Mad Woman

Mad Woman

A/N: This part is a bit shorter than the others, but we're starting to really get to the good stuff! I hope you enjoy! Also feel like I manifested that Carlos/Daniel drama. 😬 Thank you as always, @haterpenny. Also gif credit to @f1errari ❤️

Words: 3.5K

Part One, Champagne Problems

Part Two, I Knew You Were Trouble

Part Three, It's Nice To Have A Friend

Warnings: Swearing? More idiots being idiots? Drinking, some references to smut.

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You awoke with Seb’s words ringing in your ears. It was race day, and you were going to win. You visualized yourself on the podium, hoisting that trophy over your head, the determination coursing through your veins once more. 

You and Daniel went for breakfast, and you were likely terrible company as you were too focused on securing victory. Daniel nudged you in your side, trying to coax a smile out of you. 

“Oh, I know that look. Trouble’s coming.” He teased, succeeding in making you smile. 

“I’m just focused. That’s all.” You said innocently. 

“No, no. It’s good to see a fire in your belly.” Daniel told you, shooting a wink your way. 

“You better stay out of my way. That’s all I’m going to say.” You replied cheekily, finishing off your omelet. 

“This have anything to do with Ferrari at the front of the grid?” Daniel asked with raised brows. 

“Nope. Just about taking what’s mine.” You said rather matter-of-factly. He laughed a little at that. 

“Then I can’t wait to celebrate.” He said, his voice lower in an effort to keep the sentiment private. It was your turn to nudge him. 

“Hope you’re ready to spend the night on your knees.” You replied confidently. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” 

You made your way down pit lane, bobbing and weaving past mechanics and other drivers, until you heard your name called from behind you. You turned and caught sight of Martin Brundle awkwardly clamoring after you, spry cameraman in tow. Grid walk interviews were so chaotic and uncomfortable, you usually tried to avoid them at all cost.

“Y/N, quick word?” You put a smile on and nodded. How could you possibly say no? 

“How are you feeling today?” It was a simple enough question, which you appreciated. 

“I’m feeling good. We’ve had a great weekend so far, the car has been tremendous, our team has worked really hard. We’re ready for a podium- if we’re lucky, maybe a 1, 2!” You replied enthusiastically. 

“Brilliant. You’ve been absolutely flying this weekend. Any concerns with the reliability issues the team has faced in the past?” Brundle questioned, making your smile falter just the slightest. 

“Our engineers have worked tirelessly to give us the best possible car. We’ve improved so much in the last three years- to be fighting for the constructors is a huge accomplishment, and that’s what we’re focused on. Checo is a brilliant teammate and I just feel very lucky to be where I am.” You concluded with yet another nod.

“Not just fighting for the constructors. How do you feel about possibly making history as the first female world driver’s champion?” Martin asked, pointing his microphone back at you. 

“Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” You asked mischievously. 

“Of course, I’m going to do everything I absolutely can to make it happen. I’ll let my performance speak for itself, and there’s still a long season ahead.” You finished, hoping you didn’t sound cocky, just self-assured. 

“Best of luck to you today. We hope to see history being made this season.”

“So do I. Thank you so much.” You said, turning sharply on your heel and continuing your journey to the first spot on the grid. 

You climbed into your chassi and exhaled deeply. You slipped on your balaclava and accepted your helmet from your trainer, pulling it on and trying to quiet the butterflies fluttering around in your chest. 

You glanced in your mirror, and caught sight of Carlos climbing into his car right behind you. You shook your head minutely, hoping to clear any thought of him from your mind. You thought about your dinner with Seb and replayed his words in your mind. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for. You pictured crossing that finish line, finding Seb in the crowd and throwing your arms around him. The first few races without him this season simply hadn’t been the same. Your very first race win ever- you practically tackled him. It was a moment you thought of frequently- and you were hoping to relive it. 

It was time for the formation lap, the various technicians and engineers swarming back to their own garages. 

You took off and weaved back and forth, desperate to keep temperature in your tires. You completed the three mile track, and settled back in the pole position, fluttering your fingers over the steering wheel nervously. Finally, after what felt like an agonizingly long amount of time, the red lights began to flash. And then you could almost hear Crofty yelling “It’s lights out and away we go!” You sped away from the grid and got off well, reaching the first chicane well before Lewis. You glanced in your rearview, seeing the red of Carlos’ Ferrari between the black colored Mercedes. You ignored them and turned back to the open road and focused on putting more distance between yourself and the others. You were pleased to see that Carlos was far closer to Lewis than anyone would have anticipated, and that would surely wreak havoc on their tires. The laps began to fly by, and things remained fairly uneventful until lap 22 when you heard your engineer's voice “Yellow flag, yellow flag. Stroll spun in sector 2. Hold position.” 

“Box?” You asked, knowing the pit lane entry was quickly approaching, and Aston Martin’s misfortune may just work in your favor.

“Box, box.” He agreed, and you were grateful. You pulled into the pit lane and slowed your roll before pulling into your ready and waiting pit crew. It felt like a quick stop, likely under three seconds, and you were back out and on your way, eyeing the myriad of cars pitting behind you. 

“Mercedes has stayed out. Lewis is in P1.” You felt a grin creep onto your lips. You couldn’t fathom any reason he wouldn’t box. Under the safety car you caught up to him, weaving about a car length or so behind him. You were convinced that once the yellow flag was lifted you would be able to outdrive Hamilton on your much newer tires. After half a lap the safety car had lifted, and you were already getting ready to try and overtake your rival. You gained a half a second, and pulled up beside Lewis, forcing him to take the outside line. Your newer tires certainly gave you an advantage and after you spent the next three laps gaining on him until you were within striking distance. With your DRS enabled, you blew past him on the straight. You felt euphoric, adrenaline coursing through your veins, victory surely within your grasp. All you had to do was hold your position and hold on for about forty more laps. Easy, right?

For the rest of the race you stayed quiet, focused on the task at hand. It was smooth sailing up until lap 57 when Nicholas Latifi suffered a fairly severe crash. After you were assured he was okay, a red flag was called to clear the debris off the track. You couldn’t tell if this would be a blessing in disguise or a nail in your coffin. You pulled into the pits and got some fresh tires, hoping that things would continue to work in your favor. 

You stayed seated in your car for the duration of the red flag, hoping that you would be able to stop yourself from any possible distractions. Your engineer began to read the current standings to you. 

“Of course you have pole, followed by Hamilton, Sainz, Perez,” At that point you sort of zoned out. You knew everything you needed to. 

“Alright, back to the grid.” You heard echo through your radio, sending your nerves back into overdrive. You kept your eyes straight ahead, ignoring the bit of black car in your peripheral, and the red in your rearview. You had deja vu, the track lights blinking once more before you were hurtling down the track, taking the inside line. You made the sharp turn and glanced behind you for just a moment- Lewis was gone. You looked around frantically, “Where is he?” You shouted into your radio, doing your best to keep your eyes ahead of you, Carlos’ Ferrari hot on your tail. 

“He’s gone off the track. Looks like a mechanical issue.” You were told, fighting the urge to yell triumphantly. If Hamilton got a DNF, you would be nearly equal in points. His departure from the track signaled another yellow flag, and you settled happily behind the Alfa safety car. 

“Alright, just bring it home.” You heard Christian’s voice speaking to you calmly, and you allowed your confidence to build just the slightest. Finally, the yellow flag was lifted with three laps to go. You got away well enough, and Carlos held steady in second about two seconds behind you. You rounded the final corner, and flew down the straight away, your eyes catching sight of all of the mechanics and your pit crew hanging on the fence, fists pumping triumphantly in celebration. 

