Page 7 of Flat Out
“Hello?”
There was a pause. Then a thick Scottish accent cut through the line like a wind rolling off the North Sea. “Och! That’s not my Callum. Who is this? Where’s my boy?”
I blinked. Right. I hadn't thought this part through. “This is Aurélie. I’m… with him. He’s resting.”
Another pause. Then a breath that sounded a little like hope. “Aurélie.Dubois?The girl who fought like hell to get to him after that horrific crash? The one he wouldn’t stop goin’ on about for months?”
Heat rushed up my neck. “Yes. That’s me.”
“Don’t youyesme,” she said, voice cracking. “Thank God. I’ve been calling. He texted once—once—saying he was fine. But you tell me the truth, lass. How bad is it?”
I shifted, curling one leg up on the bed, and lowered my voice so I wouldn’t wake him. “He’s hurting. The concussion seems bad. His ribs are bruised and he's got whiplash. I don't think he'seating much, but I prepped some meals for him. He’s resting now after I forced him to.”
“You love him?” she asked, blunt as hell. Well, now I see where he gotthatfrom.
I didn’t hesitate. “Oui.”
She sighed in relief. “Good. Because he’s a nightmare when he’s like this. But if anyone can handle him, it’s you.”
“He’s not as difficult as he thinks he is.”
She laughed quietly. “You’re already halfway to marrying him if you believe that.”
I smiled down at him, still fast asleep. “I’ll make sure he calls you when he wakes up.”
“You better. And Aurélie?”
“Oui?”
“Thank you. For loving him. For trying to get to him.”
My heart splintered. “It’s not hard to love him. It’s just painful sometimes.”
She made a soft sound that felt like a hug down the receiver. “Sounds like love to me.” Then she laughed, and it reminded me so much of his that I looked down at him with tears in my eyes. I couldn't wait for him to come back to me. "You already know what that stubborn wee shit’s like when he’s injured. Doesn't want anyone to see him suffer. Doesn’t ask for help. But he always needed someone like you.”
Wee.God, that was adorable. I remembered when he said that to me, and he sounded so fucking Scottish that my heart—and my lady parts, too—had melted. That was back when I thought we were both invincible, though.
I swallowed hard. “I needed him, too.”
His mum sniffled. “Aye, well. That makes two of us. Take care of him, love. And if he doesn’t text me back when he wakes up, I’m takin’ the next flight to Monaco and draggin’ his arse out the bed myself.”
We hung up, and I stared at the phone a second longer before setting it back on the charger.
I had less than an hour before I needed to leave. I ran to the guest room to get ready. When I emerged, I was in in clean jeans and a tight bodysuit—the last fucking thing I wanted to wear right now—a full face of makeup, and my hair blow-dried.
I dug into my bag for the little black tin I always kept tucked in the side pocket. The label had rubbed off, but the scent hit me like home. It was my family’s lavender balm, hand-whipped and packed with chamomile, arnica, and a few secrets only our family knew. We'd bottled it ourselves—one of the few Dubois formulas we never sold to the public.
I grabbed the sticky notepad from the kitchen before walking back to the bedroom. He was still asleep, snoring softly when I eased the covers down. A goofy grin spread across my face, despite the heavy feelings looming over me. I knelt beside him, careful not to jostle the mattress as I moved his hoodie off his neck. Then I twisted the lid open and dipped my fingers into the soft balm.
Working the balm into the side of his neck with slow, gentle strokes, I felt that magnetic pull to him blossoming inside me, rising into a painful yearning. His skin was warm under my touch, just like always. I could feel tension still wound tight in his muscles, the aftermath of the pain and duress he'd been put through.
He didn't want me to see him like this. My chest ached at the thought as I pressed the lavender into his skin, fighting the tears that never seemed to stop.
Only when I finished did I reach for a sticky note to scribble a message to him.
We make this at home. It’s a family secret. It'll help. Rub gently on ribs, shoulders, and neck. Twice a day, after a hot shower if you can. Don’t skip it. Let it soak in. Let me take care of you for once. I know you hate rest, but I need you whole.
– Your girl
