Page 44 of Close Contact
“I told you this would happen,” she said, her voice calm but laced with steel. “From the beginning of the season. Remember?” She winced when her physio hit a certain spot, and I almost pushed him out of the way to see if she was okay. Was that my fault? Had I pushed her too hard last night?
“You said they’d try to box you out,” I shot back. “I didn’t think you meant?—”
“What? That they’d actually do it?” She arched a brow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Sorry, Callum. Next time I’ll spell it out for you.”
I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the small space. “We’re not just talking dirty tactics, Auri. It’sdangerous. They’re targeting you because they don’t think you belong here.”
Aurélie sighed, putting out a hand at her physio. “That’s enough for now, Jules. Thank you. If you could get my suit, please. I’ll text you when I’m done here.”
Jules stood, wiping his hands on a towel before giving me a sidelong glance and slipping out of the room. I eyed him as he left the room, not liking one bit that he got to have his hands on her today.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s been with me for years. He won’t say anything,” she told me, her tone clipped as she swung her legs over the edge of the table and straightened.
I turned back to her, frowning. “Say anything about what?”
Her eyebrows shot up, and then she gave me a wry grin. “Well, between these”—she indicated the bite marks—“and youbarging in here like a man on a mission, and nowthat”—she gestured at my crotch—“you’re smart enough to put the pieces together.” When I glanced down, I saw what she meant. While I was checking her out, apparently I was half hard. Which was, unfortunately, very obvious in a tight race suit.
I groaned, my head falling back. “I can’t help it.”
Aurélie shook her head, unamused as she walked over to the couch to pick up her fireproof pants.
“You need to tell the FIA,” I murmured, my voice laden with concern.
“It won’t change anything, Cal.”
“But at least they’ll know?—”
“They will have to launch an investigation first,” she snapped, stepping into the pants and pulling them over her hips. Fuck, they hugged her so tightly it was distracting. “And chances are, they won’t find anything. Morel and the rest of them—they aren’t done. I overheard them during the first race weekend. It was the middle of the night. They’ve been covering their bases since the beginning. They won’t get caught. It’s pointless to even try.”
“They could fucking kill you!” I shouted, my emotions getting the best of me. “If something happened to you…” My chest squeezed at the thought.
“And you think I don’t know that?” Her voice rose, her own frustration breaking through. “You think I haven’t been aware of that every single day I’ve been in this sport?”
I stopped pacing, turning to face her. Her hands were braced on her hips, and damn, she looked fierce. Every bit like a competitor who was ready to fight for her spot.
“So what’s your plan?” I asked, my voice quieter but no less intense.
“My plan,” she said, stepping closer, “is to win. To hold my ground and show them that I’m not going anywhere, no matterwhat they throw at me. That’s what I’ve been doing since day one.”
There was no arrogance in her tone, no bravado. Just a quiet, unshakable determination that made me proud of her.
“D’accord,” I said finally, meeting her in her language so she knew I heard her. “I’ll be watching.”
“Good.” Her lips tipped in a faint, almost teasing smile. “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.”
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me, but the sinking feeling pressing down on me didn’t lighten. She could brush this off all she wanted, but I couldn’t shake the image of Morel’s smug grin, or the way Takeda had laughed like it was all a game, or how Schreiber and Kowalski stood there snickering.
“You need to take this seriously,” I pleaded, painfully worried for her safety and all the what-ifs. Like, what if I lost her before she was ever mine? What if she got hurt and I knew about it and didnothingto help? What if, what if,what if?
Her smile softened, and for a moment, the blaze in her eyes dimmed. “I always do, Cal.”
The nickname brought me back to reality and off the edge of the spiral. I blinked away the image of her car in the wall, crumpled, the way her brother’s had been. I reminded myself that she wasn’t Étienne. She was better than him, and I had to trust her. I shook my head as I turned to leave. Her resilience and instincts would keep her alive. I had to believe that for my sanity. She wasn’t fazed by their games, and maybe that’s what scared me the most. Her unwavering confidence in the face of danger was something I admired—and truly envied in this moment—but it didn’t make it any easier to walk away.
Her calm in my storm was one of the many reasons why I couldn’t stay away from her, and I hoped she felt the same way I did. But it was race day, and that meant we both needed to focus.We had to be rivals to the rest of the world. I just prayed that she’d heed my warning out on the track.
“Wait. Before you go.”
Her voice stopped me in my tracks, soft but commanding. My hand froze on the door handle as I turned back to face her. “Yeah?”
