Aurélie: “French Polynesia. I'd love to spend days on the water, away from everything.”
The crew murmured approvingly, clearly eating up the contrast in our answers.Callumshot me a look, something unreadable flickering across his face.
Coordinator: “What's the most annoying thing about each other?”
Callum: “She's too competitive. Won't let anyone have a moment of peace.”
Aurélie: “He's too smug. Can't let anyone forget how many championships he's won.”
The crew burst into laughter, but the undercurrent of tension remained, both of ushyperawareof the way our answers danced around the truth of our sexual chemisty.
“Okay, last one,” the coordinator said. “Describe each other in one word.”
I hesitated, the question catching me off guard.Callumanswered first.
“Relentless,” he said, his voice softer than I expected. He looked at me, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the room.
I swallowed, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “Unpredictable.”
The word hung between us, and the crew exchanged knowing looks, clearly thrilled with the footage.
“Alright, that's a wrap!” someone called, and the crew dispersed, leavingCallumand me briefly alone in the charged silence.
“That was… something,” he said, his voice low as he turned to me.
I nodded, my pulse still racing. “Yeah. Something.”
Our eyes met, the unspoken tension crackling like a live wire. But before either of us could say anything more, we werepulled in opposite directions by our respective PR teams, the moment slipping away like sand through our fingers.
The rumbleof engines may have faded, but the energy of the Miami GP still thrummed through the air. The streets were alive with celebration, the city's pulse beating in every corner of the paddock. Hours later, that energy still lingered in my veins, electric and heady.
Standing on the podium earlier, champagne dripping from my hair, I'd felt a rush of pride.P3may not have beenP1, but it was a podium. And after the last few races, after everything, it feltdamngood.
Callumhad been standing just above me, golden under the Miami sun, champagne bottle in hand. He looked at home on the top step, like he belonged there all along and the rest of the world was just along for the ride.
I'd watched him lift the trophy overhead, effortless. Watched the way his grin burned bright and easy.
And I'd felt something stir inside me.
I couldn't believe it took me this long to come to the realization. That I could be happy for someoneelse'ssuccess, even if mine wasn't where I wanted it yet. Maybe that meant I'd settled into this life. Maybe that meant something else entirely.
Now, back at the hotel, that same energy buzzed under my skin. A different kind of high.
The silky pink dress draped over the chair like temptationitself—soft at a glance, sinful in intent. It clung to every curve, ending high enough to raise questions and low enough to keep the answers to herself. The heels beside it were high, but tonight wasn't about practicality. It was about letting go. About feeling good for no one else but myself.
Just a woman in her twenties, living her best life. Letting herself be selfish for once.
I slipped the dress on and carefully stepped into my heels, my reflection catching my eye in the full-length mirror. A dangerous thought surfaced in my mind.
I looked good. And I knew exactly who would appreciate that fact.
Still tipsy from the bottle of wine room service had delivered, I grabbed my phone. The buzz made me bold. TheSnapchatcamera flicked open, the mirror image of my face staring back. I adjusted my pose slightly, just enough to let the soft hotel lighting kiss my skin in all the right places.
My fingers hovered over the send button. ToCallum.
A thrill licked up my spine.
I typed out the caption way too smugly.
