum
Maybe not. But you still look like you’re enjoying yourself.
My stomach dropped.
I reread his message three times before pressing my lips together, warmth curling deep in my belly. This was dangerous.
So, naturally, I doubled down.
