Page 14 of Red Flagged
Then he dropped to one knee in front of me, andmon putain de Dieu, my heart stuttered. From the look on his face, all raw concern and quiet command, the way he knew I’d respond to that like a moth to a flame. But also from seeing him on one knee, imagining a ring in his hand, asking a question that I shouldn’t be ready to answer but most definitely was because it washim. Ugh, no. It was too soon to picture that. We’d talked about it, sure, but right now my brain was clearly doing anything it could to protect me from the reality twisting deep inside my body.
“Auri.” He said it so softly, so carefully, that I nearly burst into tears. “Are you hurt? Did this–did our plan hurt you?”
The question shot straight through the armor I’d been building since the second the first cramp hit. My throat tightened, and my vision blurred. “I’m fine,” I whispered. “We have to keep it together a little longer.”
He exhaled, eyes flicking between my face and the hand still trembling against my stomach. He dropped his helmet on the ground and then he rested his hands on my hips, throwing caution to the wind. “What are you not telling me?” The gentleness in his tone nearly broke me. It wasn’t for the cameras, wasn’t for show, wasn’t for the FIA. It was reserved for me, and only me.
Fucking hell, why did he have to know me so well? This was not the place to have this conversation. Not because he shouldn’t know—he absolutely should—but because I couldn’t do this rightnow. The emotional turmoil this would cause regardless of the direction this went… I wasn’t strong enough to deal with it in the public eye.
I didn’t know a single woman who was strong enough.
I forced a laugh, even though it cracked. “That you really need to stop making dramatic entrances mid-medical exam?”
He didn’t smile, didn’t even blink. Just waited, eyes narrowing the way they did when he was studying telemetry. “Don’t, Aurélie. Don’t deflect.”
I looked away, focusing on the zipper of his race suit that he’d only unzipped near his throat. “There’s nothing to tell,” I lied, hating how weak it sounded. “It was just—cramps. Stress, the rain, the crashes from yesterday and today.”
Callum’s gaze dropped again to my stomach and squeezed my hips.Fuck, he doesn’t believe me.“Cramps have never made you flinch like that.”
The words hit harder than the impact ever could. I wanted to tell him everything, but the timing was all wrong. The world outside was still watching. Everyone in this goddamn paddock gossiped. Cameras were everywhere.
So instead, I shook my head and forced a tired smile. “You worry too much, mon champion.”
His reply was quiet and deadly sure, landing like a vow. “Not nearly enough. Aurélie?—”
Tears spilled over. “Not now, Callum.S’il te plaît.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head. “That’s what I needed to know.”
My breath caught and my heart rate accelerated.Oh no. “What?”
“That this is more,” he said quietly, lifting his gaze again, raw and searching. “That this has to do with what we talked about this morning.”
My heart lurched, and the nausea I’d been fighting all week hit me with full force. “Callum?—”
Before I could say another word, voices erupted outside the tent. Henric’s deep tone and Dom’s clipped bark followed by a flurry of footsteps on wet gravel.
“Fraser! Dubois! You two better be explaining that circus out there!”
Callum barely had time to drop his hands from my hips before the flap flew all the way open. In a blink, he was on his feet, every trace of concern buried under his public persona, posture seemingly irritated as the world champion mask slid neatly back into place.
I scrambled for my own composure, rising beside him and swiping at my eyes with one arm as the team principals stepped in. They were still mid-argument with each other about media fallout and stewards’ penalties. My other arm wrapped protectively around my middle before I forced it back to my side. My pulse thundered, nerves suddenly haywire when earlier they’d been grounded.
Henric stormed in first, with Dom close behind, both dripping and livid. Henric stopped in front of us, eyes narrowing. “What the hell happened?”
Callum didn’t even glance at me as he stepped forward. “A racing incident,” he said smoothly, voice cool, detached, professional. “Conditions were degrading. We both pushed.”
Dom scoffed. “You both pushed? You two nearly took out half the midfield! Do you haveany ideawhat this looks like? Especially after the meeting we just had this morning?”
“She had the inside,” Callum stated. “I defended. We touched. That’s all. Happens all the time.” He folded his arms across his chest, but I saw his hands curl into fists under his biceps. It was the only sign of restraint in his muscular body. Icaught the faintest flick of his eyes toward me, protective and warning all at once.
Henric turned to me, mouth twisting with disdain. “How about Dubois speaks for herself, since she’s so keen on doing so during every other ‘racing incident’ she’s been a part of?”
The jab landed exactly how he meant it to: a slap. I felt my stomach wrench again—hot, sharp,wrong—and I forced my weight evenly onto both feet, pretending the pain wasn’t clawing its way up my spine. My vision spotted for a second, but I breathed through it.
“If you’re implying I can’t control my car, or my mouth for that matter,” I bit out evenly, “then you’re welcome to look at the data yourself. I committed to my line. That’s what we’re taught, isn’t it?”
Henric ran his tongue across his teeth and exhaled ruggedly. “What you’re taught,” he retorted slowly, “and what you’recapableof are two different things, Dubois. You’ve been reckless since Monaco, and now you’ve cost the team two cars in one weekend. Maybe next time you’ll learn to drive within your limits. If you even know where those are.”
