Lando is used to getting attention.

Fast cars, flashing cameras, fans screaming his name. It's all part of the job.

But nothing had ever thrown him off quite like your face showing up on his feed.

Lando was lying in bed, scrolling through Instagram while some random show played in the background.

He wasn’t really paying attention, just killing time, until suddenly, he landed on your profile.

A friend had tagged you in a post.

You weren’t posing, just smiling into the camera.

And he knew instantly. That smile? Trouble.

He tapped on your profile.

Scrolled, liked.

You in a white bikini by the pool, sun-kissed skin glowing, a lazy smile on your lips, head thrown back.

And again.

Scrolled, liked.

A picture of you with friends, all holding giant water guns. You’re wearing an orange bikini, a devilish smile tugging at your lips.

Every photo only confirmed it.

You’re exactly his type.

Stunning. Funny. Unapologetically yourself.

He kept scrolling for a few more minutes, silently wondering how he hadn’t seen you before.

You’re not famous. Not even verified. But you have that energy.

That same night, he slid into your DMs.

Lando : Okay, this might sound a bit forward, but your profile made me stop scrolling, I have to say something.

Another message underneath.

Lando : I’m not sure what’s faster. A Red Bull pit stop, me on track, or how quickly I fell for your smile.

You didn’t reply.

You saw it, smiled to yourself, but left him on read.

Two days later, another message popped up.

Lando : You know, it’s kinda rude to read and not reply. Anyway, I want two things this weekend. Pole position and to meet you. Let’s make at least one of them happen.

He tossed his phone aside, already a little annoyed with himself for trying again.

But then, you answered. Half out of curiosity, half to see if he’d keep trying.

You : Careful, Norris. I don’t do pit stops. Only finish lines. But maybe we can make both things happen.

His reply came within seconds.

Lando : Challenge accepted. I’m in Miami next week. Send me your location, I’ll send you paddock passes. ____

And now you’re here.

Miami Grand Prix. Heat, speed, celebrities everywhere and champagne in the air.

Paparazzi snapping every second.

And still, you two managed to sneak away from the chaos, up to a rooftop bar only true insiders knew about.

He’s leaning casually against the bar, eyes locked on you. A bit too charming for your own good.

“You’re even better in person." He says, his gaze running over you.

You smirk. “And you’re better at chasing than I expected.”

He leans in slightly, confidence glowing in his eyes. “Who says the chase is over?”

You roll your eyes playfully, but can’t hide your grin. “You’re such a flirt, you know that?”

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “Honestly…I thought you were going to ghost me.”

You look at him, take a sip and smile.

“And miss the chance to make an F1 driver sweat? Never.” You grin.

He laughs. “Are you planning to tease me the whole day?”