#taa66

Every November 1st, you had come to expect the same conversation with Trent. You knew the drill: he'd announce the start of the "No Nut November" challenge with the excitement of a kid on Christmas Eve, and you would play along, feigning shock and annoyance. But this year, you felt a twinge of genuine annoyance. You had been dating for almost two years now, and you had hoped that by this point, the juvenile betting pool with his football mates would've grown old. But here you were, staring down the barrel of another month-long abstinence challenge.

Trent, ever the competitor, was undeterred by your eye roll. "This year's different," he assured you, crossing the room to give your arm a playful squeeze. "Me and the boys have upped the stakes. The winner gets bragging rights and a sweet little prize."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what's the prize this time?" you asked, already bracing yourself for the inevitable.

Trent's eyes lit up. "It's a weekend getaway to a posh spa resort. Imagine it, babe," he said, his voice full with enthusiasm. "Just you and me, no interruptions, no training, no matches."

You couldn't help but feel a spark of interest. A weekend at a spa was something you hadn't indulged in for quite some time. "And who's doing the challenge this year?" you inquired, knowing full well that you would be the one keeping Trent honest.

"Just me, Dom, Ryan, and Harvey," Trent listed off his competitors with a grin. "But it's mainly between Dom and me, to be honest."

You sighed, knowing that Dominik was going to be the toughest competition for Trent. "Alright, you know the rules," you said, trying to hide your amusement. "No funny business for the next thirty days."

Trent nodded solemnly. "I know, I know," he said, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. "But just think of the prize, love. A whole weekend of pampering and no distractions. We can finally relax."

You couldn't argue with that. "Fine, I'll hold you to it," you said with a smirk. "But if you even think about cheating..."

"Would I ever?" Trent protested, his eyes wide and innocent. You just raised an eyebrow at him, and he chuckled, admitting defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll behave."

The first week was surprisingly easy, with Trent's focus on the bet keeping him in check. The two of you spent your evenings watching movies and playing board games, your hands brushing against each other in innocent gestures that somehow seemed more intimate than your usual passionate encounters.

But as November marched on, the tension grew. You could feel it in the way Trent's eyes lingered on you, the way his touch slightly lingered. The air in the apartment thickened with unspoken desire, and you had to bite your tongue to keep from teasing him too much. You knew how much this ridiculous challenge meant to him, and you didn't want to be the one to make him stumble.

One evening, with about four days left to go, Trent came home from training with a new haircut, the fresh scent of aftershave wafting through the door before he did. You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for your dinner, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him. His hair was buzzed closer to his scalp than it had been that morning, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and the intensity in his brown eyes. Though you would deny it, you nearly dropped the knife at the sight of him.

"What do you think?" Trent asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice as he spun around to show you the full picture.

You couldn't help but stare. The clean-shaven edges of his head and the short, textured hair on top were always a favorite look of yours, but the excitement in his eyes was purely childlike. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile. "Looks good," you said, your voice a little too flat. "Very clean, babe."

Trent stepped closer, leaning against the kitchen counter, his gaze trained on your reaction. "Thanks," he said, his voice a little too casual. "Thought I'd go for a change."

You could see the challenge in his eyes, the silent dare to push the boundaries of the bet. You scoffed, trying to play it cool. "Don't get too cocky," you warned him. "You've still got a few days to go."

Trent chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "Cocky?" he repeated, his smirk growing wider at the double entendre. "Now why would you say that?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your expression neutral as you continued to prep dinner. "Because you know it's going to be hard to resist," you said, your voice low. "Especially looking like that."

Trent pushed himself off the counter and sauntered over to you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Is that so?" he murmured, his breath warm on your neck as he peered over your shoulder. His fingers danced across your waist, making your heart flutter despite your resolve to keep things PG for the next few days.

"Trent, don't," you chided, swatting his hand away, but not before you felt the electricity of his touch zipping through your body. You turned to face him, your desire shimmering in your eyes despite your stern expression. "You're making this impossible."

