Infatuation: Book One of the Infatuation Series

Chapter Forty-Five: Pole Position vs. Pole Position

y/n's PoV:

You return to Ferrari with a million and one insecurities raging through your head. They vary from "why does he have a thing for blondes, if you're not blonde", to why did he openly explain how the fingernail thing happened - No one had to know that he went in too deep...

That was a fucking intimate moment, in which he was moaning in response, and you wanted him to fuck you even harder; How does he just casually go around, mentioning that to your brother, or God knows who else...

You sigh - Are you in over your head with a guy who's faking it? Or is he actually into you? Even if he apparently talks about your sex life publically, and you aren't blonde... Shit man.

You enter the garage just before the qualifying to wish your brother good luck. When you do so, you return to your make-shift office space - Kim is already drowning in articles that she has to rework, while Georgia asked you to do an annoying task, but you won't complain, since it will keep you busy.

Q1 starts and you start working. You turn on Frank Ocean's "Nikes", blasting it through your headphones - You quickly get lost in the mix of work and music. And before you know it Georgia returns, casually mentioning that the qualifying has been done for over an hour, and that you should take another break, before you start the last stint of your work day.

Kim is still busy, so after she declines an offer to grab some food, you head out of the office alone. This time around you'll just go to Ferrari's cafeteria to save yourself the long journey down the paddock. You hate the fact that you barely ate again; You practically had five coffee's and a small breakfast this morning, and it's four PM. You get yourself a big bowl of pasta and glance at the time. You have twenty-five minutes to eat.

The terrace is on the backside of Ferrari's motorhome. It's attached to the second part of the paddock, which loops around to the backside of all the buildings, once you've reached either end of the paddock. You sit down, enjoying your music, your food and the sunshine.

Lando's PoV:

You circle back once you see her sitting alone at her table - You jump the little fence that's separating the paddock from their terrace, and you lean against one of the chairs. She glances up in surprise, pulling out her headphones.

Lando playfully: What happened to "I don't do lunch"?

She laughs, covering her mouth, as she finishes her saucy pasta.

y/n smiles: I was hungry after all...

Lando smirks: I've noticed... Can I sit?

She nods, pulling out the chair beside her for you to sit on. You're taking that as a good sign; It's not Sunday yet, you still have some time to pull her. You want to ask her something, but she beats you to it.

y/n softly: How was your qualifying?

You lean your elbows against the table; Then she leans towards you a little, as she pauses her eating.

Lando smiles: Pretty good - P5, so I'll take it...

She smiles, and places her hand on your arm for a second.