Chapter 72 Aurélie
aurélie
I’d brought her here to get her out of her own head, but the second she hit my arms, breathless and trembling… I was the one in free fall. -Callum
The gravel crunched under my boots, the wind tugging at my sweatshirt as I stepped out of the car. The air was crisp, sharper than I expected, but not enough to quiet the noise in my head.
I don’t know what I’d expected when he said he’d take me somewhere, but this? This was… bold. Completely mad. So Callum.
“Come on, chérie,” he said, his hand outstretched. Not mocking, not performative, but familiar.
My chest squeezed. It shouldn’t have meant so much, that little word.
But the way it slipped from his lips so naturally, like it belonged to me…
it cracked something open. He’d called me mon amour earlier, too.
Just a whisper that I thought I had imagined.
It was him calling me love but in my language—and fuck, I wish it didn’t make me melt the way it did.
For the first time in a long while, I wasn’t surrounded by noise—engines, media questions, or the endless chatter of the paddock.
Just silence and Callum’s presence next to me.
It struck me how much he’d done for me in the last couple of hours.
From sitting with me in that dark, suffocating room to orchestrating a way out of the paddock without making me feel like a spectacle, Callum had been there in a way I hadn’t expected, one I didn’t know I needed.
A lump formed in my throat as I thought about it.
I’d spent so much time convincing myself I was alone in this fight, that I couldn’t rely on anyone without being seen as weak.
But tonight, Marco, Kimi, and especially Callum had shown me something different.
I wasn’t alone. People cared, and it wasn’t because of some calculated PR move or an obligation—it was real. They cared about me.
The sun illuminated Callum’s face as it began to set, casting shadows that made his expression harder to read. But the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flicked toward me now and then, told me everything I needed to know. He was worried.
Something inside me shifted as I watched him.
Callum had always been a rival, a challenge on and off the track.
A distraction and a wet dream. But tonight, he felt like something more.
A protector, a defender, and maybe something else I wasn’t ready to admit yet.
My heart ached as I thought about the stupid boundary I’d put between us—waiting until the end of the season, as if that would make anything easier.
The truth was, if Luminis was going to cut me anyway, what was the point of waiting? Why not take something for myself, just this once?
I couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped me, the sound surprising even myself. “You’ve done this before?”
“A few times,” he admitted. “It’s freeing, especially when you need to get away from all the noise. You’ll see.”
My legs—still sore from this week’s events—felt unsteady as I followed him, the adrenaline already starting to creep into my veins.
Callum led the way to the registration desk, his hand brushing against mine before he took hold of it.
I entwined my fingers with his. The warmth of his palm against mine sent a shiver through me, grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed until that moment.
It felt almost normal, like this was how a relationship was supposed to feel, and when I looked up at him, I took in every little detail.
The way his brow knit, the subtle sweep of his tongue across his lower lip.
The texture of his callouses against my palm, his thumb drawing soft, absent circles over my knuckles—as if he didn’t even realize he was holding me.
I sighed internally. How was this real life?
We signed waivers, the attendant explaining the process and safety measures in detail. Callum listened intently, his focus unwavering, while my mind raced with nerves and anticipation. When it came time to gear up, he didn’t hesitate to help me with the harness.
“Stand still,” he murmured as I stepped into the loops so he could slide it over my hips and waist. Fire licked through my nerves everywhere he touched, desire gathering low in my belly.
He was so close, I could feel his warmth, smell his cologne—at least, that’s what I thought that dark and addictive smell was.
Like bergamot, leather, and whiskey. Danger wrapped in velvet.
I could’ve buried my face into his hoodie and stayed there for hours, drunk on the scent that was so unmistakably him.
I wanted to pull him into me and tell him how much I appreciated what he did for me, but words failed me once again.
He knelt in front of me to tighten the straps around my thighs.
His hands were steady, slow, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on me.
Every graze of his fingers against my skin sent another jolt of heat through me.
I should’ve been focused on the harness, the jump, the whole damn reason we were here.
Instead, all I could focus on was him. The way his broad shoulders looked from this angle, how his waves fell into his eyes as he worked, the faint rasp of stubble brushing against my hand when he leaned in to double-check a buckle.
Fuck.
I was supposed to be recovering, coming down from everything, but I could feel my pulse between my legs. My body had finally caught up to the emotional unraveling and decided it needed something else entirely now.
“Callum…” I whispered, breath catching as my fingers slipped into his hair, not tentative, but needy.
He froze. His gaze lifted to mine, heat simmering in those pale blue eyes—still reverent, still soft, but darker now.
Hungrier. I swallowed hard, my thighs clenching on instinct, a heat coiling low and so fucking fast it made me lightheaded.
