When he returned with the drink, I slid a hefty tip across the counter. “Thanks,” I said, lowering my voice. “Appreciate you keeping it… discreet.”
He pocketed the cash with a nod. “Of course, Mr. Fraser.”
I turned back toAurélie, who raised an eyebrow. “Bribing bartenders now?”
“Just being polite,” I said, smirking. “Come on, let’s sit somewhere quieter.”
She hesitated for a moment before picking up her drink and rising to her feet. When she was several feet away, I leaned toward the bartender, slipping him more folded bills as I ordered four tequila shots. “Whatever you think you see tonight,” I said quietly, “you didn’t.”
He took the tip, subtly pulling it across the bar. “Got it.”
The lighting was low, the shadows casting soft angles overAurélie’sface as I slid in beside her in the round corner booth. The bartender brought the shots and lime wedges and retreated quickly. I lined them up between us.
“For every shot,” I said, grinning, “we each get to ask two questions. Deal?”
“Two?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Two,” I confirmed. “Ladies first.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“Doubt it.” I pushed a shot glass in her direction.
She picked it up, eyeing me over the rim before tossing it backwithout a flinch, then sucking on the lime wedge in an entirely distracting way. Fuck, maybe this was a bad idea. I wasn’t strong enough to resist her tonight.
“Alright. Fine,” she started, her voice tinged with a challenge. “Why do you race?” A glint of curiosity sparkled in her eyes as she leaned back, waiting for my response.
And God, I only wanted her closer.
I cocked my head, considering her question. One I hadn’t asked myself in a long time. “I race because it’s the only time I feel truly alive. The rush, the speed—it’s addictive. And winning… well, there’s no feeling like it in the world.” I hoped she saw the truth in my words beyond the bravado.
She gave me a thoughtful smile. “Fair enough. Second question. Who’s your real driving hero?”
“Senna,” I said immediately. “And—don’t laugh—my dad. He’s the one who got me into racing. He only made it toF2, though.”
“I wouldn’t laugh at that. It makes sense. My dad got my brother and I into racing when we were fresh out oftoddlerhood.”
Auréliereached for another shot and slid it toward me. “Your turn.”
I grinned, feeling the tension between us crackling in the air like electricity. I downed mine with ease, relishing the burn that matched the intensity of her gaze. I leaned closer, determined to reel her in.
“Who was the first person you ever beat on the track?” I asked, knowing the answer would reveal a piece of her past that she rarely shared.
She cleared her throat, clearly surprised. “Étienne.”
I was immediately intrigued by the significance of that victory over her twin brother. “And how did it feel?”
A hint of nostalgia softened her features. “Exhilarating. It was the moment I knew I belonged behind the wheel. And I was only five.” As she spoke, I couldn’t help but admire the passion in her that matched my own. The one that had captured my attention since my first conversation with her.
I studied her for a moment. “Who’s your real driving hero? And this time, I want the real answer.”
She hesitated, her gaze falling to the table, where she toyed with the edge of the coaster under her glass. “You,” she admitted, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it. “You and… Senna andProst.”
I blinked. “Me?”
She nodded, avoiding my eyes. She traced the edge of her glass—delicate, restless. Like she needed something to hold onto, and didn’t want it to be me. Yet. “Your consistency, the way you always find a gap when most other drivers can’t. Your flawless execution in overtaking other drivers. You push the car to its limits without going over the limit. It’s… inspiring.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I cleared my throat. “Didn’t see that coming.”
