Page 9 of Close Contact
“Kiss me,” I repeated, my voice wavering. “Please.”
His voice dropped, sharp with alarm. “Aurélie, there arecameras. You can’t be serious.”
I flinched. My composure fractured a little more. He didn’t know—didn’t mean it likehim. It didn’t matter, though. I’d already slipped into the memory, into the shame, into the months of being someone’s secret. The wound had already reopened, bleeding insecurity into every corner of my already fragile mind. I wasn’t even sure if I was in the rightheadspaceto get in a Formula 1 car this weekend.
I couldn’t fall apart here. I just needed to reclaim the narrative, set the story somewhat straight, and put on a fake smile. I’d been doing it my whole life.
My breath hitched, and I stumbled back a step, shaking my head to clear the haze of panic and pain.
“Auri—”Callum’svoice softened, but I couldn’t look at him. Not now, when I was seconds away from crumbling in front of everyone. My eyes darted to Marco.Callumwould ask questions I couldn’t handle right now, but Marco wouldn’t overthink it. And right now, I needed simple. I needed control.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I turned, grabbed him by the shirt, and kissed him. Hard. It wasn’t soft or sweet—it wasn’t meant to be. It was raw and desperate, my way of screaming,“Look at me now. You don’t own me anymore.”
Marco stilled for half a second before kissing me back, his hands finding my waist. His mouth was gentle, almost friendly. It lasted only a moment, but it felt like a lifetime. I pulled away as fast as I’d lunged in, and the whole press pen fell silent before exploding in camera flashes.
And just like that, I was no longer prey. I was a fucking spectacle.
That was one hell of a way to show the world that I wasn’t withCallumlike they thought, though I wished it was him I had kissed instead. It should have been, but here he was, protecting our peace in a way that I clearly wasn’t, and all because my ex had found a way to infect my mind again.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Marco murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
My chest heaved as I stepped back, releasing him. My gaze involuntarily flicked toward my ex. His smirk had slipped, replaced by a dark, calculating glare that sent a thrill of vindication through me.
The satisfaction around us exploded in a frenzy of shouted questions.
Oh, yeah.
“Dubois! Is this a love triangle?”
“Callum, what’s your reaction to this?”
“Marco, are you andCallumfighting over her?”
One glance atCallumshowed a look akin to a deer in the headlights. His jaw clenched, his gaze flickering between me and the sea of cameras. Guilt wound through me, but I couldn’t focus on that right now. The chaos was deafening, but my focus was suddenly sharp. The cameras were on, the questions flying, but for the first time in days, I felt in control. I could either let them write the story for me or take the pen back. My pulse steadied,and with a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders back and turned toward the media pen, walking forward until I was front and center.
I held up my hand. “Enough.” The questions died. “Now that I have everyone’s attention. Enough is enough. These rumors and social media videos are out of hand. Fraser and I are competitors, nothing more. The same goes forBianchi.”
“Then why the cozy mornings in the lobby, eh?” a voice called out from the crowd.
“This is exactly what I mean. You see me in a man’s shirt, and suddenly I’m not a driver. I’m a scandal.” My voice rose with each word. “I’ve been in the points all season. I deserve to be here just as much as the other nineteen drivers on the grid. But oneDNF, and suddenly my seat is in question.”
The cameras clicked furiously as I continued, the weight of every injustice I’d faced as a female driver fueling my words.
“I get it. I’m in the spotlight and will face a lot of scrutiny from our millions of fans, but I’m a human just as the rest of you. All of us drivers are, so when rumors like this spread, it hurts our careers and impacts us deeply. And because of this gossip, I risk losing my seat for next year. I am the target of these baseless allegations while Fraser stands unaffected. Ask yourselves why that is.” I paused and took a deep breath.
“If I were romantically involved with Fraser, I wouldn’t have kissed his teammate, and the only reason I did that was to get your attention.” I gestured toward Marco, who shrugged and offered a cheeky wave. I didn’t dare look atCallum.
A murmur rippled through the press pit, but I wasn’t finished. I hoped this was enough forLuminis. “The double standard is glaring. If I were a man, none of this would be happening. But because I’m here, because I’m succeeding, you want to tear me down. This isn’t about gossip. This is about how women are treated in this sport.”
I took a step closer to the cameras, my voice rising with conviction. “This is sexism at its finest. I’m happy to talk more about this issue if any of you want to report on it.” Silence in the crowd. I offered them all a curt smile. “That’s what I thought. Take a look in the mirror. Call a spade a spade.”
I stepped back from the wall of microphones held by a multitude of reporters. Then, as if on cue, the questions started again, louder and more frantic than before. Some of them scribbled in notebooks furiously; others stood stunned and silent. Most were shouting follow-up questions and grappling to get closer with their microphones.
I didn’t acknowledge any of them. I turned and walked away.
Marco stepped aside to let me pass. “It’s just a kiss,” he murmured. “Unless you want it to mean more.”
I rolled my eyes and kept walking, butCallumwas there watching. His expression was unreadable, blue eyes locked on me. I didn’t stop, didn’t look back. My chest ached like I’d cracked something open and left it on display.