“P1. P1.” Your strategist confirmed. 

“That’s a fucking podium!” You yelled, earning some laughs over the radio.

“A fucking podium!” Christian shouted in response. You pulled into the winner’s spot and stood atop your Red Bull, relishing in the cheers from the crowd. Mostly, you thought of Daniel and Sebastian- how you couldn’t wait to pull them each into a hug- maybe you could plan a mini celebration for that evening, just the three of you. The clubs were fun, but this victory felt far more personal for some reason. You hopped down and glanced around, the sea of red before you confirming that Carlos had indeed finished second. After a moment his car pulled up beside yours and Checo’s Red Bull took third. You were absolutely thrilled for the team. After a moment of receiving overjoyed slaps on the back, you were being whisked away for a quick interview before the podium. 

“Things really broke your way today, Y/N. Brilliant, clean drive. You must be thrilled.” You nodded, and smiled, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

“It’s a great day for the team. After last week- this, it’s just incredible.” You answered, your hands coming up to rest behind your neck, as you glanced around taking in the sights and sounds of another win. 

“Hamilton did not finish, that will be huge in points.” The commentator stated, as though no one else were thinking about it. 

“Well, I didn’t finish last week. I’m focusing on myself, my team. But There’s still such a long season ahead.” You replied, doing your best to not let this win lull you into some false sense of security. 

“Congratulations, you’ve earned this.” 

“Thank you.” You replied finally, nodding once more and heading up to the podium. You leapt atop that highest step once more, doing your best to focus on your colleagues rather than Carlos stepping up beside you. You turned to Checo and whispered congratulations, along with a quick half-hug.

Then the national anthems were played, and the trophies were presented. You held the trophy high, your eyes searching for the faces that meant the most to you. You were broken from your trance when you saw Checo kneeling and grabbing the champagne. You followed suit and grabbed yours, shaking it harshly at your teammate and your mechanic that had joined you to accept the constructor’s trophy. You completely avoided Carlos, determined to soak up all of the happiness that you could in that moment. You were completely soaked, hair and coveralls dripping as you posed for photos with your teammate. He smacked you on the back and you told him he had driven an incredible race. After the photo op, you turned swiftly and left to get back to your drivers room, dry off, and find Seb. You wandered down the hall, first prize still tightly held in your grasp when you heard your name. Your first thought was maybe Daniel had tracked you down and you turned to face him- your smile falling when you saw Carlos instead. 

“Sorry, I’m busy.” You replied shortly before continuing on to your room. He didn’t seem deterred and started a light jog to catch up with you. 

“Come on, just talk to me.” He pleaded as you pushed the door to your room open. You flashed a fake smile. 

“Talk to you? I did. I told you things that I never should have. I won’t make that mistake again, don’t worry.” You said, moving to shut the door in his face. He threw his arm up and caught it. 

“I can’t keep doing this.” He told you, pushing the door open the rest of the way. You took a step back, allowing him to enter and he shut it behind himself, in hopes that no one would overhear your conversation. You paused and thought for a moment before deciding you may as well get this confrontation over with. 

“I don’t know what there is to say. I let myself get distracted and I’m here to do my job. I’m here to win, and that’s it. Everything else is background noise.” You told him what you’d been trying to convince yourself for weeks. His lips parted, eyebrows furrowed as he considered the venom in your tone. 

“This isn’t about racing-“

“Yes it is. Of course it is. Is that why you spent time with me? Because I’m a real threat now?” You asked, feeling your chest tighten with anger you didn’t know you had. 

“It’s about Daniel!” He nearly shouted in response. You weren’t expecting that. You recoiled, a look of confusion falling over your features. 

“What about Daniel?” You asked, nearly seething with anger. 

“You’re in a relationship. I saw his text. That’s why I didn’t meet you for breakfast.”

“So you were spying on me?” Carlos clenched his jaw. 

“No, I wasn’t. It vibrated, I went to put it on your nightstand. You’re the one that said you weren’t in a relationship!” He reminded, as if he were trying to deflect the blame back to you. 

“I’m not! Fuck, Carlos, I’m not dating Daniel. We just… We hook up sometimes. We’re not dating.” You did your best to explain the situation, but it never seemed like anyone’s business but your own. 

“And you should have just asked me,” You added, the annoyance still clear in your tone. Carlos licked his lips. 

“You’re not together?” He repeated, almost to himself. 

“No, we’re not together.” You confirmed. 

In a split second, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, pressing his lips to yours. He kissed you passionately, one hand on the small of your back, holding you against him, the other caressing your cheek. He tasted like champagne, and you ran your fingers through his damp hair that you had always wanted to touch. Kissing him felt so right, like you didn’t know how you hadn’t been doing it all this time. Still, you were sick of feeling like a passenger in your- relationship, or whatever it was. You quieted the lust fluttering around in your chest and pulled yourself away from him. 

“Carlos, I don’t- I don’t understand-” 

“Mi corazon,” He muttered in that gorgeous voice of his, a bit ragged with what seemed like desire to you. His eyes focused on yours, then darted down to your lips. Hearing him speak Spanish made you want to rip his race suit off.

“I’ve had feelings for you for… a long time now. I just… couldn’t figure out how to tell you. And you’re always with Dan. And when I came by your room last night," His voice started to trail and he avoided your gaze for a moment, almost as though embarrassed.

You furrowed your brow in confusion.

"What do you mean? You didn't come by my room last night." You replied, mostly out of confusion rather than disbelief.

"Yes, I did. I wanted to talk. I wanted to tell you how I felt." Suddenly, you remembered the knock you had heard at the door- the one Daniel claimed belonged to room service. Your chest tightened at the revelation. Why would he lie to you? You trusted Daniel with everything, always. You had never had any reason to doubt him in the past, but maybe this wasn't the first time he had lied. Was he intimidated by Carlos, or maybe jealous at the thought of having to share you? Your mind was working overtime, questioning Daniel's motives and fearing that maybe you weren't as close as you thought you were.

Carlos broke your train of thought and reached down, taking your hand in his. You decided to push all of your concerns about Daniel out of your mind, only for the time being.

Carlos' fingers tilted your chin up and he was leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You couldn’t help it, all you wanted to do was take him, right there in your driver's room. You reached up and pulled him back into you, his kisses getting increasingly addictive. You decided to take a risk and reached up for the collar on his race suit, fingers inching towards his zipper. Before you could get it too far down his chest, his hand grabbed yours once more. 

“No, no, no. We can’t do this.” His words caught you by surprise. You took a step back, your chest flushing with embarrassment. 

“Oh- I just, I just thought-” You backpedaled, working very hard to avoid his gaze. 

“No, no, Y/N, I want this- God, do I want this. But not here. Let me take you out tonight. Let me do this right.” Carlos said, his eyes looking into yours pleadingly. Was he asking you on an actual date? What did that mean exactly? For your image in the media, for your friendship with Daniel? You pursed your lips before nodding in agreement despite your many concerns. 

“Okay. Yes. I would like that.” You were smiling, almost sheepishly, like you hadn’t just tried to undress him. Just then, you heard a light knock on your door. You stepped away from Carlos and glanced between him and whoever was on the other side of the door. 

