Page 5 of Overdrive (Speed Demons #1)

Theafter-partywas in full swing—music, laughter, and the kind of excitement that came from adrenaline still thrumming in veins. Drivers, engineers, and team personnel mingled in clusters, swapping stories and celebrating a successfulpre-seasonopening weekend.

But my attention wasn't on the celebrity chaos.

It was on her .

AurélieDuboisstood out like a lighthouse in the mayhem.

Her long blonde hair, which had been in braids earlier, now hung in loose waves down her back that bounced every time she moved her head.

She wore a simple light pink tank top and dark jeans, nothing eye-catching, yet she commanded attention with effortless confidence.

I told myself I wasn't watching her. That it was coincidence my eyes kept drifting in her direction. But it wasn't. She was impossible to ignore.

Jesus, she was gorgeous. Always had been, but seeing her now, in the world I'd dominated for years, was different. She belonged here. That much was clear. And yet, she sat alone at the bar, her gaze distant as she nursed a drink while I admired her from afar, just like I had for years.

“Stop the pining and go talk to her,” Marco said, appearing beside me with a fresh pint in hand. His smirk was infuriatingly knowing.

“I'm not pining,” I muttered, forcing my attention to him. Pining was a generous word for the years-long obsession I'd had over her. She had no idea just how much attention I'd been paying to her. How many times I'd stalked her socials.

Marco snorted, sipping his beer. “You've been staring at her all night.

It's embarrassing, mate. You'reCallumfucking Fraser.

You've stared down four world titles, but one blonde has you undone? Tragic. Now stop being such a pussy and go talk to the damn woman.” He said it as if he didn't have a championship title of his own.

“She's not just anyone,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them, not even acknowledging his insult.

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Exactly. She's your colleague now. And if you keep gawking like a schoolboy, everyone's going to notice.”

He was right. I knocked back the rest of my drink—burning, blurring, sharpening. The swagger that carried me on the track returned as I made my way toward her, Marco's chuckle following me like a shadow.

Aurélie'shead tilted slightly as I approached, her golden-green eyes flicking to mine with a calm curiosity. “Callum Fraser,” she greeted, her accent wrapping around my name like a challenge. The first words she'd ever spoken to me, and the fact that it was my name made it all the sweeter.

“AurélieDubois,” I replied, sliding onto the stool beside her. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She arched a delicate eyebrow. “We are colleagues now, no?”

I grinned, signaling the bartender for another round. “Fair enough. But you seem more like the ‘stay in and avoid the scene' type.”

She ran a finger around the rim of her glass. “And you seem like the ‘live for the scene' type. Am I wrong?”

“Not entirely,” I admitted, leaning casually against the bar as I faced her. “But even I need a break from time to time.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, sharp and assessing. “So, is this your break or just another opportunity to find your next conquest?”

I laughed, the sound louder than I intended. “Is that what you think of me? ”

She tilted her head, her long hair tumbling over her shoulder with the movement and brushing the bar. “I think your reputation speaks for itself.”

Ducking my head to lean closer, I was pleased to see that her eyes had a substantial amount of green in them. “And what does it say?” My voice dropped a few octaves. I didn't miss the fact that she swallowed before responding again.

“That you're charming. Smooth. And very accustomed to getting what you want.”

“Am I that predictable?” I asked, lifting a strand of her hair and tucking it behind her ear—too familiar, too soon, but I couldn't help myself.

“Painfully,” she said, but her smile betrayed her amusement. She straightened, breaking the small amount of contact between us.

“Well, I can't help how radiant you're looking tonight.”

“Just tonight?”

I chuckled softly. “Caught me there. You look radiant every time I see you.”

Her laugh was quiet, but it didn't reach her eyes. “Flattery won't get you far with me.”

“I'll keep that in mind. For the record, I'm not here to charm you.” Lies. The bartender slid a drink in front of me, and I took a sip, savoring the moment. When I turned back to her, my curiosity outweighed my usual bravado. “I'm here to get to know you. So, how's your first week inF1?”

She took a sip of her own drink, glancing around the crowded bar before answering. “Overwhelming. Incredible. Terrifying.” Her honesty caught me off guard. “But mostly? It feels like I've been waiting my whole life for this.”

I nodded. “Well, you've certainly made an impression.”

“Have I?” Her tone was light, but the hard set of her jaw said otherwise. “I thought I was just here to fill my brother's shoes.”

“That's what everyone thinks,” I said, leaning back against the bar. “But I've seen you race. You're not here because ofétienne. You're here because you're really fucking good. ”

For a moment, surprise flickered across her face, quickly replaced by a guarded expression. “I'll take that as a compliment.”

“It was,” I said, my voice softer. “But you know as well as I do, talent only gets you so far in this sport.”

“True,” she said, her lips curving into a sly smile. “But luck favors the prepared.”

I couldn't help but laugh. “And are you prepared for this?”

“More than you know.”

Something shifted in the air between us, an unspoken tension that felt like the moment before the lights went out at the start of a race. She was different from anyone I'd met in this world—sharp, self-assured, and completely immune to my usual charm. It was infuriating. And intoxicating.

“If I'm being honest, I've been curious about you for years.”

She hummed. “Curious how?”

I smirked, setting my glass down. “You're one of the only women to make it this far inmotorsport. That's impressive. And you've got talent—raw talent. It's hard not to notice.”

For the first time, her guarded expression softened. “I appreciate that,” she murmured. Her fingers continued tracing the rim of her glass—distracting in a way I didn't want to name.

Because if I did, I'd never get it out of my head.

“But let's get one thing straight,” she continued, voice smooth. “I'm not here to be anyone's distraction. I've worked too hard for that.”

“I wouldn't dream of it,” I said, my own voice low and a tad suggestive. Maybe a little dark and teasing. “But you should know, distractions go both ways.”

Her lips parted, a flicker of surprise crossing her pretty face before she quickly masked it.

Then, slow. Calculated. A tilt of her head, a half-smile that shouldn't have had my heart slamming against my sternum the way it did. “Well,” she mused, lifting her drink. “Here's to not being distracted.”

We clinked our glasses together, my eyes locked on hers like a damn lifeline. “I'll drink to that.”

Then, before I could say another word, she knocked back the last of her drink. “You're staring, Fraser,” she whispered, and I swear I stopped breathing. She was teasing me in a knowing way, like a fucking cut from a dagger, disguised as a caress.

Heat crept up my neck.

No.

No, no. This was not good.

Auréliestood, graceful as ever. She was short, but at eye level with me as I remained seated. I raised my eyebrows, not responding to her comment, simply running my tongue over my lower lip.

Which she watched. Intently. Fuck.

Instead of leaving, her fingers dragged over my shoulder, lingering, pressing just enough to sear through my shirt and straight into my fucking bloodstream, deliberate enough to send ashock wavestraight down my spine.

She leaned in close, so close I could feel the warmth of her breath against my skin.

“Thanks for the chat, Fraser,” she murmured, voice low and teasing. “But be careful. You might just end up the one distracted .” Then she stepped back, her wry grin just visible beneath the dim glow of the bar lights, a flicker of something playful in the hazel depths of her eyes.

And then, she disappeared into the crowd.

I stared after her, watching her hips sway and hair swing, my pulse hammering against my throat, my body caught in a stunned limbo between frustration and something far more dangerous. My grip tightened around my glass.

That damn woman. She had no idea what she'd just started.

Or maybe… maybe she did.

I was in trouble.

Big fucking trouble.