Chapter 93 Aurélie #2
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said nonchalantly.
“We literally caught you in Fraser’s hoodie. Unless you own a twin set of Fraser’s bleach-stained lucky hoodie, we’re not idiots,” Marco argued.
I picked at my nails. “He let me borrow it because I was cold after the podium celebration.”
They both scoffed.
“That is such bullshit—”
“Oh, what a cop-out—”
Callum’s box joined the call and the screen split four ways now. He was still in the living room, expression so unbothered it bordered on cocky. It took everything in me not to react. “Evening, gentleman. And Aurélie.”
“Don’t evening us, Fraser! Are you, or are you not, in the same flat as the Monaco Grand Prix Champion right now?” Marco demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at us through the phone. I just smiled.
“Do you usually do wellness checks on your teammates’ emotional states?” Callum deadpanned.
“Only when one of them wins Monaco and then mysteriously vanishes for hours,” Kimi said. “Dubois, I looked for you hours ago.”
“Sorry,” I said flippantly. “Big day. Had to avoid my brother’s shadow, you know?”
Callum laughed, and that bastard was going to give it all away.
“Liar. I know for a fact our hotel has too much architecture preserved to have modern ceiling fans like the room you’re in,” Kimi pointed out, and I fucking fell for it.
I tilted my head back to see the damning fixture above me, just as Kimi turned his camera to show the ornate chandelier in the fancy ancient hotel we’d been put in.
Well, shit.
“Also, what the fuck happened to your hand, Fraser?” Marco asked.
Callum looked directly at the camera, completely monotone as he said, “Setup from the cockpit.”
I ducked my head from view of the camera and snorted before I could stop it. “Sorry. Allergies.”
“I cannot believe you’re both trying to gaslight us. I literally saw you leaving his hotel room last weekend, Dubois. Kimi, show the flooring comparison again.”
Kimi shared his screen as if it was some sort of school presentation. “Exhibit A: Aurélie’s photo.” He showed my photo before swiping to Callum’s. “Exhibit B: Callum’s photo clearly showing the same flooring. But wait, there’s more.”
“This feels like cyberbullying, Kimi, and I’m disappointed in you,” I said, doing my fucking best to keep a straight face.
“This is cyberbullying. But it’s justice, too,” Marco sneered. “Kimi, continue.”
Callum just looked faintly amused, and suddenly a text flashed across the top of my screen.
Callum
I’m thinking about how good your pussy tastes right now. End this charade. PLEASE.
I choked just as Kimi showed a picture of Callum and Marco in the gym. And guess what Callum was wearing? The same fucking black hoodie rumpled on the bed beside me. With visible bleach stains on the sleeve.
“Exhibit C: Callum wearing his lucky hoodie. Thank you for providing this evidence, Marco. And finally, ladies and gentleman, we’ll go back to Exhibit A, where you can clearly see the same stains on the sleeve.”
“I already told you he let me wear it because I was cold.”
“This is why we didn’t tell you guys. You act like feral gremlins,” Callum said.
“Feral gremlins who are right.” Kimi smirked smugly, leaning back against the headboard of the bed he was on.
“Callum,” I hissed, slapping my hand over my forehead. But then I got an idea.
“HA. We knew it!” Marco looked way too fucking pleased with himself.
Kimi and Marco went back and forth for a moment while I fired off a text to Callum.
Remember earlier when I told you I’d beg for it?
Knowing damn well I wasn’t planning on it, because he’d just outed us officially to Marco and Kimi without consulting me first. And I got to watch in real time how big Callum’s eyes got, and then he was standing and moving quickly through his flat.
Oh no.
Marco and Kimi were still rapid-firing questions while my whole world narrowed to the sound of Callum’s footsteps coming down the hallway.
“How long have you guys been seeing each other?”
“Is it official?”
“Casual or serious?”
“Should we come up with couple nicknames?”
The bedroom door swung open and I scrambled to my knees, stomach bottoming out at the dark, feral look on Callum’s face.
“So,” I cut in. “Where are we going to celebrate tonight?” Callum froze in the doorway, still clutching his phone, and my voice echoed from his speaker.
Merde.
“Oh, my God, Marco, they were in different rooms pretending not to be together! This is embarrassing for you both.”
“Some of us value privacy. Something you two clearly do not understand.” I glowered at them through the screen, still adamantly ignoring Callum slowly stepping into the room.
“Ew, and she’s in the guest room! Hey, I sleep there sometimes!” Marco whined. Then he squinted. “Wait a damn second. What’s that on your neck?”
“Is that… a bruise? Fraser, did you seriously bite her?” Kimi asked.
