Page 16 of Close Contact
He knelt in front of me to tighten the straps around my thighs. His hands were steady, slow, like heknewexactly 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 washim. 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 somethingelseentirely now.
“Callum…” I whispered, breath catching as my fingers slipped into his hair, not tentative, butneedy.
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,moncœur.”
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.
Callumwent 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,”Callumsaid 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, maybeever, 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 justbreathe. 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 freedomCallumhad 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,Callumwas 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 ça 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.”
