I turned my attention to her for a moment, taking in the way she hovered near the edge of the group, shoulders braced like she expected to be yelled at any second. Poor thing had spent the last year being turned into a brand and a symbol and a headline. I knew that look. I’d worn it.
“Rule four,” I said, eyes on her now. “No one here has to be on. Not for each other. If you need to tap out, you say so. No one guilt-trips you for going home early, or staying in, or needing time alone.”
Lucy’s shoulders dropped a centimeter. “Even if I’m the one who flew across an ocean to be here?” she asked.
“Especially then,” Aurélie said. “You’re allowed to be off-duty.”
Gratitude flickered across Lucy’s face. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I can do that.”
“Last rule,” I said. “You will witness a truly unhealthy amount of affection. You will keep your comments to a minimum.”
Marco scoffed. “Define unhealthy.”
“She has no panties on,” I admitted calmly. “How much further do you want me to go?”
A chorus of noises hit the entry at once.
“Fraser!” Ivy gasped.
“Oh myGod,” Lucy squeaked, eyes flying to Aurélie’s legs like she could see through fabric.
Kimi pinched the bridge of his nose.
Marco beamed. “This is already my favorite trip we’ve ever taken.”
Aurélie elbowed me in the ribs, eyes wide. “Cal,” she hissed, mortified and secretly, darkly amused because I could feel it sparking through her. “You are not allowed to weaponize my commando status against our guests.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have slapped my arse and run,” I murmured back. “Actions, consequences, mon amour.”
Her mouth curled, betraying her, and I had to bite back a grin. God, I loved riling her up. Loved that beneath the embarrassment and the nerves, there was always this thread of giddy, ridiculous joy when we did stupid shit together.
“To Callum’s point, if you don’t want to hear or see anything, I suggest you leave. We do not kink-shame here, and since this is our well-earned vacation, we will be doing what we want, when we want,wherewe want.”
She turned back to the others, recovering like the professional she was. “The villa only has two spare bedrooms,” she said, slipping into host mode. “You may stay in them fortonight onlyso you have time to find nearby accommodationsfor the remainder of our time here. There are fresh linens, towels, and a small sign that reminds you to drink water and use sunscreen. Pick your rooms but please, do not tear each other’s heads off.”
I chuckled and looked over at her. She glowered at our friends in a way that mademewant to wither away.
“But first—” She tipped her head toward the kitchen, her messy waves swaying. “I have pasta on the stove that I nearly died for, so I’d really appreciate it if you all pretended to be impressed.”
She said it lightly, but it landed like a stone in my chest. She wasn’t being dramatic. Between the staged crash, the blood, the miscarriage, the weeks after Silverstone where I’d thought I might lose her to the sport or the grief or both, the fact that she was standing in our kitchen alive and bossy and worrying about pasta felt like a fucking miracle.
I watched their faces as she said it. None of them knew what happened after we retreated into the French countryside. But judging by their reactions, they knew enough to not press. Ivy’s expression flickered at the word died. The way Kimi’s jaw tightened, barely noticeable unless you knew him. The way Marco’s cocky posture softened, just for a second, before he pasted on another grin. Lucy heard it too, even if she didn’t know the story. Her eyes went warm and determined.
These were our people. Flawed, loud, occasionally idiotic. But they came to our rescue before we even knew we needed it.
I let out a long breath. “Right,” I announced, clapping my hands once. “Shoes are off, rules are established, sexcation status has been disclosed. Any questions?”
“Yeah,” Marco said. “Where’s the wine?”
“In the kitchen, where civilized people congregate,” I said. “Try not to trip over your own ego on the way.”
He clutched his heart again. “He’s so mean to me,” he told Lucy. “You see this? This is bullying.”
“Pretty sure this is just… friendship,” Lucy said, lips quirking.
“Close enough,” Kimi murmured, steering them toward the kitchen. I noticed that not a single time did they get further than two feet apart.
They all moved toward the main room noisily, voices overlapping, complaints and jokes bouncing off the walls. I let them go ahead, hanging back in the entry with my fiancée for one more beat.