“Should probably get that.” You said, earning a slight nod from him in response. You were worried that perhaps it was Daniel on the other side, holding more champagne, ready to spend the night ravishing you as he often did after a race win. You were relieved when it turned out to be Sebastian, his hair looking a bit wild, a big smile on his face. 

“You did it! I told you, you should listen to me more.” He was already rambling, pulling you into a celebratory hug. Before you had the opportunity to respond, he caught sight of the Ferrari driver standing behind you. From the look of relief on Carlos’ features, you assumed he thought it was going to be Daniel too. 

“Am I interrupting?” Seb asked, an accusatory finger gesturing between you and Carlos. 

“No, not at all. Carlos just came by to congratulate me.” You replied smoothly, Carlos agreeing with a nod of his head. 

“I’m sure he did. Congratulations to you too, Carlos.” Carlos accepted the compliment with a smile and shifted his gaze between you and Seb once more. 

“Well, I should be going.” Carlos said, as it looked like Seb was making no effort to leave. You appreciated that Carlos didn’t mention your date, but from Seb’s knowing look, you could tell he knew something was going on. 

“Yeah, talk later.” You responded simply, and then he was gone. 

“I see you’re taking my advice seriously.” Seb said, a smirk falling over his features. 

“I won, didn’t I?” You replied, happy to return his sass. 

“You did. And listen, Carlos is a great guy. If you want to go for it, you should.” For whatever reason, hearing Seb give you his ‘blessing’ made you feel a little bit better. Things with Carlos felt… real. There was something different between the two of you, and you were acutely aware of it. 

“I’ve worked too hard to be here, and I won’t let myself be distracted.” You told him, although you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. 

“I know, you’ve always taken this very seriously. And now-” Suddenly the door to your driver's room was flying open, and Daniel came bursting in, holding a bottle of champagne, his arms held high in celebration. 

“Let’s fucking go!” He yelled excitedly, just as he realized you weren’t alone. 

“Oh, hi Seb.” He cleared his throat a bit, as though that would successfully regain his composure. Sebastian flashed you a look.

“You’ve got your hands full.” He told you, slapping you lightly on the arm before making his exit. 

“What’s going on?“ Dan asked, his smile falling a little as he found himself unable to read your expression. You felt a mixture of sadness and hurt flush through you at the sight of him.

“We need to talk.” 

Part 5: This Is Me Trying

Tags: @an-ocean-blue @formulacherry @cvrsdx @vroom63 @miahelen @p10g @dr3lover @unicornshavedreams @whitetreeofhope @mishaandthebrits @loin-de-moi-meme @lily-horvitz @withyoutilltheendofthismess @teapartydreams @misswolff @lestappiebaby @gaily19 @whyishesoperfect @cutesheepstuff @fuckedupbutadorable @obeskenobes @vinvantae @vroom-vroom-bitch @dr3ln4 @justaddicted @valkryejh @alternativemadchen @sad-fridge2323 @lievesobsession @prettybiching @snowglobezz @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @perfektpasta @michaelslovechild @d0ntjudgemy50shades @f1thirsttraps @forzaferraris @thatchickwiththecamera @kat-to-the-rina @cowboydr @oyesmendes @ferrarifwendvale @avengemepercy @thebagginsofbaggend @dad-seb @lovelylila @honeybadger03 @she-shines-bright @spngi @heyitskay-21

Everything Has Changed

A/N: Gif by @khelgad -Okay everyone, sorry for the long wait, but it's here! This chapter definitely got away from me a bit and became its own beast. I was hoping to fit SO much more in but decided to ultimately break it into two separate chapters. So the next update should be coming sooner rather than later! I'll officially announce it in a day or so! As always feedback is loved and encouraged! Thank you to my love @haterpenny for all of the inspo. ❤️

Words: 6K, Warnings: Swearing, alcohol.

Masterlist here (Previous parts linked there)

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You spent the next two weeks trying to focus on training. You stupidly hoped that some distance between you and your simultaneous paramours would help, but you were no closer to making a decision than you had been the last time you saw them. 

The Miami GP was shaping up to be perhaps the most ridiculous race you had ever attended, complete with a pre-race party that you had been roped into attending. Normally you would love an opportunity to party alongside drivers and even fans, but you just weren’t in the right mindset for it. Christian had promised you would be a part of the event, which meant fake smiles and probably too many selfies to count awaited you, along with pretending that nothing was wrong. 

Things with you and Daniel had been a little awkward. He lived one floor below you in your building in Monaco, and you were constantly bumping into one another in the lobby or the elevator. When you were both home you usually spent several nights together, eating pizza, having sex, building pillow forts. Now, you hadn’t seen him in days, and the distance was starting to take a toll on you. You even missed training with him. 

So, after almost two whole weeks of avoiding one-another, you had had enough of it. You ordered Daniel’s favorite from the pizza place- two pizzas, and bought a bottle of red wine. You’re supposed to have red with Italian food, right?

You gave his door a nice knock and waited, doing your best to balance your peace offering without dropping it all over the floor. Finally he tugged it open, his features looking slightly confused to see you standing there. 

“Y/N?” You didn’t allow him to finish whatever he was going to say. 

“Hi. I hate how things have been lately, and I just wanted to come spend the night with you. Are you free?” You asked, big eyes peeking up at him hopefully. A big smile spread across his cheeks. 

“Come on in.” He grabbed the pizzas from you to lighten your load,  and pressed a kiss to your cheek before leading the way back into his place. You sauntered in and set the wine on the counter before hunting around for his corkscrew. He flipped open the box and grabbed a slice, sighing happily as he bit into it. 

“How did you know this was just what I needed?” He asked, munching away as he watched you struggle to get the cork free. 

“You’re breaking my heart, kid. You should be able to open wine by yourself. What else have I been teaching you?” He feigned annoyance, swiping the bottle from you and popping the top with ease. 

“Or you’ve just made me dependent on you for alcohol.” You said, your eyes narrowing suspiciously. He waved his hand dismissively, as though that were a ridiculous notion and made you giggle. He poured you a generous glass as you started tearing into the pizza, realizing just how starved you were. 

“You excited for Miami?” You asked with a full mouth- it was Daniel, you weren’t concerned about maintaining your manners. He let out a bit of a laugh. 

“Thrilled.” He replied, only a bit sarcastically. 

“They’re having a principal parade.” You told him with raised eyebrows, raising the red to your lips. 

“Oh God, can’t wait to see that.” He laughed, reaching for another slice. The conversation gave way to silence, and you couldn’t help but think about how silent your life had felt for the last week. Still, you felt determined to not talk about your relationship. You much rather felt like pretending everything was fine. 

“How are you feeling about the car?” You asked, referring to the rocky start of Daniel’s season. You knew how frustrating it had been for him, and you knew how desperate he still was to win. 

“What are you doing?” He asked suddenly, catching you by surprise. 

“I- I just wanted to know how it was going.” You replied innocently, a piece of pie drooping sadly in your grasp.

“No, I mean what are you doing, showing up here with wine? Acting like nothing has changed?” Your felt a bit of anger flare up in your chest and you set your pizza down to give him your full attention. 

“Yeah, because I’m the one that changed everything.” You said with far more sass than was necessary. Immediately, you took your face in your hands, doing whatever you could to hide from the look that would be on Daniel’s face. 

“Danny- fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to do this.” You said, feeling absolutely defeated. Maybe you were mad at Daniel and you hadn’t even realized it. All you wanted to do was come and spend time with your friend and blow off some steam and it was quickly becoming clear that that wouldn’t be possible anymore. 