"Impossible?" he said with a cheeky smile, his thumb brushing the side of your face. "You know you want to." His voice was a low murmured tease that sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to maintain your composure, but the smell of his fresh shower gel and the sight of his toned arms flexing as he leaned against the counter was making it increasingly difficult. "I've been helping you remember?" you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"Ah, but what's the fun in that?" Trent whispered, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Besides, it can stay our secret?"

You knew you should be the voice of reason, but his touch was making your knees weak, and the way he looked at you with that cocky grin had your mind racing. You stepped back, trying to create some distance, but the kitchen was small, and he followed you, his hand sliding around your waist to pull you closer.

"Trent," you protested, even as she felt yourself melting into his embrace. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch, your body craving his warmth.

He kissed your neck, his lips lingering on your sensitive skin. "Come on, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "One little slip won't hurt."

Your resolve was wavering. The smell of him, the heat of his body, and the promise in his eyes were too tempting. "Trent," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can't. You'll lose the bet."

Trent leaned in closer, his mouth finding yours in a gentle but urgent kiss. "It's okay. I don't care anymore," he murmured against your lips. "I just need you."

You felt the last of your resolve crumbling. You pushed away the guilt that tried to surface. After all, it was just one time. And you had missed him, more than you would like to admit. "Fine," you whispered, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "But you better make it worth it."

With a growl of victory, Trent swept you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, leaving the chopped vegetables forgotten on the kitchen counter. He laid you gently on the bed, his hands tracing the curves of your body with a hunger that had been building for weeks. You couldn't help but feel a thrill at the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Your kisses grew more urgent, your hands more explorative. Trent peeled off your sweater, revealing your bare chest, a silent invitation that hadn't gone unnoticed. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching in his throat. Your pulse quickened, the anticipation of his touch making your skin prickle with excitement. He kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as he untied your sweats and slid them off your legs.

Trent's strong hands roamed your body, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, eliciting a gasp from you. You reached for his shirt, tugging it over his head with an eagerness that surprised you. His skin was warm and smooth, the muscles of his chest tightening under your palms.

You rolled over the bed, a tangle of limbs and passion, the intensity of your kisses matching the urgency in your movements. You felt the heat of his erection pressing against your center, and you moaned softly, your arousal growing. Trent kissed a trail down your body, his teeth grazing your skin, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

Your hands found his hair, tugging him closer as he nibbled at your skin, teasing and suckling until you were squirming beneath him. His hand slid down your stomach, his fingers finding your wetness, and you arched your back, your breath hitching in response. He chuckled darkly against your skin, knowing just how much it drove you crazy.

Trent took his time, savoring every inch of your body as if it were his first time. His touch was both gentle and demanding, leaving you gasping for more. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips when he slipped a finger inside you, stroking you in a rhythm that had your hips moving in sync. Your legs fell open wider, giving him full access as he kissed and licked his way down your body.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional sound of skin against skin. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of desire, your body responding to Trent's every touch with an urgency that had been building for weeks. You could feel the tension coiling within you, tightening with every stroke and kiss.

Trent paused, his eyes locking with yours as he reached for his shorts. Your chest heaved with anticipation, your heart racing at the thought of what was to come. He hovered over you, his gaze filled with a mix of need and love.

Without a word, he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his erection nudging at your entrance. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed in, the sensation of being filled by him almost too much to bear. He groaned, his muscles tensing as he buried himself deep inside you. The two of you moved together, your rhythm a dance you had perfected over the years you had been together. Each thrust brought a wave of pleasure that crashed over you, making your toes curl and your nails dig into the bed sheets.

Trent moaned into your ear, his voice a mix of passion and affection that sent shivers down your spine. "You feel so good," he murmured, his breath hot and ragged. You responded with moans of pleasure, your body arching to meet his as the tension grew tauter. The room was a cocoon of passion, the rest of the world outside your window forgotten in the heat of the moment.

