DREAMS lando norris pt.8 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.
pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7
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It wasnât deliberate, the loss of contact. You just didnât know what to say. What were you supposed to say? âHey, Iâm choosing my career over usâ? Also, there was not even an official us. The occasional texts became less frequent, the new project at work in Madrid was super busy and Lando had a world championship to win.
So when the time came for a holiday, it was much needed. The sun was beating down, reflecting off the glistening waves as the yacht rocked gently in the open water. You stretched out on one of the sun loungers, the soft hum of conversation in the background, ice clinking in glasses, the occasional burst of laughter from Flo. It was perfectâwarm, lazy, a complete escape from the past few weeks.
You hadnât thought about him in weeks. Or at least, thatâs what you told yourself.
The vintage Louis Vuitton bikini youâd pulled from the showroom had been a last-minute choice, but it fit like a dream, the delicate monogram print hugging your curves. You felt good. Better than you had in a while.
And then you heard his voice.
Low, familiar, unmistakable.
âDidnât know I was crashing a Louis Vuitton ad.â
Your breath caught, fingers tightening around the cold glass in your hand. You turned your head slightly, heart lurching as your eyes met his.
Lando.
Standing at the edge of the deck, hands in the pockets of his swim shorts, looking irritatingly good. His tan had deepened, his hair was slightly longer, curling at the edges, and despite the sunglasses perched on his nose, you could feel his gaze dragging over you.
He wasnât supposed to be here.
Flo had said he was training. She had specifically said he wasnât coming.
You shot her a sharp look, but she only raised her drink to her lips, avoiding your gaze.
Lando pulled off his sunglasses, smirking slightly. âDidnât expect to see you here.â
You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to sit up, to pretend his presence didnât send a ripple of heat through you. âFunny. I could say the same thing.â
âChange of plans,â he said easily, glancing around. âFigured Iâd get some sun. Relax.â His eyes flicked back to you, lingering. âDidnât realize Iâd be running into old friends.â
You didnât miss the emphasis.
Something unspoken crackled in the air between you, thick and heavy. You knew everyone else could feel it too, even if they were pretending not to notice.
Flo finally spoke up, too casually. âWell, this is fun, isnât it?â
Neither of you answered.
Instead, Landoâs gaze dropped, just for a second, taking in the bikini, the way the sun cast a glow over your skin. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he dragged his eyes back up to meet yours.
âI like the bikini,â he murmured, voice just low enough that only you could hear. âVery⌠on brand.â
Your stomach twisted.
You arched a brow, feigning nonchalance. âStill repping LVâ
His lips twitched. âI see.â
You should have looked away. You should have stood up, walked inside, done somethingâbut instead, you held his gaze, the past months flashing between you.
The nights. The mornings. The way it all seemed like a dream now .
âAnyway,â he said after a beat, stretching his arms lazily over his head. âGuess Iâm staying.â His smirk deepened as he glanced back at you. âHope thatâs not a problem.â
It was. It was a huge problem.
But youâd rather die than admit that.
So you just forced a smile, ignoring the way your pulse hammered in your throat.
âNot at all.â
Landoâs smirk didnât waver. He gave you one last look before walking past.
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The next morning, the sun was already high by the time you dragged yourself onto the deck, sunglasses firmly in place, the scent of salt and sunscreen thick in the warm air. The night before had been⌠confusing. The way Lando had looked at you. But the moment had passed, and now, in the bright daylight, things felt different. Lighter. You decided to suck it up and enjoy the holiday.Â
Lando was already up, of course. He always had more energy than should be humanly possible. He sat at the back of the boat, shirtless, feet dangling over the edge, lazily tossing bits of bread into the water where small fish darted up to snatch them. When he spotted you, he grinned.
âMorning, sleeping beauty.â
You groaned, flopping onto a lounge chair. âToo early.â
âItâs noon.â
âExactly.â
Lando laughed, stretching his arms over his head. âYouâre gonna waste the day lying there?â
You peeked at him over the rim of your sunglasses. âThatâs the plan.â
âWrong answer.â
Before you had time to react, he was movingâfastâgrabbing your wrist and pulling you up before you could protest.
âLandoââ
But he was already dragging you toward the edge of the boat.