“Alright, this was a mistake. I’ll get my own flight to Miami, I’m sorry I stopped by.” You closed up one of the boxes of pizza, claiming it as your own. Daniel sputtered, but you didn’t pay him any attention as you made a swift exit. Maybe you had been naive to hope that you could spend the night with Daniel without recent events coming up. You went to the elevator and struggled to press the button, the box precariously balanced in one hand. 

You got back to your place and collapsed on your couch, feeling drained and lonely. One of your favorite parts of being in F1 was sharing the experience with Dan- now you were worried you’d lost that.

Daniel watched in confusion as you left, completely unsure of how he had so quickly lost control of the conversation. With every passing day he was more and more concerned that he was losing you, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it except sit around and hope you’d choose him. 

When he saw you he felt his heart swell in his chest, so relieved to have you near- but it quickly shifted to anxiety as he wondered if it would be the last time he’d find you at his doorstep. His first instinct was to take you in his arms and kiss you- it had been weeks since you had been together and he realized he wasn’t just hungry for sex, he was hungry for you. 

Having been alone so much the whole  week, Daniel spent most of his time thinking about your current predicament and his nerves were starting to take a toll on him. He knew that if you were going to pursue a relationship with Carlos, he wouldn’t just lose a fuck buddy. It would change the entire scope of your friendship and each interaction would have to be carefully conducted in order to avoid any possible scandal. His touch could never linger, his eyes would have to move away from yours despite his deepest desire to hold your gaze. Daniel wasn’t prepared to face that possibility, and seeing you so carefully avoid your current situation made him worry that your heart had already chosen Carlos. 

He fell back onto his couch, a slight groan rumbling in his chest. If he could have just been patient, maybe you would still be sitting across from him. Maybe he could have made you laugh- your nose wrinkling in that way he loved. Maybe he could have touched you- kissed you, to remind you how right it felt. 

Instead he wondered if Carlos had been kissing you. Could he make you feel as good as Daniel knew he could? Suddenly he was desperate to get the image of you and the Spaniard out of his mind. He grabbed his phone and shot you a message. 

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You ate the rest of your pizza while wallowing in self-pity. You wracked your brain, trying to decide how the hell you were supposed to pass the time by yourself in your flat. You weren’t used to being alone so much, there was often such a flurry of activity around you that you had become accustomed to it. 

Your phone dinged. 

Big Dick Ricc: I’m sorry 

Y/N: I know. So am I.

You replied, tossing your phone aside. You had nothing to say and assumed that was as good of a reply as any. You laid back on your couch and stared at the ceiling, wondering what you could do to distract yourself. You considered asking Lando if you could join one of his streams, or you thought about messaging Charles to ask him to meet you for a drink. 

Instead, you decided to eat pizza until you physically couldn’t anymore, and in your guilt you scheduled an extra session with your trainer. 

The bits of the track you had seen looked interesting, but the whole affair was certainly over the top and ridiculous. Still, you were excited. You hadn’t gotten to experience many ’brand new’ tracks, and getting to christen one felt significant to you. You were planning to stick around Miami for a bit after the race to enjoy some rare down time before getting ready to head to Barcelona. 

Your phone buzzed with a message from Carlos. 

You had been texting and shared a few video chats throughout the week and you did your best to refrain from speaking about your ‘almost’ relationship. He had, however, asked you to join him and Lando for a round of golf once you arrived in Florida. You warned that you were not a golfer and told him you would surely ruin their good time. Still, he insisted, and you accepted the invitation. 

Carlos: Enjoying your night? 

You pursed your lips in thought, wiping the back of your hand over your tired, misty eyes. 

Y/N: I’d enjoy it more if you were here.

You replied, thinking about just how much you meant it. Ever since he managed to confess his feelings for you things had been easy and comfortable. You avoided speaking about anything too serious, and he respected whatever space you sometimes needed. 

Carlos: I’ll catch a flight 

Carlos: Don’t tempt me 

You smiled at that. Part of you had actually considered inviting him to stay with you for a few nights. It was a short flight, and you had the time- apart from some training and simulator work. However the prospect of embarking on a sex life with him made you nervous. Crossing that line would not be easy to come back from and if he was sleeping beside you your resolve would chip away until you were on your knees for him. 

Y/N: You know I love to tempt you

You shot back, a little grin creeping across your cheeks at the flirtatiousness of it all. You texted a bit more before he said something you weren’t quite expecting. 

Carlos: How are things with Daniel? 

You froze at the words, your mind racing anxiously just from reading his name. 

Another text quickly followed. 

Carlos: You don’t have to talk about it

You just stared at the messages for a moment, hoping the perfect reply would pop into your head. You figured you may as well  be honest as there really was nothing happening between you and Daniel. 

Y/N: He keeps his distance. 

Y/N: Haven’t seen each other much. 

All you wanted to do was open the emotional floodgates and tell Carlos about how isolated you felt. Having Daniel so far away was a strange and new feeling, and it was something you were worried you would have to get used to. 

Carlos: I’m sorry, I know you’re close. 

Was Carlos actually sorry? Or did the distance between you and Daniel make him feel more secure? You decided not to question his motives and chalk it up to genuine concern. 

Carlos: I can’t wait to see you. 

You felt tense when the words flashed across your screen. Mostly because you were excited to see him too. 

You continued to send each other messages while you packed. You had  reached out to accommodations and asked to be on a different flight, claiming you wanted to get to the track earlier, so you were going to leave the next morning. It was a twelve hour flight, and you didn’t want to spend it avoiding eye contact with Daniel. Your hand hovered over your TRBL X DR3 hoodie as you considered whether or not to take it. You threw it in your carry-on. 

You woke up that next morning rearing and ready to go, hoping that the sooner you left Monaco the sooner you could leave your problems behind. You had a few last minute decisions to make, like deciding which design to go with for your special helmet. 

You climbed onto the jet and plopped into your seat, immediately getting yourself as cozy as you could without the use of Daniel’s comfy shoulder. Then you had your iPad out and began analyzing the track and watching back some of your sim work to be as prepared as possible. Just as you began to feel reality slipping away from you, your phone buzzed. 

Big Dick Ricc: Last night should have been different. 

You didn’t know what to say. It was your own fault for trying to set boundaries with Dan, and then immediately abandoning them. You knew he must be confused, but to be fair, so were you. 

Big Dick Ricc: I fucking miss you

You could almost hear the words leaving his lips. The hurt look he had given you the previous night was still fresh in your mind. You threw your head back in frustration before finally responding. 

Y/N: I miss you. And I’m sorry about last night. 

You were effectively ruined for the rest of the flight. You had no idea what the hell you were going to do, so you ordered a glass of wine and started writing your feelings down. You thought perhaps getting them out of you and onto paper would help you see things more clearly. It didn’t. 

You finally arrived in Miami feeling truly exhausted and jet lagged after such a long trip. Another weekend, another hotel room. You got settled in and climbed into the big, fluffy bed while you awaited the arrival of your room service. It was Monday night- and your golf date with Carlos was the next morning. 

You couldn’t help but imagine what you’d be doing if you were with Daniel. Surely he’d be forcing you to watch Ace Ventura as he had brought it up every five minutes since they announced the Miami GP. You decided to put it on anyway. 

Once you truly couldn’t take the silence of your own company anymore you actually chose to go for a run. You kept a cap on (not a Red Bull one) and AirPods in, doing your best to look like any other casual jogger, hoping to remain unrecognized. Which was a bit difficult with posters of you and the other driver’s faces plastered all over town. Still, you were able to get a solid workout in before heading back to your room. 