"Baby," you whispered, your voice a soft plea as the tension coiled tighter within you. Trent's rhythm grew more urgent, his breaths shallow and ragged against your skin. The heady scent of your combined arousal filled the room, a silent testament to your shared need.

"Yeah? Tell me what you need, pretty girl," Trent's voice was strained as he moved above you, the muscles in his arms flexing with the effort to hold himself up.

Your nails raked down his back as he brought your legs up around his waist, changing the angle and driving even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt the orgasm building, the heat pooling in your core. "Please," you begged, your voice barely audible.

Trent kissed you again, his movements growing more frantic as he felt you tighten around him. He knew you were close, and the knowledge spurred him on. "Come on, baby," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "What do you need, love?"

"Harder," you gasped, your eyes wide with desire. "Please, T. Harder."

Trent complied, his strokes becoming more forceful, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. Your breathing grew ragged, and your eyes squeezed shut as the wave of pleasure built, threatening to consume you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, and you knew that with one more push, you would be over.

"Now, baby," Trent whispered, his voice a mix of command and desperation. And with one final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your orgasm ripping through your body like a storm. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you clenched around him. The intensity of your climax took you by surprise, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath.

Trent followed closely behind, his own release crashing over him like a wave. He buried his face in your neck, his breaths coming in heavy pants against your skin. You felt him pulse inside you, the sensation sending aftershocks of pleasure through your core. Your hand gently fluttered over the trimmed hair at the nape of his neck, your touch soothing his panting breaths.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the distant murmur of the city below. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt, knowing that Trent had just failed to win the bet. But as Trent rolled off you, pulling you close, you pushed the thought aside. For now, you would revel in the warmth of his embrace, the feel of his chest rising and falling with each breath.

Trent leaned in and kissed your forehead gently. "Worth it?" he whispered, a smug smile playing on his lips.

Your head shook but you couldn't help but laugh. "You're such a tease," you huffed, your voice still shaky from the aftermath of your orgasm.

"Couldn't resist," Trent said with a grin, his chest still heaving. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not a big deal anyway. Dom gave up this morning."

Your eyes widened in shock. "What?" you exclaimed, pushing yourself up to look at him. "You mean you could've..."

Trent nodded, his cheeky grin growing wider. "Could've," he confirmed, "but I had to make it good. For the prize, obviously."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. "Trent," you said, shoving weakly at his chest. "I felt so guilty."

Trent chuckled, kissing your forehead again. "It's alright, love," he assured you. "I think we've been good for long enough."

You sighed, a mix of relief and annoyance crossing your face. "I guess. But you could've told me sooner," you pouted, snuggling closer to his warmth.

Trent shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?" He leaned in, kissing your cheek. "Besides, we both know I was going to win anyway." His voice was full of good-natured arrogance, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes, even as you felt a warmth spread through your chest at his confidence.

the meeting room at y/n’s company building buzzed with quiet chatter, the kind that filled the air before something important was about to begin. ayesha was the last to arrive, her stride purposeful as she entered, coffee in hand and her iPad tucked under her arm. her presence immediately silenced the room. ayesha didn’t need to demand attention; she simply carried it with her.

y/n sat at the far end of the table, directly across from trent. the space between them felt charged, like an invisible thread pulled taut. her thoughts were scattered, flitting between the memory of his whispered confession at the wedding and the way he kissed her like he meant every word. now, she couldn’t meet his gaze without the echo of when i kissed you, you became mine reverberating in her head.

trent, on the other hand, looked almost relaxed, his arm draped casually over the back of his chair. but she noticed the subtle way his thumb tapped against his thigh—a habit she’d picked up on when he was trying to mask his impatience.

