Page 50 of Close Contact
The way her team erupted around her was electric. I could see it even from here—the joy, the disbelief, the sheer fucking magnitude of what she’d just accomplished. Monaco. Pole to victory. Against me, Marco, and every asshole who said she didn’t belong here and plotted against her.
And damn if she didn’t make it look good.
She jumped down, running over to her team and giving them hugs and high fives. Her head turned, scanning the crowd like she was searching for something—until her gaze snagged on mine like gravity.
I didn’t think. My body acted on instinct, my legs carrying me toward her. I heard the murmurs, saw the cameras swiveling, but none of it mattered. She didn’t move, not at first, just stood there as if she couldn’t quite believe it was over.
I didn’t stop. I closed the space between us and hauled her into my arms, the crash of relief and pride flooding through me like a tidal wave. She was here. She was safe. And she was mine. Her body tensed for a moment, and then she softened against me, her handsfistingthe back of my suit as if she needed me to stay upright.
“You were incredible. I’m so fucking proud of you,” I said, my voice low enough that no one else could hear. Rain pattered against our helmets and ran off our visors as I pulled back to meet her eyes. “I knew you could do it, my love.”
“I couldn’t have done it without knowing you were there. You believed in me when no one else did.”
My heart ached, and I almost said it to her—this time in a way that mattered. But then Marco’s voice cut shattered the moment.
“Dubois!”
We both turned. Marco ran toward her, helmet already discarded. He wrapped her in a bear hug before releasing her to squeeze her shoulders.
“You’re a bloody legend!” Marco shouted, laughing as she worked on removing her helmet and balaclava.
Her braids were loosening, damp strands clinging to her flushed cheeks, and she’d never looked more beautiful in her life. But the most heart-stopping thing about her? The grin on her face while her eyes watered.
Kimiwasn’t far behind, his helmet also gone. His smile was boyish and unrestrained as he reached her. “Ray!” he said simply, before lifting her into the air like she weighed nothing. He spun her around.
Auréliewas laughing now, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clung toKimi, her joy infectious. I watched her knowing I’d never forget this image of her—radiant, victorious, and everything I’d always admired about her.
A hand clapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to see Marco. “Come on, mate,” he said. “Cool-down room waits for no one.”
I looked back one last time asKimiset her down. Her eyes met mine, and everything we couldn’t say quite yet burned in the space between us. Our connection hummed, electric and unspoken.
With a nod, I followed Marco, my thoughts a whirlwind as we completed our weigh-ins, then stopped for a quick post-race interview. Marco went first, and after a few questions, I was waved forward.
“Callum, you finishedP2today—a great result that keeps you in the lead for championship. What are your thoughts onAurélieDuboistaking the win?”
I didn’t hesitate. “She was incredible out there. A flawless drive, perfect strategy. She earned every bit of that win, and knowing that this is her rookie season makes it that much more impressive.”
“Were you surprised by her overtaking move after the safety car?”
“Surprised? Not really.”Horny because of it? Yes.“I knew she’d pull out all the stops. I just didn’t expect her to do it better than I could.”
“There’s been a lot of buzz about your rivalry with her. Does today change anything?”
I fought to keep my emotions at bay, but it was a struggle. I wanted to turn and find her celebrating her victory in the crowd and hated these work obligations. “Rivalry or not, she’s a talented driver, and today she made history. If anything, I think today proves what she’s capable of. And I’ll be looking forward to our next battle.”
Another reporter stepped up. “Last question,Callum, and we’ll let you go. Is there anything you would’ve changed about your strategy today?”
“No. Rain always complicates things and is a true testament to a driver’s abilities. Growing up in Scotland means that I’ve had an incredible amount of practice driving in the rain, but that’s not the case for all drivers on the grid. Today, both Vanguards made it to the podium, and for that, I’m grateful.”
I gave the reporters a parting smile before leaving to go to the cool-down room. It was quieter there. A nice reprieve. Marco handed me a bottle of water, and I downed half of it in one go, the adrenaline still coursing through me.
“She’s something else,” Marco said, shaking his head as he sat down, watching the TV running replays of the race.
A slow, helpless smile curved my mouth as the screen showed her going toe-to-toe with me like she was born to do it. She was something else, all right. “She deserved it.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “She did.”
At that moment, I knew.