You spent the rest of the evening just trying to get time to pass, studying the circuit and working on reaction drills before getting ready for bed early. You were meeting Carlos and Lando the next morning at 9 am, and you were a bit nervous. You didn’t know anything about golf and you were sure to be criticized relentlessly by Lando for it. Usually you would just bring Daniel along, but something told you that probably wouldn’t be the best idea. 

The next morning, Carlos was at your door right on time. He looked so cute, dressed in some shorts and a light blue polo- maybe golf wouldn’t be so bad. You’d opted to wear a little tennis skirt you had found in the bottom of your dresser back home and a white collared top. You always saw Albon’s girlfriend in things like that, so it seemed good enough for you. Before you could say anything he was leaning forward and pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks in greeting. You chuckled and tried to play off how much it had flustered you. 

“It’s good to see you.” You told him- your voice sounding almost a bit shy and unlike your own. 

“It’s good to see you too. I’ve been looking forward to this.” He admitted, leading you down the hallway and back towards the lobby. 

“I am going to be very bad at this.” You told him, trying to hide your nerves with a bit of a chuckle. 

“Good,” He replied casually, making you furrow your brow in confusion. 

“You can’t be good at everything.” He said teasingly. You laughed at that, struggling to think of something you were good at beyond motorsport. Soon you were in his Ferrari heading to a golf course so fancy you didn’t even know how to pronounce it. 

There were many times you routinely felt out of place among your colleagues- this was one of those times. 

You went to rent the golf cart- which you were hoping to drive- when you bumped into Lando. 

“Y/N,” He greeted. 

“Muppet.” You responded with a nod, bringing a grin to his lips. You and Lando had basically perfected brother/sister banter at this point.    

“You ready to lose?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in challenge. As much as you hated losing- and especially to Lando- you couldn’t deny that he was right. 

“Oh I expect to lose miserably. I can’t even play putt putt.” You told him. 

“Right. And why did you bring her?” He asked, shifting his gaze to Carlos who simply rolled his eyes in response. 

“I know it’s not to make you look good, because I’m going to destroy you.” Lando continued on. 

Thankfully the attendant was back pulling up in the cart before Carlos had the chance to reply. 

The three of you climbed in, Carlos squished between you and Lando. The weather was surprisingly pleasant for May in Miami, and the course was littered with trees that offered some much needed shade. 

You drove out to the first hole while discussing what you had all been doing for the last week.

Once you arrived, Lando wasted no time hopping out and rummaging through his clubs, looking to find just the right one. 

You turned your eyes to Carlos and watched as he did more of the same before finally muttering “perfect” and removing the club from the bag. 

“I hope you know I have literally no idea what I am doing.” You warned, slightly alarmed at the amount of focus you already saw the two former teammates showing. 

“I know, I’ll help you.” He told you happily with a slight shrug. Lando decided it would be best if he went first, so he grabbed a ball and a tee and stuck it down in the immaculate green. You watched as he considered the distance and the wind before finally taking a satisfying whack at the little ball. You watched, admittedly a bit impressed as the ball sailed on towards the first hole. You tried to take note of his stance, but his movement was so fluid and quick that it was basically a blur to you. Then Carlos was shooing you to go next. 

You tried to mimic the pose you had just seen Lando in- legs shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, hands- overlapping? No, that didn’t seem quite right. 

You could feel their eyes on you as you struggled to get the positioning right and it made you feel a bit silly. Before you could ask for help, Carlos was standing beside you, his hands reaching for yours. 

“May I?” He asked. You nodded. He took your hands and guided them along the grip of the club, his touch giving you a bit of a chill even in the Miami heat. 

“You want to keep your grip there.” He instructed before turning and putting his hand on the small of your back, encouraging you to straighten your spine a bit. 

You swore you could hear Lando’s eyes rolling from behind you. 

Carlos guided you through the motions, showing you exactly where to start your backswing and how to swivel your hips through your downswing. 

Now you understood why he took you golfing. 

The first time, you missed. The second time- you missed. You laughed it off and returned to the pose he had taught you. Finally that third time you hit the ball and it went a good bit further than you had anticipated. Nowhere near Lando’s impeccable shot, but for your first attempt you were pleased. Carlos appeared to be as well. 

“Good! That was good!” He told you excitedly, a smile spread across his cheeks. You weren’t sure if he was humoring you or being honest, still you chose to believe him. Carlos took his turn next, a shot equally impressive to Lando’s. 

The next few holes continued on that way, with Carlos and Lando in a competitive game and you about 15 strokes behind them. Or ahead of them. You really had no idea what was going on. You couldn’t help but scoff at how seriously Lando took the whole thing- at one point he nearly lied down on the green, his body contorted into some ridiculous position as he surveyed- well, you didn’t know what. You captured the moment in a sneaky photo and posted it to your story on Instagram, tagging Lando and writing a joke about how much he looked like a praying mantis. 

At around the sixth hole some dark clouds started rolling in, but the boys didn’t seem to mind. Carlos was far too focused on ”helping your posture“ to notice. He would watch you mime your swing a time or two before clicking his tongue in disapproval and moving closer to you, his hands skimming over your form a bit longer than necessary. Finally Lando had had enough. 

“Oh, get a room.” He groaned from behind you, clearly not appreciative of the public displays of affection that Carlos seemed so comfortable with. 

“Jealous?” You asked eyebrow quirked teasingly. 

“I can’t believe I was rooting for you two.” He replied with mock disappointment. 

“I’m sure Carlos wouldn’t mind helping you with your swing too,” You offered, eyes glancing towards Carlos’ brown ones to see him smiling at you. 

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.” The Brit replied smartly, arms crossing over his chest. 

“Ignore him.” Carlos almost whispered before directing your attention back to the tee. His hands moved back to your hips, helping you sway them as you slowly acted out your swing once more. Then he took a step back and allowed you to take your shot. Although he definitely seemed keen to have his hands on you- you had to admit, the ball went much further and the motions felt much more natural. 

“See? You’re a natural.” Carlos told you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. 

You felt a blush creeping up your face but hoped you could blame it on the heat. 

“Come on, or you’re walking to the next hole.” Lando warned, having believed he’d been patient for long enough.

“You’re not very fun to play golf with.” You told him, moving out of Carlos’ grasp. He feigned being hurt, a hand to his chest as though you had wounded him. 

“I’d just like to finish before midnight.” Lando replied. Then he glanced around at the menacing skies and made a face.

“Or before the world ends. Whichever comes first.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. 

“You go on ahead.” Carlos told him, waving his hand to convince his friend. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough golf for one day.” You agreed with a nod. With a slight shrug, Lando was off, speeding onto the next hole, yelling that he would catch up with you later. 

You turned to Carlos who was smiling widely, his eyes looking rather adoringly at yours. 

“What did you think?” He asked. 

“Definitely harder than it looks.” You told him, truly having a newfound respect for the sport as a whole. 