“alright, let’s get started,” ayesha announced, setting her coffee on the table. her voice was brisk, professional. she didn’t waste time on pleasantries, diving straight into the matter at hand. “first, let me say that you two have done a phenomenal job so far. the public loves you together, and the numbers don’t lie—engagement is through the roof. every appearance trends, every post gets millions of likes. you’ve exceeded expectations.”

y/n offered a polite nod, though her heart wasn’t in it. she should’ve felt relief or even pride at ayesha’s praise, but instead, all she felt was the growing weight of her discomfort.

“that’s good to hear,” she murmured, her voice soft.

trent leaned back in his chair, his tone neutral. “so, what’s the problem?”

ayesha glanced between them, her lips pressing into a line. “it’s not a problem, per se. just… feedback. some fans and media outlets have noticed a lack of—” she paused, searching for the right word. “—intimacy between you two. they’re buying the relationship, but they want to see more sparks.”

y/n’s brows furrowed. “sparks?”

“intimacy,” ayesha clarified, her tone matter-of-fact. “the kind that makes people swoon. kisses, lingering touches, moments that feel unscripted. the fans want to believe you’re completely infatuated with each other.”

y/n blinked, the word kisses catching in her mind like a hook. heat crept up her neck, and she instinctively crossed her arms. “kisses? as in… on camera?”

“exactly,” ayesha confirmed, tapping her iPad. “right now, you two look comfortable together, which is great. but comfortable doesn’t sell the way passion does. we need you to push it a little further.”

trent frowned, his jaw tightening. “so, what are you saying? we have to start making out in public now?”

ayesha let out a small laugh, though it lacked humor. “nothing that extreme. but a kiss or two would go a long way. and it needs to feel natural, not staged. that’s why I’m suggesting a little… practice.”

y/n’s heart dropped. “practice?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“yes,” ayesha said simply. “you need to rehearse it so it doesn’t look awkward when the cameras are rolling. think of it like choreography—just another part of the job.”

y/n’s chest tightened, the very idea making her stomach churn. practice kissing trent? the same trent who had kissed her at the wedding with such certainty it left her questioning everything? the same trent who had whispered that she was his like it was a fact, not a feeling?

“this is ridiculous,” trent muttered, running a hand down his face.

“ridiculous or not, it’s what’s needed,” ayesha said firmly. “you two are close. you’ve spent months building this dynamic. you’re almost there—just a little more effort, and it’ll be perfect.”

y/n shook her head, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her notebook. “this is too much. it’s one thing to act close or hold hands, but… rehearsing kisses? that’s too weird.”

ayesha arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “this is what you signed up for. no one said it would be easy.”

trent straightened in his seat, his tone sharp. “we’re doing enough. we don’t need to rehearse anything.”

ayesha gave him a pointed look but didn’t argue. instead, she stood, smoothing out the front of her blazer. “i’ll leave you two to figure it out. just remember—this only works if the public believes in it.”

she walked out of the room without another word, leaving the two of them in a silence that felt heavier than before.

y/n stared at the table, her mind racing. the thought of rehearsing a kiss with trent made her pulse quicken—not out of excitement, but out of sheer anxiety. she couldn’t forget the way he’d kissed her last time, how it felt like he was claiming her. would it be like that again? or would it feel rehearsed, hollow, nothing more than an obligation?

“you good?” trent’s voice broke through her thoughts, soft but laced with concern.

she nodded quickly, not trusting herself to speak.

he tilted his head, studying her. “you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

she glanced up, her eyes meeting his. “it’s not about what i want,” she said quietly. “it’s about what’s expected.”

trent frowned, his expression unreadable. after a moment, he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “for the record, i’m not rehearsing anything in front of anyone.”

her heart stuttered. “you’re not?”

his lips curled into a faint smirk, his voice dipping even lower as he leaned in. “nah. i don’t need a camera to make it real.”

his words sent a shiver down her spine, the heat of his breath brushing against her ear. she swallowed hard, her pulse thundering in her ears.

