Page 41 of Overdrive (Speed Demons #1)

I tried to join the celebration. Or at least, I pretended to.

Marco had returned to his usual role as the life of the party, holding court with a mix of drivers, engineers, and a few pit chasers who’d definitely flirted their way into the VIP section. The music thumped, drinks flowed, and the whole space buzzed with post-race energy.

It should’ve felt like an easy, normal. A good night, even. But it didn’t.

Aurélie was still with Kimi, her laugh floating over the music, bright and effortless. She looked fucking radiant—draped in that soft pink dress, golden under the glow of the lights, utterly untouchable. Like she belonged in another league entirely.

And she wasn’t looking at me.

I glanced away before I did something reckless. Something that made it obvious I hadn’t stopped thinking about the way she felt in my lap. About the little whimper she made when I touched her thighs. About the way her body melted against mine, wet and flushed.

Marco spotted me across the room and raised a glass with a cocky grin. He gestured for me to join. I knew I should’ve just gone back to the hotel and slept this off. Tried to forget everything that was Aurélie, but I didn’t, because apparently I was a fucking masochist now.

I crossed the space, expression schooled, dragging control around me like armor as I stepped into their circle as if I hadn’t spent the last ten minutes falling apart.

“Fraser!” Marco clapped my shoulder. “Look who decided to rejoin the group.”

“Wouldn’t want you to get lonely,” I quipped, earning a few laughs.

Kimi squinted at me, his expression both unreadable and amused. I hated that. Kimi always knew everything, saw everything. “You missed a hell of a story,” he said, gesturing toward Aurélie. “Apparently, Dubois here almost ended up in a TikTok dance-off last night.”

Aurélie rolled her eyes, though her smile stayed put. “Not almost—definitely not happening.”

Marco leaned in conspiratorially, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “That’s probably for the best. The fans are already busy dissecting every little thing you two do. Imagine what they’d do if you danced with Fraser.”

More laughter. A chorus of it. Heat crawled up my neck as I forced a smile. Across from me, Aurélie straightened slightly, her laugh just a little too loud.

“Right,” she said. “Because they need more fuel.”

"They don’t need fuel,” Marco said with a shit-eating grin, pulling out his phone.

“They’re running on fumes and still lighting shit up.

You know, like smutty fanfictions. Oh! Have you guys read Red Flagged and Red Lace ?

You two have your own goddamn multiverse now, and it's actively being written. Once a week, we get a new chapter.”

I choked on my drink. Aurélie's jaw dropped.

"You read that?" She sounded horrified. I wanted to dive headfirst over the railing of this club.

Marco snickered. "Didn't have to. Kimi read it aloud to me in Shanghai. We've been hooked since."

Shanghai. That was where Aurélie and I had gone to that café and I had teased her about the very same fanfiction that was now at the forefront of this conversation. My dick throbbed, still hard and aching for release as I thought about how real that fiction had almost become.

Kimi lifted his glass in a silent toast. "It has more plot than most Netflix originals. Who knew fictional versions of you two could have so much drama? I hope it never ends."

I stared at the floor and felt her gaze shift to me. And in the middle of it all, she blushed. My own face felt hot. I wasn't just thinking about the fanfic. I was thinking about her pinned to the wall, the way she moaned, the way she begged. Then our fight on the balcony and how hurt she'd been.

My head was a fucking mess.

"Kind of creepy," I grumbled. "If it's basically a porno but in words, don't you think it's a little odd that you're both reading about your friends having sex?" Aurélie almost dropped her glass, and I shifted so I could look at her. She wasn't as unaffected as she pretended to be.

"Nah, it's not like that. It’s a romance, it isn't just for the sex, mate. It's all about the love story," Marco defended. I arched a brow.

"He's right," Aurélie agreed, wiping her spilled drink off her thighs. I practically salivated at the idea of me licking it off her instead. "The sex is the payoff for all the plot twists and emotional carnage."

I stopped breathing, because we'd had both. And the payoff? Well, we were seconds from it in that hallway.

I smirked at her, letting her know I saw right through her bullshit. She turned away, cheeks and neck a beautiful shade of pink from the blush that I was certain ran all the way down to her pussy.

Reality had outpaced fiction—and neither of us knew what the fuck to do with that.

"Fanfictions aside, some of the videos are insane. I mean, they're really building a whole case for a real rivals-to-lovers story here." He tapped a few times before turning the screen toward the group.

Fuck. The video. The one I’d already watched ten too many times in the middle of my crisis over her Snapchats.

The slo-mo edit from media day. The smirk. The eye contact. My hand on her back. Me leaning in like I couldn’t help myself, like I was hers—and I fucking wanted to be.

Groans. Gasps. Teasing. The group was loving it.

I wanted to barge back outside and throw the fucking phone off the balcony.

We should’ve never exchanged Snapchat information a few weeks ago; it clearly had opened a door we could no longer keep closed. And all because I asked her to send me a picture of the views from her flat in Paris, but was tired of messaging her through Instagram.

“Jesus,” I muttered, dragging a hand over my face like I could wipe the entire situation out of existence. It was pure torture.

Aurélie tilted her head, golden hair tumbling over her shoulder. “You’re really tracking all of this, Marco?”

Marco shrugged, all innocence. “It’s practically its own series now. That one already passed half a million likes.”

Everyone was watching the clip again. I tried to focus on the music, the glass in my hand, anything, but my focus betrayed me.

It went to her. Again.

She wasn’t laughing or looking at me. Her attention had drifted back to Kimi. She smiled at something he said, leaning in.

Something dark and ugly twisted in my gut.

Marco leaned toward me, his voice low enough to stay between us. “Mate, you two could power a fucking grid with that tension.”

I didn’t answer, because I could still feel her, even now.

The feel of her body flush against mine.

The slick heat of her around my fingers.

Her breathless, “ Callum, yes .” Her French slip-ups that branded themselves in my brain.

She’d been seconds from coming. I’d been seconds from losing everything, and now I was losing her anyway.

I could barely breathe. It was all pressing in—the walls, the music, the heat of too many bodies in one space. I wanted to crawl out of my own skin.

Anxiety. It was anxiety. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Because I was losing control?—

“Not now,” I said tightly, wrenching my gaze away.

Marco’s didn’t falter. “You know I’m right. If you keep this up, the whole paddock is going to figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” I bit out, pushing to my feet.

My friend just grinned, stepping back into the group as if I wasn’t seconds from coming undone. I turned away before I could fuck everything up.

At the bar, I ordered a drink and downed it before the bartender could blink. It didn’t help. Nothing did. I gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles bone white, willing the tension to leave my body.

When the fuck did this stop being about racing?

My head spun. I squeezed my eyes shut, dragging in a slow breath. It didn’t work, because my body was still searching for her. Still on edge from that pull between us, that need.

My lids flicked open, and I turned my head.

She was across the room, watching me. Just for a second, but long enough to feel it in my spine.

Then she looked away and said something to Kimi.

They fucking laughed again, like none of this meant a goddamn thing to her.

Completely fucking unbothered by the events of the night.

Kimi caught me staring and dipped his chin, as if he knew my internal battle. Then he leaned away from Aurélie, almost giving her space. Maybe to show me that he wasn't into her that way.

Something in me cracked straight down the middle. A hot, throbbing wound I couldn’t touch, couldn’t name. I exhaled sharply, dragging my hands through my hair, fighting off the irrational, unbearable feeling curling inside me.

The good news, though? All the alcohol finally hit. The bad news? It couldn’t touch the part of me that still felt her everywhere.