“And I think I need a drink.” You added, shooting him a little wink. Before he could respond, the floodgates finally opened, and an angry, heavy spray of rain began to fall from the sky. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, your clothes already completely soaked through. You watched the rain flatten Carlos’ hair, little droplets falling down his forehead and nose rather mesmerizingly. His smile faltered minutely as his hand came up to caress your cheek, and you gulped at the intensity. Then he was pressing his lips to yours, his arms wrapping strongly around you. You felt completely consumed by him and his touch, your hands grabbing the collar of his shirt to keep him as close to you as possible. For that one beautiful moment, you thought of nothing other than Carlos- not Daniel, not the media, not the championship. Just the way his touch made your body hum with excitement and longing. The kiss was deep and passionate, his tongue battling with yours for dominance. His fingers carefully tucked some of your wet hair behind your ear, his nose nudging against yours gently. The kiss felt like it lasted forever, but it was still over all too soon. 

The two of you glanced up at the sky, blinking back the drops that showed no sign of slowing down. He offered his hand and you accepted, and the pair of you ran under an awning attached to the clubhouse. You couldn’t help but stare at the way his drenched polo hugged his broad shoulders, or the way he ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to keep it out of his face. You closed the space between you and captured his lips in another kiss, catching him a bit by surprise. You swore you could feel him smiling against you, his hands falling onto your hips. 

“Mi corazón,” He finally spoke, his voice a bit lower than usual. You could get used to a nickname like that. You bit at the edge of your now puffy lips, eyes innocently looking up at his, as if you didn’t know the effect you had on him. 

“You drive me crazy.” He told you, his head shaking slightly, as though you couldn’t understand what he meant. 

“Yeah? And what about what you do to me?” You asked as the rain continued to pour around you. 

“I was doing just fine, then you…” You struggled to find the right words. 

“You changed everything.” You finally said. He offered a small smile as his hand reached for yours. 

“I know. I don’t want you to feel pressured. You said you need time, you can have all the time you need.” Carlos’ voice was tender but soft as he spoke. The sweetness in his gaze was enough to tug at your heartstrings. 

“I’m sorry I-” You were about to apologize for the lack of answers you had to give when he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. 

“Stop. You’ve got enough on your mind.” He moved his hands to rest on your shoulders, effectively centering you. He was right. You were grateful that neither he nor Daniel had put any pressure on you for immediate answers. They both knew the kind of stress you were under and while limbo wasn’t a fun place for them to be, they knew you had it worse. 

“Let’s get you dried off.” Carlos said, breaking you away from your thoughts. You glanced down at your all-white outfit and realized the press would have a field day seeing that your undergarments had been exposed by the rain. You were just a little embarrassed, a sheepish smile passing over your cheeks as you crossed your arms over your chest in an effort to hide the light pink bra that was suddenly very noticeable. Carlos somehow remained the perfect gentleman, leaving to duck inside the clubhouse before returning with a  couple towels for you. You thanked him and did your best to dry off, watching as the rain continued to fall. 

After a few moments, you decided you were as dry as you could get and asked Carlos if he would be interested in that drink. He agreed and followed you inside, slipping a protective arm around you. 

You ordered a Paloma and Carlos did the same. You stuck your damp hair in a messy bun and accepted the drink gratefully. 

“You excited for the party tomorrow?” Carlos asked, looking for a more neutral topic of conversation. You raised your eyebrows- either at the drink’s strength or his question- you weren’t sure. 

“Oh, I can’t wait.” You replied, just a bit sarcastically. 

“I think it’ll be fun to have everyone together. We don’t get to do that much. But I’m just anxious to get on the track.” You elaborated, earning a knowing nod in return. 

“I think it’ll be fun. Different. Might be nice to break up what we’re used to.” He said optimistically. 

“Until this championship fight is over, I’m going to be anxious. It’s almost easier when you’re not in the running.” Your brows shot up at the admission. “I mean- I don’t want to complain. This is what we all want. It’s just a lot of pressure, you know?” You tried to backtrack on the statement a little, worried you would sound insensitive complaining about your success, but Carlos seemed to understand. 

“I know. And your position is unique. But I’m rooting for you- just in case that wasn’t clear.” He told you, a bit of that perfect smile flashed your way along with a disarming wink. Carlos knew about the stress that plagued each driver- but to be the first female in F1- the first female championship contender- it was like you had the weight of your entire gender on your shoulders. A win for you would mean a win for every woman that had ever aspired to be a part of motorsports. You didn’t want to let them and all of the people that had believed in you down. 

You were grateful and let out an exhale you hadn’t realized you had been holding in. Just as you went to ask Carlos how he felt about the car this year your eyes caught sight of a very damp Lando Norris wandering up to the two of you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his droopy self, his wet shirt clinging to his lean but admittedly muscular torso. 

“Get a little wet, Norris?” You asked with a smirk. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one.” He said, nudging his head in your direction. You bit at the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying the dirty joke you wanted to make. 

“I'm heading back to the hotel if you want to come.” He said evenly. 

“Yeah, probably a good idea. I’m freezing.” You said, your clothes still mostly drenched, but hopefully a bit less see-through. 

“I can tell.” Lando replied teasingly, earning an elbow to his ribs from Carlos. Again, you crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. 

“Gimme a sec.” Norris said simply before walking off towards… you didn’t know what. You shrugged and turned back to the bar and downed the rest of your drink. 

“Is it that bad?” You asked Carlos, the idea of any photos of you in a pink bra and black panties making their way online made you shudder. 

“It’s… not great.” He replied a bit slowly, unsure if honesty or a white lie would be the better way to go. You groaned and cursed the day golf was invented. And Florida, for that matter. 

In a moment Lando reappeared, a sweatshirt draped over his arm. 

“Here.” He handed you the cozy jumper, the name of the golf course plastered across it. 

“Better than nothing, right?” You were grateful. 

“Norris, your genius is showing.” You told him while tugging it on over your head. 

“Thank you, seriously.” You added, and he nodded in return. 

Carlos closed out your tab and the three of you left. 

The former teammates were staying at a different hotel, so they dropped you off which you appreciated. You were dying to get into some dry clothes, and you assumed that a McLaren, Ferrari and Red Bull driver wandering through the lobby together wouldn’t go unnoticed. However in your current state, you were able to slip in and up to your room without any eyes lingering on you for too long. 

You changed into your pajamas and ordered up some room service as you planned to spend a quiet evening alone before the chaos of race weekend started. You devoured your pasta dinner, and headed to the bathroom to wash your face when you heard a knock at your door. You furrowed your brow in confusion and glanced through the peephole. You felt yourself tense at the sight of Daniel. You opened the door but stood firmly at the threshold. 

“Daniel? What are you doing here?” You asked, genuinely surprised to see him before you. 

“Marsali gave me your room number.” He explained. Marsali was your trainer and friend, and she knew how close you and Daniel were. 

“Ah.” You replied stupidly. 

“Look, I know things have been… weird. And I’m sorry- I hate it. But you mean too much to me to let anything come between us. I just want to spend time with you, anyway you’ll let me.” You smiled gently. 

“I miss you too, Dan. Come on in.” You told him, opening the door the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but notice his smile widen as he followed after you. You climbed into bed and grabbed the TV remote. 

“I know exactly what we’re doing.” You said, pulling up the search bar and typing in ‘Ace Ventura’. His eyes widened with excitement. 

“God, yes.” He sighed happily, settling beside you. 

You felt extra aware of how close he was, but he made sure he wasn’t touching you. You decided to break the tension for him and rested your head on his shoulder. You could feel him relax a bit and he wrapped his arm around you. The two of you relaxed and soon things felt like old times.