before she could respond, trent pulled back, his smirk still in place. “just thought you should know.”

she stared at him, her thoughts a jumbled mess. and for the first time, she couldn’t tell where the line between acting and reality was supposed to be.

the private jet hummed softly as it cut through the sky, the low vibration a steady background to the quiet luxury of the cabin. sunlight streamed through the windows, catching on the sleek surfaces and glinting off the silver accents. y/n leaned back in her seat, an oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, her legs tucked under her as she scrolled aimlessly through the playlist on her phone.

trent sat across from her, leaning forward slightly as he tied the laces on his sneakers. his movements were casual, but his eyes kept drifting toward her, taking in the way the sunlight danced on her skin and the way she bit her bottom lip when she concentrated too hard. the intimacy of traveling together—just the two of them—was unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

“you’ve been quiet,” trent said after a moment, his voice cutting through the soft hum of the jet.

she looked up, caught off guard. “quiet can be nice.”

he grinned, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “true, but it’s not as fun.”

y/n smirked, her fingers pausing on her screen. “and you’re all about fun, huh?”

“depends on the company,” he shot back, his gaze steady on hers.

her stomach flipped, but she masked it with a small laugh. “lucky for you, i’m excellent company.”

trent chuckled, his head tilting slightly as he studied her. “i’m starting to see that.”

the playful exchange eased the tension in the air, though the undercurrent of something more lingered.

“so,” she said, deciding to shift the focus, “monaco. have you been before?”

“a few times,” he said with a nod. “it’s a good vibe—fast cars, good weather, expensive everything.”

“sounds about right,” she said, her lips twitching into a smile. “first time for me, though. i’m excited.”

“you’re an f1 fan, right?”

she raised an eyebrow, impressed. “look at you, doing your homework.”

“what can i say?” he shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “i’m a man of many talents.”

“is that so?” she teased, leaning forward slightly. “name one.”

“besides football?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes glinting with challenge.

“obviously.”

“alright,” he said, leaning forward to match her posture. “i’m excellent at reading people.”

she scoffed, crossing her arms. “oh, really?”

“yeah.” he leaned back again, his expression smug. “like right now, for example. you’re trying really hard to act like you’re not impressed by me.”

y/n rolled her eyes, but the warmth spreading through her chest betrayed her. “keep dreaming, alexander-arnold.”

he laughed, the sound low and infectious. “you didn’t deny it, though.”

“anyway,” she said, brushing off his comment, though her cheeks felt warmer. “who’s your team?”

“alpine,” he said without hesitation.

she snorted. “of course. you’re an owner. you kinda have to, don’t you?”

“loyalty,” he said simply, though there was a playful glint in his eye. “what about you?”

“ferrari,” she said, her voice carrying just a hint of pride.

trent groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “you’re one of those fans.”

“what’s wrong with ferrari?” she challenged, sitting up straighter.

“they’re all flash and heartbreak,” he said, shaking his head. “every year it’s ‘this is our season,’ and then…” he made a crashing motion with his hand.

“okay, hater,” she shot back, laughing. “what do you want me to do? switch to alpine?”

“couldn’t hurt,” he teased. “might finally back a winner.”

“oh, you’re full of it,” she said, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“and yet,” he said, his grin widening, “you keep talking to me.”

“because you’re here,” she retorted, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

as the conversation flowed, the topics meandered—music, childhood memories, the wildest places they’d been. trent found himself cataloging the way she spoke, the way her voice lifted when she got excited or how her hands moved when she was trying to explain something.

“alright, one more,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “weirdest habit?”

she tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “i talk to myself. like, full-on conversations.”

he raised an eyebrow. “out loud?”

“yep.” she grinned, unbothered. “it’s helpful, though. keeps me organized.”