From my little square I could see the faint purple mark peeking out just above the neckline of my pajama top. I blinked, my hand flying up to my neck like I could hide it.
Dammit, Callum.
“No. It’s from my harness straps. I took a turn too tight and it shifted and pinched me. Left a little bruise, that’s all.”
Marco scoffed. “Monaco is literally the slowest circuit on the calendar. Be so fucking for real right now. Took a turn too tight?”
“Did debris hit you during the race? Blink twice if you’re okay,” Kimi said.
“I said it was tight! You know Monaco is also the… the—ugh, I don’t know how to say it—it’s one of the twistiest! Les virages? Très… twisty? Twisty-est?”
“Did she just say twisty-est?” Marco asked.
Kimi wheezed. I was not amused. “Les twisty-est virages! Incredible. Put that on a T-shirt.”
“Back to the matter at hand, which is that you two are godawful liars—that looks exactly like someone marked their territory.”
Kimi nodded vehemently. “We already know Fraser is into pain and poetry.”
That gave me pause. I turned slowly to face Callum, who’d taken a few steps into the room and was watching me curiously. This was a known fact about him? Uh-uh. Didn’t like that. Not one fucking bit.
“Well, as the reigning Monaco champion, I think I know what bruised my neck. But thanks for your concern.”
Callum was at the end of the bed now, and I swallowed. He better not make a fucking scene right now. I grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him. He chuckled like the smug asshole he was and said, “You should thank me, actually.”
Marco gasped, and Kimi reared his head back.
“FRASER CONFIRMED IT. THIS IS AN ADMISSION OF GUILT.” Marco was shouting like a child while I sat there fuming.
“What he meant was that it happened when I overtook him. So yes, thank you, Callum, for the win today. And to the two of you little shits, nothing is happening here. Why do you think I’m in the guest room?”
They both stopped, contemplating. Callum hung up, his square disappearing from the screen as he tossed his phone on the bed, and the other two immediately began rioting again.
“Tell him to get his ass back on here.”
“Mmm, no. He came in here looking for something while I’m trying to plan my victory party tonight.
” Callum reached for my ankle, but I moved to the head of the bed.
“Anyway, as I was saying before the interrogation. You two can fight over who gets to buy the first round. I want champagne and fries for the harassment tonight. Possibly a crown for my win.”
Marco feigned annoyance. “Where am I going to get a crown at this hour?”
“We’re in Monaco. I’m sure there are plenty of jewelry stores open.”
“Sounds like something a boyfriend should do.”
“Well, I don’t have one of those, so I’m sure you won’t mind.”
“Damn, I was rooting for it,” Kimi muttered at the same time Marco said, “But what about Fras—”
“I need to go change now. Text me the details. Au revoir, boys!” I hung up and leveled Callum with a challenging glare.
“Aurélie,” he rasped, eyes dragging down my body, settling on my little pink shorts.
“Nope. Don’t look at me like that. You almost gave us away.”
His throat bobbed, and he climbed on the bed to crawl toward me. “I didn’t mean—”
I practically leaped off the mattress to avoid his touch. If he reached me, I wasn’t confident I’d be able to resist. “You think a little text about how I taste was going to get me back in your lap after that?”
He sat back on his heels and dragged his hands through his hair. Ugh. Why did he have to look so hot all the goddamn time? “I told you not to answer them.”
“Oh? So this is my fault? I’m now responsible for your actions?”
It was so goddamn fun watching the wheels in his brain turn as he deciphered my mood. Sure, I was messing with him, but I was half serious, too. He should be held accountable. No one else seemed to be doing that for him.
“I mean, no, but—”
I shrugged, stretching my arms over my head and humming.
“Tonight, you can watch me lie in your bed and do absolutely nothing. Pas une putain de chose.” Then I pranced out of the room and down the hall into his room to get my duffel bag.
I double-backed, going to the living room for my glass of wine, then returned to the guest room.
Callum stood at the end of the bed, a bit stunned—like he didn’t quite expect to be caught red-handed or that I’d actually follow through on my little threat. He was hard under those joggers, hair mussed, eyes blazing. But I was far too satisfied with myself to give in.
He rounded the bed, grabbed my hips, and pulled me back into him after I set my things down.
“Don’t do this to me,” he groaned.
I slapped his hands away and stepped out of his hold. “Tu as creusé ta tombe… now lie in it.” I stood on my tiptoes and brushed a kiss to his lips. He cupped my face to deepen it, but I pulled back. “And you have to keep your hands to yourself tonight.”
He actually whimpered, the sound slipping out of him like it hurt. Meanwhile I just smiled internally. “Aurélie.” It was practically a whine. “Do we have to go out tonight?”