Page 68 of Overdrive (Speed Demons #1)

Callumlay beside me, one arm draped across his stomach, his eyes steady on mine like he was trying to read the chaos still firing through my brain. The quiet between us wasn’t awkward—it felt earned. Like the afterglow of a win neither of us expected.

“You alright?” he murmured, voice rough like gravel worn smooth by wind.

I hesitated, pulling the sheet closer to my chest. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

He rolled onto his side, head propped on one hand, the corner of his mouth tugging up. His hair was devastatingly messy. Ugh. Why did he have to look like that? “Dangerous habit.”

I huffed a laugh before I could stop it. “You’d know.”

He grinned, but it faded quickly, replaced by a quiet curiosity. “What was it like, growing up withétienne?”

The question caught me off guard. No one had ever asked me that, not in a way that felt so genuine. My initial instinct was to deflect, but something inCallum’sexpression disarmed me. He wasn’t asking to pry—he just wanted to know.

I exhaled slowly, my fingers toying with the edge of the sheet.

“Complicated,” I said after a pause. “He was my hero. I wanted to be like him so badly. To earn his approval. To make our parents look at me the same way they looked at him.” I frowned, realizing that the recent support of my parents was a result of me stepping into the limelight afterétienne’saccident.

“But once he started racing for real, it was like I got left behind.” I paused, the memories surfacing in vivid clarity. “And then the crash happened.”

Callum’sbrows pulled together, concern flickering in those ice-blue eyes.

“I remember driving past it as it happened. The wreckage—smoke, debris, marshals sprinting across the track. I couldn’t look away.

And then the red flag…”Callumpaused. “I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

About you. I didn’t even know you then, but I remember hoping you weren’t watching, that you wouldn’t have to see that.

” He exhaled slowly. “It was bad. Everyone knew it. I didn’t think he’d survive. ”

I nodded, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak.

“Bad doesn’t even begin to cover it. Seeing him in the hospital, hooked up to all those machines…

it broke something in me. And then, as soon as he woke up from the medically-induced coma, everyone’s focus shifted back to him.

It was like the world held its breath for him, waiting, watching. And me?” I laughed bitterly.

“I was just… there. As usual. The dependable shadow. The one no one noticed until they needed something.” I rolled to my back, staring at the ceiling as the truth came out. “I hated myself for being jealous. He almost died, and I was angry because I still felt invisible.”

ButCallumdidn’t flinch at my honesty. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against mine. “That’s a hell of a lot to carry.”

I looked down at our hands, his touch comforting me. “It was. But it also pushed me. I threw myself into racing, determined to prove that I wasn’t justétienne’ssister. Andthen…” I hesitated. “Luminiscame to me.”

Callum’shead tilted slightly, his curiosity piqued. “How did that happen?”

“Henricapproached me while I was visitingétiennein the hospital. He said they’d been watching me inF2.

I’d just won the championship, and they were impressed.

They wanted me to test for a seat this season.

” I swallowed hard, the weight of that moment still heavy in my chest. “I had one day to decide if I wanted to go to post season testing and potentially take my brother’s place on the grid.

I didn’t even tell my family for weeks.”

“Why not?”

“Because I knew what it would look like,” I whispered. “Like I was cashing in on my brother’s tragic accident. I didn’t want that to be the narrative. I needed it to be mine.”

He nodded slowly. “And it is. Anyone who’s been paying attention can see that.”

His words threaded through my chest, warm and steady, tugging at the parts of me I kept buried deep.

I wanted to believe him, to let his confidence in me fill the cracks I’d spent years trying to ignore.

But the doubts were loud, relentless. What if he’s wrong?

What if everyone else is right? My throat tightened as I fought the voice that always whispered the same cruel truth: You’ll never be enough.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my voice unsteady.

Callumshifted closer, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You don’t hear that enough, do you?”

I blinked, taken aback by his sincerity. “Not really.”

“Well, get used to it,” he said, that cocky smile making a soft comeback. “Because I’m going to keep reminding you.”

The way he said it made it sound permanent. Like this wasn’t just for one night. I looked away, my fingers fiddling with the edge of the sheet. “What about you?” I asked, desperate to shift the focus. “What was it like for you growing up?”

Callumleaned back slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

“Chaotic,” he said, a bitter laugh in his throat.

“My parents couldn’t have been more different—and they hated each other for it.

My dad became obsessed with my development as a driver, whereas my mom wasn’t exactly the supportive type.

“Racing was the one thing that made sense to me, the one place where I felt in control. My dad was ruthless, pushing me harder than any coach ever could, and my mom? She couldn’t stand it.

She’d disappear for days when they fought, and I’d be left with him.

” He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening.

“I guess I threw myself into it because at least on the track, I knew the rules. I could control the outcome, the chaos. It was the only place where it didn’t feel like everything was falling apart. ”

His honesty surprised me, and I found myself wanting to know more. “And now? Does it still feel that way?”

“Sometimes,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But it’s different. The stakes are higher. The pressure’s constant. I don’t know what I’d be without the sport. And then there’s…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to his hands.

I tilted my head, studying him. “There’s what?”

Callumhesitated, his jaw tightening briefly before he met my gaze again.“And then there’s you.” His voice dropped. “You make it feel worth it again.”

I wasn’t expecting that confession.

“Callum…” I started, unsure of what I was even going to say.

He shook his head, a small, almost rueful smile playing on his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I wanted you to know.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with unspoken emotions. “Oh,” I breathed. “Thanks.” It wasn’t enough, but it was all I could give him.

He reached out, his hand finding mine again. “Anytime,Dubois.”

We sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of our conversation settling between us. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like I wasn’t carrying it all alone.