Page 67 of Close Contact
Is that Callum’s flooring?
Kimi
Zoom in. Enhance.
[image sent]
@Marco, does this look like Callum’s flooring?
Marco
YES AND THAT’S HIS COFFEE TABLE.
[image sent]
I also caught the corner of her sleeve. Or should I say HIS SLEEVE. Those bleach stains have been there for years.DUBOIS, HE’S LETTING YOU WEAR HIS LUCKY HOODIE?
Kimi
Explain yourselves. Immediately. How long has this been going on for?
I snorted, nearly spilling my wine. The bleach stains were, in fact, visible in the photo. Barely.
“They’re onto us,” I murmured.
“You made the sex comment to Marco, not me.” Callumdidn’t even look up from where he was inspecting his bruised knuckles, phone in his lap.
“Joke. Sex joke. There’s a difference. We obviously did not have sex right after the race.”
“Do you think he knew that?”
“Marco knows there wasn’t enough time between the podium and the interview.”
He finally raised his head to arch a brow at me, then held out his hand. “Let me see what you’re going on about.”
I passed him my phone.
“What did you do?”Callumgaped in horror at the messages before handing my phone back.
“How was I supposed to know they were going to go full detective mode?”
“You saw how obsessive Marco got over theTikToks. Oh God,andthat fake story.” He groaned, head falling back against the couch.
I frowned. “Fake story?”
“Yeah, that fake story.Red Flag and Red Lace?”
I threw my head back and laughed. “You mean the fanfiction?”
“Yes, that. Whatever. They won’t give us an iota of peace until we shut it down.” He picked up his phone and the bottle of wine from the coffee table, and a moment later, a new message came through.
Callum
[image sent]
The photo was blurry and probably meant to be that way—the wine and the wall behind it with his overpriced modern artwork. Nothing significant.
“That’s going to make it worse, Call—” I started to say when a response came through right away.