My mind flooded with memories of his voice in my ear days ago, all filthy praise and dirty promises.
What he’d called me. What he’d made me feel.
“Thank you,” I breathed, though the words felt too small for the depth of what I meant and what I wanted.
His mouth twitched at the corner, but he didn’t smile. Not really. His voice dropped, all velvet and gravel. “You’re so fucking brave, mon c?ur.”
My heart.
I swayed slightly on my feet when my stomach bottomed out. I wanted that mouth on me, wanted him inside me, wanted to be consumed by him.
“Always,” he added, finally tugging the last strap into place. And then, before standing, he leaned in—his breath a whisper against the exposed sliver of flesh between my jeans and my shirt.
“You’ll fly,” he murmured. “And I’ll be right here when you land.” He placed the smallest of kisses there, and I literally fucking whimpered. Could barely breathe.
He stood, brushed off his hands, and gestured to the platform. “Ready?”
“Not even close,” I muttered, but I followed him anyway, legs shaking, heat curling low and deep. Ugh. So not the time for this.
Callum went first, his confidence unshaken as he stepped to the edge.
He exchanged a few words with the instructor, who double-checked the straps of his harness, before leaning back into the restraints.
With a whoop of excitement, he launched himself off the bridge, the rope snapping taut as he plunged toward the water below.
My heart raced as I leaned over the railing of the bridge and watched him fall like it meant something, his laughter echoing up to the platform.
When he was pulled back up, he grinned at me, his cheeks flushed with exhilaration. It was an adorable look on a man of his stature. “Your turn, Dubois.”
I swallowed hard, my palms sweating as I stepped to the edge. The instructor guided me through the final steps, checking my gear, but all I could think about was the drop below. My heart pounded in my ears, every instinct screaming at me to back away.
“You’ve got this,” Callum said from behind me, his voice steady and reassuring. “Just let go.”
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let myself fall.
The rush was immediate and overwhelming.
Wind whipped past me, tearing through my hair, the roar of the water below growing louder with every second.
My scream tore from my throat, raw and cathartic, as the weight of everything I’d been holding onto slipped away.
The rope caught, bouncing me back up, and I opened my eyes to take in the view.
The world spun, the river rushing below, the sky stretching endlessly above.
For the first time in weeks, maybe months, maybe ever, I felt alive. Well and truly alive.
The air was colder here, sharper, as I swayed above the river.
My scream had emptied my lungs, and all that was left was silence—pure and unbroken, save for the rush of water below.
The world seemed to stretch infinitely, the cliffs rising like ancient sentinels, the river carving its path through time.
I closed my eyes, letting the wind kiss my face, and I let myself just breathe.
Not the shallow, panicked breaths of survival but deep, soul-cleansing breaths.
In this moment, I wasn’t a driver. I wasn’t fighting battles in the paddock or holding my ground against the world. I was just… here.
A small laugh bubbled up, unbidden, as the realization hit me.
This was the freedom Callum had mentioned.
Not in the controlled chaos of a race car but in surrendering to something bigger than myself.
The weight I’d been carrying was still there, but it was lighter now, as if the fall had stripped away the worst of it.
When I was pulled back to the platform, Callum was waiting, his arms open. I didn’t hesitate, throwing myself into him and holding on tight.
“Thank you,” I said again, my voice muffled against his chest.
His hand rested on the back of my head, his touch gentle. “Anytime,” he murmured.
I pulled back to look at him, his face blurry through my tears.
“You’re not hearing me,” I whispered, swallowing down a sob.
The only way I could convey how he’d really made me feel was in French, and I hoped he was fluent enough to grasp the gravity of what I was about to say.
“Merci—d’avoir été là pour moi quand personne d’autre ne l’était.
Pour être un havre de paix pour moi. De me soucier de moi et de ne pas me soucier du reste du monde.
Tu m’as sauvé de moi-même. Personne n’a fait ca pour moi auparavant. Tu es… incroyable.”
Thank you—for being there for me when no one else was. For being a safe space for me. For caring about me, and not caring about the rest of the world. You saved me from myself. No one has done that for me before. You are amazing.
He searched my face, his arms still locking me in a tight embrace, and I waited with bated breath for him to understand what I’d said. Then he smiled bashfully, color rising in his cheeks, and I knew he got it.
“Aurélie…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “You don’t have to thank me for caring about you. You… matter to me. More than you realize.”
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, and Luminis could 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 way Callum made me feel—protected, soft, feminine, important—was an intoxicating change from the typical guardedness I 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 then Callum took 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. Callum looked at me as we paused by the passenger door, his gaze holding something unspoken but undeniable.
I didn’t look away.