He laughed along, loudly quoting the most iconic lines as you pretended not to be amused. It felt so right to be back in his arms, hearing his laughs echoing around you. Soon you were tangled up, your head resting on his chest as his fingers absently carded through your hair. You couldn’t help but listen to the comforting sound of his heart thumping beneath your ear, your eyes skulking over the tattoos his short sleeves exposed. Being so close to him felt like going home, like you could finally relax. You realized you were looking at Daniel more than you were watching the movie. Before letting yourself overthink the consequences, you sat up and pressed a kiss to his lips. You could tell you had caught him by surprise, but he readily returned the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh at the feel of you. His whole demeanor changed, like he could finally breathe. His hand cupped your cheek sweetly and you could tell there was some desperation in his kiss. Like if he were to stop you may disappear. Finally, you were pulling back to breathe. 

Incredibly, he said nothing. No flirty jokes, no teasing, no smug grin. Instead you saw what looked like relief in his eyes. 

“I was worried I may never get another chance.” He said sadly, trying to hide it behind a chuckle. You didn’t know what to say. You were hoping that maybe a moment like this with Daniel would give you some clarity and help you decide which of the two men had truly captured your heart. Instead you were just as confused as ever. 

So you curled back up against his side and watched the rest of the movie, blatantly ignoring the panic bubbling up in your chest. 

The only thing you knew for sure was that you were going to have to make a decision by the end of the weekend.

Tags: @oyesmendes @cowboydr @prettybiching @ruledchaos @imaginemrvel @f1thirsttraps @ferrarifwendvale @avengemepercy @thebagginsofbaggend @d0ntjudgemy50shades @just-addicted @honeybadger03 @she-shines-bright @spngi @lovingroscoee @lestappiebaby @dad-seb @an-ocean-blue @vinvantae @forzaferraris @perfektpasta @kat-to-the-rina @ellalovesvettel @delilah-leclerc @crappystoryteller @internetgremlin-reads @chilisainz @mysticalnightenthusiast @watermel0nsugarhigh @naturastace @merrymissesmaxiel @noldcardigan @jasmindaughteroftheworld @danielricciardo3f1 @gridgirldrabbles @jeanslilslut @im-bored12345 @smoothoperator55 @lu-morningstar @miahelen @formulacherry @obeskenobes @dr3lover @lsspsunflower @dr3ln4 @sad-fridge2323 @alternativemadchen @libbyxoxo @lievesobsession @valkryejh @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @misswolff @gaily19 @whatssupeef @teapartydreams @lily-horvitz @withyoutilltheendofthismess @whitetreeofhope @unicornshavedreams @p10g @vroom63 @cvrsdx @myjourneysmuses @love-all-things-writing @mishaandthebrits @comphersjost

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the alpha tauri mechanics frantically wrapping layers of duck tape around the rear wing while yuki screams slurs as yet unheard of in the western world down the radio is the funniest shit i have ever seen this sport is not real

pancakes for dinner | cl16

in honor of our favorite monégasque's amazing weekend in straya!! the thought of soft and lovestruck charles is what keeps me up at night <3 this is 100% inspired (and ripped off) of pancakes for dinner by lizzy mcalpine

summary: charles and you are both in love, but who is going to admit it first?

notes: teeth-rotting fluff, two painfully in love idiots, confessions

“You’re finally going to tell her?”

The frenchman claps his best friend on the back, catching up to him in the paddock as they head toward hospitality.

Charles smiles nervously, “Yes, Pierre. You can get off my back about it now.”

The AlphaTauri driver laughs at the red tinge on his friends cheeks, “Mate, you’re absolutely in love with this girl.”

“Do you have to say it so loud?!” the Monégasque looks around with wide eyes.

Laughter shakes Pierre’s shoulders at his friend’s frazzled demeanor. Once he finally recovers, and Charles cheeks match his Ferrari shirt, the pair continue to stroll down the paddock

“You know, there’s no harm in admitting it,” Pierre tips his head toward his friend. “It’s obvious she loves you back.”

“If its obvious, why do we have to say it?” Charles asks incredulously. Pierre just glares at him until Charles begins again, “What if she doesn’t, though? What we have right now is so nice, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Just tell her, mate,” Pierre grins at his friend. “You won’t regret it. If you don’t tell her soon, she might not wait around for you. I’ve seen you both together, and you love her. So, tell her.”

Pierre bids his friend goodbye before heading into his team’s hospitality suite, leaving Charles alone in the paddock walkway, hands itching to reach for his phone. Pierre’s comment lingers with him through his meal and team meeting’s, and once he returns to his driver’s room to spend some time before qualifying, he reaches for his phone.

“Hello?” I answer the video call with a lazy smile, sipping from the coffee cup between my fingers.

“Good morning,” Charles grins, feeling his worries melt at the sound of my voice.

“Mm, good afternoon,” I yawn

Charles leans against the small couch in his drivers room, spreading his legs before him, “How’s work been?”

“A bit frustrating,” I admit. “Our client moved our meeting to next week, so I could’ve come out with you after all. They called us late last night about it.”

Charles groans as he tips his head back against the couch, “You’re serious? They called that late to change it?”

I sigh as I nod my head, “I could’ve made it out if they had let us know a couple days earlier. It’s too late to fly out now.”

“Ugh, I wish you could’ve made it,” the racer pouts, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his chin. HIs voice gets quiet as his cheeks glow red, “I miss having you here.”

My chest grows warm at his admission, a smile spreading across my face, “Don’t tell me I’m your good luck charm now.”

Charles laughs loudly, the sound bringing out my own giggle, “You just might be. The first two races were good with you there.”

“You’ll still be great this weekend,” I comment. “I watched free practice, and you look like you’re in a good position. The porpoising looks terrible, but you’re still quick.”

“I love when my girl talks to me about racing terms,” he smirks, a chuckle falling from his lips after his comment.

“Your girl?” I tease in an attempt to hide the blush on my cheeks.

Charles had never called me that, and our relationship isn’t exactly clearly defined. Terms of endearment is something we haven’t addressed sober yet. I called him mon beau one too many times at the bar, and he let ma meuf slip in a dazed state. Memories of his arm slung across my shoulder and my hand resting on his hip as we leave the function surface. Loving terms in our native tongue slipping from our lips between breathless kisses and lingering laughter.

“Our little secret,” he winks at the camera, dimples poking through his rose cheeks.

“More than just our secret,” I remind him. “Pierre and Carlos sure as hell know.”

“As do your friends,” he grins, raising his eyebrows mischievously. “Need I remind you about your boss?”

“Alright, that one’s your fault!” I grin as I defend myself. “You wouldn’t let go of me when we ran into her!”

Charles laughs wildly at the memory, continuing the easy conversation between us. I enjoy listening to his voice as he talks about his time in Melbourne, and my heart eases at his gentle tone. The lull to his French and breathy laughter is comforting, and my eyes start to grow heavy.

“Nap before qualifying,” he says, running fingers through his helmet hair. “You’ve still got an hour until it starts.”

I yawn again, “I’ll just make more coffee. I can’t risk missing it, Charles.”

He grins wildly at my comment, “I love knowing you watch me race.”

“I love watching you,” I respond, shamelessly checking him out over the video call.

“God, I wish you were here. I miss having you around,” he admits, rubbing a hand down his face. “I feel calm when you’re here.”

