Page 17 of Overdrive (Speed Demons #1)

The roar of the crowd was deafening, vibrating the soles of my feet through my race boots as I stood atop the third step of the podium, listening to the winner's national anthem.

Callumstood tall above me, his black-and-red suit glinting in the afternoon sun, a hat clutched in one hand as he winked at me. His smile was wide and easy. The winner, as always.

On the second step wasAdrienMorel, his face stoic but his presence intense. I'd grown up watching Morel race, and now I was sharing the podium with him. It'd be sweeter if he wasn't out to plot my demise.

The reality of it all struck me like a fucking hammer, forcing my attention back to the crowd so I could bask in the moment. The fame, the excitement, the celebration.

The cameras flashed incessantly, capturing the history being made.

I stood there, the exertion of the race still heavy in my muscles—a reminder of just how hard I'd fought to earn this place.

I startedP5. Better than the last race.

Gained two positions in the opening lap thanks to a stellar reaction time and a bit of luck avoiding the chaos of Turn 1.

The midfield battles had been ruthless, with three cars retiring.

Kowalski and Takeda tag-teaming me and forcing me to defend aggressively through every sector.

Honestly, it was a miracle I was on the podium. I'd worn the tires down too fast, my grip slipping. My saving grace was thatKowalskiandTakedadid the same in their overtake attempts.

But, it wasn't just skill that brought me here.

The team's strategy—pit stop calls and timing—was flawless, positioning me perfectly to capitalize on clean air when it mattered the most.Kimi'spresence on track had helped, too, keeping pressure on the pack behind and giving me the chance to focus on my own race.

The final stretch had been the hardest. I'd gained some great pace over Kowalski and Takeda with fresh tires , but Morel made me work for every inch, forcing me to defend at speeds that pushed the car—and myself—to the limit.

By the time he created a seven-second gap between us, my tires were screaming for mercy, but I didn't falter. I refused to back the fuck down.

Crossing the line inP3wasn't just a victory for me and the team, it was a statement. I wasn't just here to make up the numbers. I wouldn't be a victim to the bullies of the grid.

The cool-down room had been brief and of little conversation, seeing as Morel hated me, andCallumhad been caught up in interviews.

So here I was on the podium for the first time ever, the moment hitting me all at once. The rookie, the first woman to ever make a podium, the one with everything to prove, and I'd done it. I deserved this.

I was handed a trophy afterCallumandAdrien, and I held it up with a grin on my face, soaking in the gravity of the moment. Then champagne was being placed in my hand byCallum, and all three of us popped the cork, shaking the bottles until they erupted into a shower.

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound caught somewhere between joy and disbelief.

Callumturned toward me, aiming his bottle directly, drenching me with a mischievous grin that made my cheeks heat.

His eyes sparkled with mischief—and something darker—as the champagne poured down my neck.

I retaliated, dousing him right back, and for a brief moment, the rivalry melted into something lighter, almost playful .

The ceremony ended and the crowd began to disperse.Callumcaught my eye as we walked off-stage, his expression softer now, almost contemplative. We were both dripping in champagne. I gave him a cheeky grin before tipping my bottle back and drinking a mouthful of the bubbly liquid.

His eyes roamed—to my lips to my throat to my eyes—and I knew he was imagining more than champagne. It took a moment to realize we'd paused before we could even leave the stage, leaving us in plain view of spectators.

Clearing my throat, I stepped onto the catwalk to head back to the pit lane to prep for post-race press interviews.

“Congratulations,Dubois,”Callumsaid, his voice low enough that only I could hear him.

“Merci, Fraser,” I replied, throwing a look over my shoulder and finding him close behind. I wasn't sure why, but that realization made my stomach flutter.

“You earned it,” he added, closing more distance between us as we stepped off the catwalk andbeelinedfor the stairs. We were both holding a trophy and a bottle of champagne, now side by side, and I was equal parts starstruck and turned on.

Adrenaline was a dangerous addiction of mine. The only way I found to adequately release it was a fun night between the sheets.

And monDieu , what I'd give to have a single night with this man.

“Try to hide your shock, Fraser,” I smirked, covering the thrum in my chest with practiced ease. But the ache growing between my thighs? Fuck. “But thank you again. Jel'apprécie.”

His lips twitched into a grin. “I like hearing you speak French.” The compliment caught me off guard. “You're full of surprises,Dubois.”