Page 24 of Flat Out
Thatwas the kind of spirit that made champions. And mark my words, Aurélie Dubois would be a world champion in the near future. I couldn’t fucking wait to see it happen.
In Monaco, I’d watched her struggle with loyalty to her family and believing in herself. They could never go hand in hand, because in her world–inherlife–they were two different futures. Either a family who supported her only when they could control her, or shooting for the stars because she knew what she was capable of.
Then her family cornered her inherspace, dismissed her, acted like she was a problem to be managed instead of a driver who’d earned her seat. She confessed to them the truth of how she’d stepped into Étienne’s seat after his crash, and they were disgusted by her. But she stayed strong, held her ground, and came straight to… me.
I’d been angry that night, but not enough. Not the way I should’ve been.
Even though she would be arriving in the afternoon, I still wanted to give her a dream breakfast on my balcony here, which had perfect views of the harbor. So those croissants and that roast would be waiting for her when she arrived.
I didn’t know what her favorite flowers were, but as I scrolled through the options from a revered florist near me, I paused over an elaborate bouquet of pink peonies. They were soft and feminine, like her, but in full bloom they carried this quiet kind of strength—layers upon layers protecting the heart of the flower. The edges were delicate enough to bruise if handled carelessly, but in the right hands, they opened fully, unapologetically, taking up space like they were meant to be admired.
It reminded me of the way she moved through the paddock. Grace in every step, but a spine of steel under it. The kind of beauty you had to earn the right to see up close.
By three in the morning, I was on a mission. I wanted to make my place feel like hers every time she walked through the door. Fluffy pink towels for her to wrap herself in after a shower.A silk pillowcase in the exact color of my favorite dress of hers–the one she wore in Miami and then again right here in Monte Carlo. A soft throw blanket she could curl up in on my couch, light enough to travel with if she wanted to take it on the road. Little claims on my space that said,you belong here.
Then I thought about Paris. About that flat of hers she never called home.
I switched over to the group chat with just Kimi and Marco once it was a reasonable hour.
Kimi, I need Auri’s flat address in Paris.
Kimi
That feels like a huge invasion of privacy.
So does plotting to run her off the track. Just give me the address.
Kimi
Fair enough. Sending now.
Marco
Do we even want to know why you’re asking?
Shut up.
By the time Marco and Kimi started chirping at each other about boundaries, I was filling my cart again to stock her fridge with her favorite yogurt, cheese, and fresh fruit. If she intended to travel this much for the next several days, she needed to eat properly.
I also added a handful of plush blankets to the order, and candles that smelled like cherries and champagne. Both reminded me of the way she tasted, and fuck, did I miss that.
It was obsessive. Maybe over the top. But if I couldn’t hold her right now, I could damn well make sure she felt held.
Halfway through me dragging myself around my flat to get ready to leave, the group chat lit up again.
Marco
Dubois landing in an hour. Just in case you forgot.
Kimi
You shouldn’t have reminded him. He might do something stupid like crawl to the door with flowers.
Marco
… be so fucking for real. He’s already ordered them.
They weren’t wrong. But it still didn’t feel like enough. Not for her.
