Page 117 of Close Contact
“You should see the other guy,” he rasped, but the smirk barely held before his features twisted in agony.
“Not funny.” I brushed his sweaty locks from his forehead. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Liar.”
The medics started shifting again, but he lifted his bloody hand and waved them off, his voice sharpening just enough to command attention. “Just give me a second. Please.”
They hesitated and looked at each other before nodding and stepping back. Callum turned his head toward me, eyes burning despite the clear exhaustion. I squeezed his hand, trying to offer reassurance, though whether it was for him or me, I wasn’t sure.
“I don’t like seeing you cry, mon cœur.”
I wiped my sleeve across my face, taking tears and snot with it. Not like he hadn’t seen me like this already, but right now, I was being televised to the world. We weren’t tucked away in our little private corner of the world.
“You don’t know what I just went through,” I admitted.
He smiled sadly. “Listen to me, baby. You need to get back in the car and finish the race.”
“Are you crazy? No,” I snapped, appalled he would even suggest that. I was only going to retire my fucking car, not finish the goddamn race. “No. Absolutely fucking not. I’m staying right here, by your side. Besides, Igot out. I broke protocol. They’ll disqualify me.”
“I’ll handle the FIA,” he said, quiet but certain and so strained my heart ached.
“You’re insane. You just nearlydied, Callum!”
“And you’re not going to waste what we’ve both fought for.”
“I don’t care about the fucking championship right now!” I shouted, instantly feeling guilty when he flinched. “I care aboutyou,” I added, more gently.
“And I care aboutyouenough to tell you to get back in that fucking car and finish what you started,” he rasped, voice rough with pain. “I will not be the reason your momentum stalls. Not when you’ve fought so damn hard to be here.” I shook my head, tears falling in earnest. “I mean it. You are so close to everything you’ve worked for, and I won’t be the reason you miss it. Go be the incredible woman—and driver—that you are.”
I sobbed, dipping my chin to try to hide the uncontrollable emotions as much as I could. “No. Je ne peux pas.”I can’t.
“Goddammit, Aurélie, would you listen to me just this once? Please?”
The medics were getting antsy. I could tell they were itching to whisk Callum away by how they rocked back and forth on their heels, checked their watches, and inched their way closer. I knew we needed to wrap this up, that he needed to get help, but his grip on my hand tightened to the point of pain.
“You can still win this. Legally. No one touched your car. The race is red flagged.”
“I can’t just leave you like this.”
“You have to. For both of us.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded, throat burning, body trembling. The roar of the world around us fell away. And I hated how right he was.
“D’accord,” I whispered finally, relenting.
My hands cupped his jaw and I kissed him as if I hadn’t just watched his car fold in half and catch on fire. As if we weren’t surrounded by medics and marshals shouting at us to break it up or cameras zooming in on us from every direction. As if this might be the last time—because it almost was.
His breath caught and then he kissed me back, bruised and broken and somehow fuckingalive. He smelled like sweat and metal and smoke, but his lips felt like salvation against mine.
When I pulled back, our foreheads touched, and he whispered something as if it was the only thing keeping him conscious. “I’m okay. Tell her I’m okay.” My brows pulled together in confusion. “You’re all I thought about. I just needed to get a message out so you’d know.” The smallest smile cracked through his pain.
Oh, my God.Tears threatened again. “I love you.”
His eyes softened, even as his body trembled. “I know. I love you too.”
I kissed his cheek, his brow, his lips again. “I’ll win for you.”
