Chapter 106 Callum
callum
If he was going to kiss me in front of the world, I needed them all to see—he wasn’t just mine. I was his, too. – Aurelie
“Hey, Fraser.”
Marco’s voice snapped me back to reality as he dropped onto the couch across from me in our team’s hospitality suite. “You ready for quali? Or are you too busy still brooding over a certain Frenchwoman?”
“Shut up, Bianchi,” I muttered, barely looking up.
He wasn’t wrong.
I was distracted. I’d been distracted since Monaco. Since that night on the floor in front of the mirror. Since her soft Je t’aime broke me in the best fucking way.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since.
This morning, she sent me a video of her blowing me a kiss in the Luminis garage—“No one saw,” she’d typed, followed by the little pink heart I’d come to crave.
And yet, it still wasn’t enough.
Because she wasn’t here. Not with me. For almost three weeks, we’d been doing this dance.
“Come out tonight,” Marco said, clearly fishing. “There’s no shortage of French-speaking women in Montreal.”
I shot him a look that could’ve shattered glass. “Not interested.”
“Yeah, I figured.” He leaned back. “Just had to check that you’re still completely crazy about her.”
I didn’t respond because I absolutely was.
I’d just finished scrolling through a blurry paparazzi video of her walking into her hotel after press—dark glasses, hair tucked back, jean skirt and white sweater. She was glowing.
And I couldn’t touch her without the world spinning out.
The rumors weren’t dying down, but I didn’t fucking care anymore.
She was mine. And I was tired of pretending otherwise.
“You okay?” Marco asked, watching me too closely.
“I haven’t been sleeping.”
“You FaceTime her last night?”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
“’Til she passed out listening to me talk about tire degradation and the shit strategy we had in Spain.”
He laughed. “Romantic.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying, mate… you look ready to snap. Maybe you need to stop hiding it.”
I didn’t respond—he’d just read my mind.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled past our texts from earlier today—her telling me she missed the smell of my skin.
Me telling her I wanted her bent over the desk in her media room.
Her sending a voice note whispering “Don’t tempt me” in French.
And Jesus Christ, when she spoke French to me, I lost it every goddamn time.
My fingers hovered. And this time, I didn’t hesitate.
I’m done hiding.
Next time I see you, I’m kissing you in front of everyone. I don’t care who’s watching.
You’re mine.
Delivered.
Three dots appeared almost instantly. She missed me as much as I missed her.
My breath caught.
The dots disappeared, then came back a few moments later.
Aurélie
Do it.
I dare you.
You won’t.
I grinned. Heart pounding, blood racing the way it always did when it came to her.
This woman. This fucking woman knew exactly what she was doing to me. Challenging me like I wasn’t the most competitive motherfucker on this planet. I was one missed meeting away from marching into the Luminis garage and showing the world what I already knew:
She wasn’t my rival.
She was my reward.