Page 60 of Close Contact
“Aurélie,” my mother began, but I held up a hand.
“This isn’t up for debate,” I said firmly. “I love you both, but I need to heal from all of this bullshit. I need to do this. For me.”
With that, I grabbed my bag and left my suite, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the hallway. My chest ached, but it wasn’t sadness or regret. It was resolve.
When I re-entered the paddock, I was met with the sound of a crowd still cheering, and that was the reminder I needed of why I’d fought so hard to be here.
This was my moment, my life, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take that from me.
Freedom had never tasted so sweet.
I avoided the crowd,the noise of celebrations fading as I found a quieter corner of the paddock. The night air was damp and cool, the aftermath of the rainstorm today lingering.
My body ached, exhaustion creeping in now that the adrenaline from the race and the argument with my family was wearing off. I leaned against a railing, closing my eyes and letting the distant hum of voices wash over me. Just a minute, I told myself. Just one minute to collect myself.
What I really needed was to have Jules give me a post-race massage and change out of my suit, but until my family left my suite, that wasn’t happening.
Honestly, it probably wasn’t long until my suite turned into a full-blown party zone anyway. Themotorhomesturned into that due to the limited space in Monaco.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
Callum
Let me know when you’re free. I need to see you.
It was just eleven words, but they heated my blood and softened something inside me. After everything—the week I’d had, winning, my family—I needed that, too. I needed him. His voice, his hands, his calm. I hadn’t even changed yet, but I didn’t care. I was going to him.
You said “when I’m free.” Well… I’m all yours now. And I really, really need to be kissed again.
Callum
Thank fuck because I’m dying.
I sighed contentedly, darting between themotorhomesto find him. I knew he wouldn’t be far with how compact the space was.
But then I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, and I pivoted, half expecting to seeCallum. Instead, it was a presence I didn’t want.
“Aurélie.” His voice was smooth as oil but rotten underneath.
My stomach lurched as I recoiled from the one person I’d worked to ignore all weekend, and now I was alone with him in a dark space.
Swallowing, I said, “Santino. What are you doing here?”
He leaned casually against one of the buildings, his smile as sharp as I remembered. “Came to see history in the making. Quite the performance today.”
“Thanks,” I said shortly, already turning away. I didn’t have the energy for this.
But he wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his tone shifting from faux-charming to something darker. “No need to be so cold, machérie. I couldn’t resist checking in. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”
My fists clenched at my sides.Do. Not. React.“What do you want,Costa?”
He shrugged, his eyes gleaming with a cruel edge. “Just a little recognition, that’s all. Let’s not pretend I didn’t play a part in your rise to stardom. Every win, every podium—you have me to thank for that.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “You taught me nothing except who I never want to be.”
His smirk faltered for a second before he stepped closer, crowding my space. “You don’t want to start something you can’t finish,” he hissed.
My heart started to pound, a mix of anger and unease swirling together. “Back off,Santino. What we had has been finished for a long time.”