You dug your heels in. âDonât you dare.â
His only response was a wicked grin before he yanked you forward, sending you both tumbling into the sea. The Mediterranean wrapped around you in a rush, cool against your sun-heated skin, and when you surfaced, gasping, Lando was already laughing.
âYouâre so annoying.â
âYou love it.â
You splashed water at him, but he was quicker, dunking you under before you could retaliate. What followed was an all-out warâducking, splashing, shrieking as you tried to get the upper hand. At one point, he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you from escaping, spinning you in the water, both of you breathless from laughter.
It felt like old times. Like before.
By mid-afternoon, the boat was anchored near a small secluded beach, the kind with soft golden sand and bright blue water, tucked away from the more crowded tourist spots. Someone had set up a speaker, music floating through the air as the group settled in.
The hours passed in a golden haze. Swimming, racing Lando and Flo on paddle boards (and losing, much to your annoyance), attempting to play beach volleyball with little success. At one point, you sat on your towel, lazily eating slices of fresh fruit when a shadow passed over you.
Lando. Holding out a bottle of water.
âYouâre gonna get heatstroke if you donât drink something.â
You rolled your eyes but took it anyway. âYes, dad.â
He plopped down beside you, arms resting loosely on his knees. For a while, you just sat in comfortable silence, watching the waves roll in. Then, after a moment, he nudged your foot with his.
âYou having fun?â
You glanced at him, catching the way his damp curls clung to his forehead, the relaxed tilt of his mouth, the way his skin had turned even more golden under the sun.
âYeah,â you admitted. âI am.â
His smile was softer this time, something unreadable in his expression. âGood.â
Before you could think too much about it, someone called for a rematch of beach volleyball, and Lando was up in an instant, offering you a hand.
âCâmon, stylist. Letâs see if you can actually win this time.â
You huffed but took it anyway, letting him pull you up, your fingers brushing just slightly longer than necessary.
And for the first time in a while, everything felt easy again.
The sun hung low over the horizon, casting golden light over the water as the yacht pulled into a small cove near the shore.Â
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The night air was cooler now, a soft breeze rolling off the water as the yacht gently rocked beneath you. Laughter and music spilled from the deck where everyone was still drinking, but you needed a breakâa moment to breathe.
The small kitchen was dimly lit, a soft glow from under the cabinets the only source of light as you filled a glass with water.
And then, just as you turned, he walked in.
Lando froze for half a second in the doorway, like he hadnât expected to see you either. His eyes flickered over youâbare feet, damp hair from a swim, the bikini still clinging to your skinâand something passed through you, too quick to catch.
You swallowed hard. The space was tiny, barely enough for one person, and when he stepped forward, it forced you back against the counter.
Then, the boat rocked with the gentle pull of the waves, and the movement knocked him forward slightlyâjust enough that his body brushed against yours. The warmth of his skin, bare and sun-warmed, pressed fleetingly against your own, the contact sparking something sharp and immediate.
Neither of you moved away.
His hand came up, gripping the counter beside you, steadying himselfâor maybe steadying both of you. His breath was warm, his scent a mix of salt, sun, and cologne, something distinctly him. The boat swayed again, and this time, you felt his thigh press lightly against yours, your shoulder brushing his chest.
Your breath caught. His gaze dragged over you, slower this time.
âThis bikini,â he murmured, lips just barely tilting. âReally doing it for me.â
Your breath hitched.Â
You should say something. Anything.
But instead, you felt itâthat pull, the slow, magnetic force that had always existed between you, no matter how much you had fought it.
And now, with the boat rocking beneath you, with barely an inch left between your bodies, it was impossible to ignore.
Your body responded before your mind did, leaning in ever so slightly, the air thick with something unspoken.
And thenâ
Your hands pressed against his chest before he could get any closer. âLando, I canât.â
His jaw tensed. âWhy not?â
You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to look him in the eye. âBecause...â
His expression didnât change, but you felt the shift. A beat of silence stretched between you before he finally stepped back, nodding once, sharp.
âYouâre seeing someone?â he said, voice unreadable. You didnât deny it. âGot it.â
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WN: Hope you guys like it!! Feedback/suggestions are always welcome xx
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