It’s the closest he can get to admitting his love. A silence lingers between us with words unsaid, and Charles eventually bids me a goodbye as someone knocks on his door. While I make another cup of coffee, Charles goes through the motions at the paddock. He mentally kicks himself for being unable to say what he had wanted—what he had promised Pierre he would tell me. The feeling grows in intensity, and it starts to manifest as nervousness for the upcoming session. In the garage, Mattia senses the driver’s anxiety and urges him to call someone he loves to give him some peace. He desperately wants to call me back, admitting what he had called in the first place to say, but at the last moment, his finger hits his mom’s contact information instead of mine. She tells him exactly what he needed to hear, ending the call with those three words he had been searching for only an hour before. As he gets ready to settle into the cockpit for qualifying, anxiety suddenly grips him. What if something were to happen and he never got to say those words to me? He suddenly climbs out of the car, muttering apologies to his engineers and team before searching for his phone. His mom’s words echo in his head, and he hesitates for only a moment before clicking my name.

“Charles?” I answer the phone call with concern in my voice.

He usually video calls unless something is more serious.

“I had to call you. I’m sorry, but I can’t get back into the car without telling you something. I-“

“Babe,” the word slips from my lips without another thought, “breathe. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I don’t want to cross that line, but just in case something happens in the car, I want you to know this.”

“You’re going to be fine in the car,” I begin. “You always are. What’s gotten into you?”

The line is silent for a moment. Charles stand against the far wall of the Ferrari garage, race suit adorning his body and car ready to go. His helmet sits next to him as he stares blankly at the garage floor, biting his lip as he grapples with what to say. He hears me begin again on the other end of the line, worry increasing in my tone.

“I want to eat pancakes for dinner,” he blurts out suddenly.

My eyebrows draw together, “What?”

His voice sounds suddenly frantic, “I’ll answer all your questions, but let me say all of this first.”

I agree quietly, eyebrows drawing together even further as I check the time. He should be in the car already. Qualifying was starting any minute.

“When I come home after a race, I want to come home to you and eat pancakes for dinner,” his voice is rushed but remains strong. “I want to pick a tv show to watch together, and watch it in bed when you get those headaches that put you down for a day. I want to be that person that you call when you’re under the weather.

I want to go out on the weekends—take you in public with me. Be proud that we’re at each other’s sides. I want to introduce you to all of my friends, not just some of them. I want you to bring me to your work functions and introduce me to your coworkers. I want to do things with you that I used to want to do alone.

I want us to get dressed in our best evening wear only to come home and take it all off. I want to get dressed up just to get undressed. You’re beautiful in anything. Hell, everything. I want to show you this.

I want to brag to my friends about you. I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want. I’m comfortable with you. I like having you in my space. When I get home from the craziness of a race weekend, I look forward to walking into my apartment and seeing you there. You’re waiting for me, dangling that spare key I gave you in between you fingers, and it feels like home. To tell you all this is terrifying, but I wish you could hear me when I talk to myself. If you could hear what’s in my head, this wouldn’t be so scary.”

“Charles,” tears have welled in my eyes at his admission, heart beating out of my chest and cheeks burning red.

The line hangs silent for a moment as fear grips me. I can hear tools whirring and chatter from the garage in the background, but the driver hangs on to the end of my words with baited breath. I could feel what he is trying to say, and despite the obvious love between us, my brain falters at the words.

“Oh, fuck it,” I whisper, heart hammering in my chest. “I love you, too.”

There is silence again, and for a moment, it feels like my knees are going to give way beneath me. Someone in the garage calls his name. In the Ferrari garage, Charles must look like a lovestruck idiot to the team around him. They bustle through the packed garage between the cars and monitors while their driver stands against the wall, mouth hanging open in a lazy smile. When someone calls his name, he suddenly snaps back to his senses and realizing he’s left me hanging on the other end.

“Babe,” he calls when he realizes the stretching silence between us, “I can’t get into that car without telling you. I love you.”

“I know you do,” I say into the phone, glancing at the television as the clock for qualifying winds down. “I’ll love you even more if you get into that car and get out there for qualifying.”

“Right,” Charles suddenly realizes the time and the bustle of the garage. “Pole position is yours.”

I roll my eyes with a laugh, “Get in the car, Charles. Good luck, and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he hurries before hanging up the phone.

He wasn’t lying when he said pole position. Charles takes pole to kickoff his grand slam weekend. Some of my friends watch the race with me, holding my hand as Charles takes off on the start and cheering when he crosses the line to drop the checkered flag. My heart bursts at the sight on the television screen, and my friends are still over when they hear my disgustingly in-love call with Charles once he exits the paddock. I hear Pierre laugh wildly in the background after Charles bids me goodbye, ending the call with another I love you. My own friends screech as they hear me return it.

Once he texts me that his plane has touched down, I rush over to his apartment with his spare key in tow. Dinner is quick to cook, and I’m turning off the stove as I hear the lock on the front door click. I lean against the counter, grinning as he swings the door open and stops dead in his tracks. His eyes have dark circles beneath them and the stubble on his jaw is darker that usual. A hat holds back his wild hair. Warmth spreads from my chest to my fingers and toes at the sigh of him.

“Congratulations, championship leader,” I smile.

“What are you doing here?” he grins, abandoning his suitcase and bag at the door to walk over to me. “It’s late, and you’ve got work tomorrow.”

I laugh as his arms wrap tightly around me, relishing in the warmth and touch I had been missing for over a week, “I wanted to see you.”

He chuckles quietly against me, sighing as his head rests between my shoulder and neck, “God, I missed you so much. I thought I was going crazy.”

He glances at the plate on the kitchen counter, gasping and looking to me with wide eyes, “You didn’t.”

“Pancakes for dinner,” I nod my head, leaning in to his lips for a moment. “After your amazing weekend, I thought you’d like them.”

“A weekend that was entirely your doing, mon amour,” he kisses me this time, a lazy smile across his tired features.

“Mon amour?” I grin. “So I’m officially stepping up from ma meuf now?”

He hums in agreement, “Even in public.”

“Lucky me,” I whisper, connecting our lips again beneath the warm kitchen lights.

We stack our plates with pancakes, sitting on the couch with our dinner. Charles puts on one of our favorite shows, picking up where we left off before he left for Australia. We eat in a comfortable silence, elbows bumping and legs brushing beneath the blanket. Charles raves about the pancakes despite being from a box mix, and I laugh when he stacks more on to his plate. Once we finish eating, he puts our plates on the coffee table before leaning back into the couch. He wraps his arms around me before flopping on to the couch, chuckling as he pulls me on top of him. Our show plays in the background as we talk about what we did in the week we were apart. I tell him all about the office and getting together with my friends for a girls weekend. He talks about the race, and the team watching him as he called me from the garage. As our conversation lulls, his eyes grow heavy. He squeezes my hand gently.

“Will you come to Imola with me?” he mutters, pushing hair back from my face.

“Of course,” I answer, chin resting on his chest to meet his eyes. “Camille can keep me company again in the grandstands.”

He shakes his head gently, “No, come with me to the garage as a guest. I want to be seen with you.”

“Like walk with you through the paddock?” my eyes are wide at his admission.

He nods, “Stand with my family in the garage, hold my mom’s hand on the opening lap, celebrate with me at the end. I want you there with me because I love you. I want everyone to know that.”

I laugh gently, squeezing his hand, “I’d love to be there, but I think the the garage already knows because they heard your entire confession over the phone.”

He smiles, “Hopefully Mattia and my trainer didn’t hear the pancakes for dinner comment. It definitely doesn’t follow my meal plan.”

“Well, it’s our little secret then,” I lean up to kiss his lips.

He smiles, leaning back into the couch pillow with closed eyes, “It sounds good to have something that’s ours, mon amour.”