Page 39 of Flat Out
I reached for her hand under the table, weaving my fingers through hers and giving them a gentle squeeze. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” I added. “The first few days were rough, yeah, but the stretches and physio have helped. Once the worst of the bruising fades, I’ll be cleared to drive again.”
“How long is that, exactly?” Marco cut in, swallowing a piece of nigiri like he hadn’t just been eavesdropping the entire time. “Because if I have to spend more than one race dealing with Tobias fucking Meinhardt, I’m walking into traffic.”
“Two weeks, maybe three,” I said, brushing my thumb over Aurélie’s knuckles. “Hopefully only a couple more days of headaches, then another week for the swelling and neck strain to calm down fully. If all goes well, I’ll be back before Silverstone.”
“ThankGod,” Marco groaned. “The man uses more hairspray than my nonna. And he called the sim rig a 'video game controller' in the group chat earlier this week after Dom told him to practice the Spielberg track.”
Aurélie blinked at him, clearly torn between horror and hysterics.
Kimi muttered, “He said the same thing at Spa last year and didn’t understand why the brake bias wasn’t working. He was Luminis's reserve driver and I hated every second of him lurking in the garage.”
I snorted, but Aurélie’s fingers still trembled in mine.
“I’m fine,” I said again, looking at her and not them. “It looks worse than it is. And I’m not taking a single risk, I swear. I’ve got you, yeah?”
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue. Instead, she just nodded. Barely.
Kimi made a face. “Well. That killed the vibe.”
Aurélie turned to him, all bite and bark again. “You wanna keep your kneecaps, Kimi? Because I’m this close.” She held her fingers up to show a small gap between them. "I know how to orchestrate a crash on the track. Keep testing me. I dare you."
I couldn’t stop looking at her. Even glassy-eyed and flustered and seconds from combusting—especiallylike that—she was everything, and she’d just saved me from myself.
Marco made a gagging noise. “All night we've watched Fraser become the embodiment of the heart-eye emoji. Christ. Get a room.Pleaseput me and Kimi out of our misery.”
Aurélie stirred the straw in her water cup. “Trust me, I’m considering it. So I can set it on fire with Cal inside.”
Kimi rubbed his hands together. "Ooooh, will we get to see the make-upandbreak-up in the same night?"
She rolled her eyes. "You two are on the fast track to joining him. You guys let himtravellike this? He should be at home resting!"
"It was his idea!" Marco protested, pointing at Callum.
"You should've told him it was a bad one! You're supposed to be his best friendandteammate!"
"Well then he wouldn't have asked you to be his girlfriend during your interview and put all your doubts to rest," Kimi interjected.
Aurélie paused, then pulled her hand from mine—much to my dismay— and folded her arms across her chest. She slowly leaned against the back of the booth. "How dare you throw that in my face. I told you that in confidence."
Interesting. So shewasfeeling insecure about us.
Kimi gulped. "Wait, Aurélie?—"
"No, I think I should share one of your secrets. Like how your first kiss was, in fact, with a family member."
Silence at the table. Then Marco and I burst into laughter, uncontrollable and loud while Kimi just stared, horrified, at my girlfriend. She stared right back, smug and satisfied.
"Wait, wait. Hewhat?" Marco was gasping for air. People from a nearby table glanced over at us.
"Yeah, it was his fifth cousin. He didn't know it until after. Bet family reunions were a bit awkward after that."
"Oh my God. Incredible." Marco wiped his eyes. "Hey, Dubois, I have a question now that you seem to have recovered from your heat stroke. Is it true French girls don't wear bras?"
"Is it true Italian boys can't find the clit?" she fired back with an arched brow. I kept laughing. Jesus Christ, she was an icon.
Marco looked personally victimized. "Hey. That wasonetime?—"
"She moaned for ten minutes and you still didn't know she was faking," Kimi deadpanned.
