Page 80 of Flat Out
“Isaidthat,” I snapped, then felt the day hit me as I tugged my hoodie off. “But of course, they don’t listen. Kimi backed me up, though. I told them if the rebound keeps pogoing through Turn 5, I’ll need a neck brace before the summer break.”
His mouth curved at that, like he wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. “Bet they loved that.”
“They ignored it, as usual,” I muttered. My hands gestured automatically as I kept talking, pacing toward the desk. “I laid out every issue we found. The bias, packers, migration. Didn’t admit to half of it, but I know I got under their skin.”
I stopped mid-sentence, because suddenly it hit me. There was a trace of lavender in the air, and candles flickered soft and golden from the bathroom. The bed was turned down, the sheets smoothed and bottles lined neatly on the nightstand.
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Lubebottles.
“Cal…” My throat tightened. “What is all this?”
Only then did his expression shift, the casual veneer cracking into something deeper, darker, so full of intent it made my knees weak. For once, he didn’t look smug or overly sure of himself. He looked… almost nervous. Vulnerable.
“Figured you’d need a reset,” he said simply, but his voice was rough, carrying more weight than the words themselves. “You’ve had a lot on your mind, and your body has taken a beating.” He paused, letting his smirk show, and I snorted. “In more than one way. But seriously, Auri, you can’t go into qualilike that. You need to recover. Rest. Relax.” He sighed. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not for a second.”
Stupidly romantic,I thought, blinking furiously as my eyes blurred. My breath hitched, and I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. My heart felt too small to hold everything I felt for him.
The tears came hot and fast, spilling before I could stop them. “No one’s ever… no one’s ever done this for me.” My voice fractured, and before he could stand, I was already crossing the room, collapsing into him, my arms winding around his shoulders. I never wanted to let go.
Nothing else in the world could touch me, touch us, when I was in the safety of his arms. Nothing else mattered or existed.
He sucked in a breath, stiffening under the pressure of my weight, and I realized too late I was pressed against his ribs. “Oh God—sorry, I’m sorry,” I babbled, trying to step back, but his arms banded around me instantly, effectively locking me in place.
“Don’t you dare let go,” he murmured into my hair, voice as fierce as it was soft.
That undid me all over again. My shoulders shook as I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, tears dampening his skin. “It’s too much,” I whispered, the words spilling like a confession.“Some days I’m drowning. Today is one of those days. I’m scared to not be with you right now, because Ialmost lost youand I’ve missed you, and my body hurts in horrible ways and I’ve just wanted your touch to take away the pain all day, distract me. But if I hurt you right now, I?—”
“Shh.” He kissed the top of my head, slow and grounding. “You won’t lose me. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”
We stayed like that for what felt like forever, both of us trembling—him from pain, me from fear—but neither of us letting go.
Finally, he shifted, easing me upright, his thumb brushing the tears from my cheeks. “Come on,” he said quietly, tugging me by the hand. “Bath first.”
Before I could argue, he led me into the bathroom, where the candles flickered against the tile and the scent of sugary lemon hung thick in the air. My breath caught again, but this time not from tears. This time it was from the overwhelming swell of being loved so completely I could hardly stand it.
Steam curled from the bath, ribbons of heat that caressed my skin as Callum reached past me to test the water. His arm brushed mine, and even that fleeting contact made goosebumps rise along my arms.
“Perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than me. Then his gaze flicked to my clip. “Let me.”
Before I could protest, his fingers slid into my hair, unclipping it with practiced ease. The claw clattered softly onto the counter, and my long strands cascaded down my back. He ran his fingers through the strands, slow and careful, tugging lightly until my scalp tingled in relief.
“You’re divine like this,” he murmured, lips brushing my jaw. “Even exhausted from the day, you undo me.”
Heat flared under my skin, a mix of desire and gratitude so sharp it nearly unspooled me. Desire pooled low and heavy in my core, and my breasts felt heavy. I hadn’t forgotten our moment in the cabana earlier, and apparently, neither had my body. “You’re ridiculous,” I teased, though the words trembled.
“Ridiculously in love with you,” he corrected, and then he turned me and pressed his mouth to mine, soft and lingering and so devastatingly gentle it made my legs wobble.
The ache in my body dulled, replaced by the warmth of him, his mouth coaxing mine open, his hands skimming my arms like he was memorizing me all over again. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’tmessy, wasn’t hungry the way we usually were. This was slow burn, molten heat laced with reverence.
By the time he pulled back, my lips felt swollen, my breath shaky. His thumb traced the corner of my mouth like he couldn’t help himself.
“Clothes off,” he whispered, but not as a command. A coax, a promise, a goddamn benediction, like he was blessing me with sin.
I obeyed, the way I always did for him, with trembling hands that slid down the zipper of my jacket, thrown over my sports bra. He helped peel it from my shoulders, knuckles ghosting over sore muscles, kissing every sliver of skin as it was revealed—my collarbone, the hollow of my throat, the slope of my shoulder. Moaning, I leaned toward him, unable to resist the magnetic pull he had on me. Each kiss was soft, devotional, and it made my pulse race harder than any rough grip ever had.
He pulled back, and I gulped. Then I finished stripping slowly, feeling his eyes trace every movement, until my clothes were a pile at my feet and I stood bare before him in the candlelight. He didn’t gawk, didn’t smirk. He just looked at me reverently, and suddenly every insecurity I’d ever had melted away.
