Chapter 17
callum
It didn’t mean anything. It was just a conversation. A few messages. A little harmless fun. That’s what I kept telling myself. But my sex drive had other plans. -Aurélie
The way she’d looked at me when she drank from her champagne bottle, the noticeable blush on her cheeks when we were talking. Proof that I wasn’t the only one affected by this pull between us.
I could be out celebrating tonight with the rest of the team, likely the rest of the grid, finding someone to hook up with, but it felt right to stay back and have a drink in my hotel room alone.
I imagined she was, too. Alone in her hotel room, lying in bed, wine glass in hand. Maybe scrolling. Maybe thinking of me.
Besides, there was no chance in hell that I could think about someone else when she’d been infecting my mind for weeks now. Before I could overthink it, I opened Instagram to message her.
That podium smile suits you. You looked good up there. ;)
Aurélie
Doesn’t suit you too badly either. Not that I noticed.
Liar. Everyone notices me.
Aurélie
Wow. Humility suits you even better.
The three dots blinked on my screen for a moment before disappearing. I stared at the blank screen in anticipation, wondering if I’d said too much or if she’d decided I wasn’t worth her time. Then her reply came through.
Aurélie
But seriously, thank you. It feels… surreal. Like I’m dreaming and I’ll wake up to find I’m still in F2 living in my brother’s shadow.
Trust me, you’re not dreaming. You earned every second of that P3.
Aurélie
Even with all that ‘boxing out’ happening?
Especially with all the boxing out. Half the grid is scared of you now. They should be.
The pause between messages stretched just long enough to make me wonder if I’d crossed a line somehow. I probably had. At least, in my mind I had. I was already starting to think of how she looked with her race suit tied around her waist and how her tits—
Aurélie
Scared or annoyed?
Probably both.
Aurélie
Good. I’d hate for them to think I’m here to play nice.
Somehow, I don’t think you’ve ever played nice.
Her response came quicker this time.
Aurélie
You’d be right.
In more ways than one.
Jesus Christ. I shifted, feeling uncomfortably hard. She couldn’t say shit like that to me.
I grinned involuntarily, scrolling back through the messages like some lovesick teenager. She was sharp, witty, funny. It was refreshing in a world where everyone wore a mask—me included most of the time.
Seriously, though. You’re going to give me a run for my money this season.
Aurélie
All 50M of your contract this year?
Jesus, let’s not get out of hand now. I have a mortgage to pay, you know.
Aurélie
Sorry, just not used to standing in the presence of greatness.
Good thing you don’t pay taxes though, living in Monaco!
Should I be concerned with how much you know about me?
Aurélie
I could ask you the same thing. Don’t think your little secret about watching me in F2 didn’t get back to me.
Fuck. I groaned, because yeah… I’d been paying attention to her for a long time.
… Touché.
The silence stretched just long enough for me to second-guess everything. Long enough that I got up to grab a small bottle of whiskey from the mini fridge in my suite. When the reply came through, it was softer, less playful.
Aurélie
Thank you, Callum. For everything. It was nice to talk.
Anytime. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.
Aurélie
Careful. People might think you’re going soft.
I huffed a breath and shook my head. I couldn't resist my next response.
Pretty sure one part of me never got the memo.
The whiskey burned down my throat as I waited. A full minute passed. Then two. Goddamnit, this was definitely too far, too soon.
After another minute, she replied.
Aurélie
Then I must be doing something right.
I don't think you can do anything wrong.
Aurelie
That was very romantic, Fraser.
Only for you.
Aurélie
Bonne nuit, Fraser.
Sweet dreams, lover boy.
I chuckled, tossing my phone onto the bed. She was infuriatingly good at getting under my skin. Something warm bloomed in my chest—foreign, unshakable.
I didn't know what the fuck this was, just that I didn't want it to stop. Not the flirting, not the late-night messages, not her.
I couldn't get enough.