I tightened my hold around him, as he remained strong and steady. Not that it did a damn thing to prevent me from falling for him harder than my fall off that platform… I felt… safe. Not the fragile, fleeting kind of safety that could be snatched away in a heartbeat, but something deeper, solid and unshakable.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my tears soaking into his shirt, but I didn’t care. The world outside could crumble, the paddock could gossip itself into a frenzy, andLuminiscould fall to ashes. Right now, all that mattered was the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my cheek, a quiet reassurance that I wasn’t alone.
I was tired of always having to portray myself in a certain manner, and the wayCallummade me feel—protected, soft, feminine, important—was an intoxicating change from the typicalguardednessI always had to have in the paddock.
I tightened my grip around him, my fingers clutching at his shirt like it was a lifeline. Maybe it was. His arms felt like home, and I wasn’t ready to leave them. Not yet. Those feelings for him could be dangerous for me, for my career, for our rivalry, for my heart. I knew that, but I didn’t care anymore. That was when I knew I was ready to tell someone my full story.
Our embrace ended, leaving me with chills as the breeze swept around us. We loosened our harnesses and handed them back to the instructor, and thenCallumtook my hand in his as we headed to the car without saying a word.
And yet… all I wanted was his hands on my body, his voice in my head, his heart to belong to me.
The gravel crunched softly under our feet, the distant sound of the water fading into the sunset, signaling the end of a very difficult day.Callumlooked at me as we paused by the passenger door, his gaze holding something unspoken but undeniable.
I didn’t look away.
The drive back was quiet,but not in a way that made my skin itch like most silences did. It wasn’t uncomfortable; if anything, it felt like a reprieve. After everythingAuréliehad been through today, the last thing I wanted was to disturb whatever peace she’d found.
The road stretched out ahead of us, winding through the outskirts of Monte Carlo. The city lights were in front of us now, replaced by shadows and the occasional flicker of headlights from passing cars. My hands gripped the wheel, my knuckles white, though I wasn’t sure if it was from focus or the weight of my thoughts. Her words still lingered, replaying in my head like a broken record. How she’d thanked me. My heart had stuttered when she said it, the gravity of her confession slamming into me like a rogue wave. She’d looked at me with those shimmering eyes, so vulnerable and raw. It wasn’t often I found myself at a loss for words, but tonight was full of firsts.
The blush crept up my neck before I could stop it, my usual confidence faltering under the weight of her gaze. What was I supposed to say to that? My throat had felt tight, and for a split second, I’d considered deflecting—making some quip to lighten the moment, but I just knew she didn’t need my sarcasm right now.
I’d swallowed hard, my pulse thrumming in my ears as I’d tried to piece together the right response. Something profound. Something that could match what she’d just given me. But all I could manage was the truth, so I’d said the only thing that felt right.You don’t have to thank me for caring about you.
I flicked my eyes toward her, just long enough to catch the softening in her features. She was staring out the window, her face bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights. The tension in her shoulders had eased, her body leaning slightly against the door as if the day was finally catching up to her. She looked peaceful, almost fragile in a way that twisted something deep in my chest.
I’d always thought ofAurélieas invincible. She was fierce, determined, and utterly unshakable on the track, but tonight, I’d seen another side of her—a side that wasn’t made of steel and fire but of flesh and bone. Vulnerable. Human. It scared the hell out of me, because it made me care even more.
This isn’t just a rivalry,I thought, gripping the wheel tighter.Not to me.
She wasn’t just my competition. She was this brilliant, maddening woman who’d battled for every inch of respect she’d earned in this sport. I admired her, respected her, and maybe, just maybe, I wanted to protect her and take care of her in ways that went beyond anything I’d ever felt for someone else.
The thought made my heart thunder, a mix of longing and dread coiling together like two sides of the same coin. I couldn’t afford to feel this way—not about her. It was dangerous, for bothof us. Everything was at stake. But the more time I spent with her, the harder it became to ignore the pull.
Maybe it was a sign I shouldn’t ignore it.
“Callum?” Her voice broke through the quiet, soft but steady.
I glanced at her again, my pulse quickening at the way she looked at me. Fuck. I was so far gone for this woman. “Yeah?”
“Can I… stay with you tonight?” she asked, hesitating slightly. “I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Her words landed softly, but the weight of what she was asking wasn’t lost on me.AurélieDuboisdidn’t lean on people. She faced everything with her chin high and shoulders squared, even when the world was stacked against her. It was unexpected, and I’d be damned if I didn’t do everything in my power to make her feel safe tonight.
Chest aching and all too eager to keep her near me at all costs, I nodded without a second thought. “Of course. You can take the guest room.”I’d like it better if you were in mine, but…
Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and not for the first time tonight, I felt like I’d done something right.
As we pulledup to my building, I made a split-second decision. The valet would be too risky. Too many prying eyes that could connect the dots. Instead, I smoothly drove past the waiting attendants and headed straight for the underground garage. I maneuvered through the familiar paths, each turn bringing me closer to my designated parking spot.
The moment I cut the ignition, silence descended like a heavy cloak around us. The air inside the car seemed charged with unspoken words, emotions swirling between us like a tempestuous sea. She turned to me, tucking her hair behind her ear with a soft, tired smile.
“I know I’m repeating myself but… I just wanted to saymerciagain. I sound like a baguette on repeat.”
I blinked. “A… baguette?”
She nodded, completely serious. “Is that not the phrase?”
I snorted.Chokedon my own laugh, actually. “That is absolutely not the phrase.”