“and here i thought i was special, getting all your attention,” he joked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“you might be,” she said lightly, her tone laced with something unspoken.

trent’s smirk faltered for just a second, his gaze sharpening as if trying to decipher the meaning behind her words. but before he could respond, the jet dipped slightly, signaling their descent.

“and we are off,” y/n said, looking out the window with a soft smile as the jet dipped into its descent.

trent leaned back in his seat, his gaze shifting from the window to her face. “by the end of this weekend,” he said, his tone light but mischievous, “you’re gonna be head over heels for me.”

she turned to him, raising an eyebrow as a laugh bubbled out of her. “head over heels, yeah?.”

“just saying,” he said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “it’s monaco—good weather, great company, and me. kinda hard not to fall in love, don’t you think?”

she rolled her eyes, but the smile playing on her lips betrayed her. “you watch too many films.”

“like i said y/n i can read people. don't fight it, baby,” he said, flashing her a grin, “i know i am irresistible.”

“you really need to work on your humility,” she teased, shaking her head.

“what can I say?” he replied, leaning forward slightly. “when you’ve got it, you’ve got it.”

y/n turned back to the window, fighting the warmth spreading through her cheeks. “keep dreaming, alexander-arnold.”

trent chuckled softly, watching her for a moment before leaning back again, the grin on his face lingering.

trent leaned back in his seat, watching her. “this weekend’s gonna be interesting.”

she turned to him, her eyebrows raised. “why’s that?”

“just a feeling,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on hers a moment too long.

as the plane touched down, y/n found herself wondering if trent had been thinking about the kiss as much as she had. something told her she might find out sooner than later.

the room wasn’t massive, but it exuded the kind of luxury you’d expect from a monaco hotel during grand prix weekend. sleek furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sparkling harbor, and, of course, the bed. one bed. y/n stared at it for a moment, her lips twitching like she was trying to fight off a smile.

trent noticed immediately. “go on. say it.”

“say what?” she asked innocently, dropping her bag by the chair.

“whatever you’re thinking,” he said, kicking off his sneakers and leaning against the dresser, his arms crossed.

“i’m not thinking anything,” she said, trying to sound casual. but the gleam in her eye gave her away.

“uh-huh.” he cocked his head, his grin lazy. “you’re thinking about how all those rom-coms got it right. one bed. what will we do?”

she laughed, finally letting the smile break through. “don’t flatter yourself. i’m sleeping on the left side.”

“good, i’m a right-side guy anyway,” he quipped, brushing past her and pulling his suitcase onto the bed.

she shook her head and wandered toward the balcony, letting the sunlight hit her face as she leaned against the glass door. it was still early, the afternoon stretching ahead of them, but her excitement was practically buzzing beneath her skin. monaco. the grand prix. ferrari. it all felt unreal.

trent joined her after a moment, standing close enough that their arms brushed. “you’re vibrating.”

she looked up at him, feigning confusion. “what?”

“you’re so excited, you’re vibrating,” he teased, nudging her gently. “you’re gonna wear yourself out before we even get to the track.”

“i can’t help it,” she admitted, her voice breathless. “it’s monaco. and it’s f1. and—”

“and ferrari,” he finished for her, smirking.

she grinned, turning to face him fully. “as long as i’m in the same vicinity as charles leclerc, i’ll deal with being stuck at alpine with you all weekend.”

his brows shot up, mock offense coloring his tone. “oh, so i’m a burden now?”

“you catch on fast, honey,” she said, her voice sweet as syrup. “my goal is for him to fall in love with me at first sight this weekend.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head as he leaned against the doorframe. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’m honest,” she shot back, crossing her arms.

“yeah, well,” he said, his smirk fading slightly, “i wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”

the way he said it caught her off guard—his voice softer, almost sincere. her teasing smile faltered, and she blinked up at him, her heart giving an odd little flutter. “don’t say that.”

“why not? it’s true,” he said simply, his gaze steady on hers.

she gulped, suddenly feeling too warm despite the gentle breeze wafting in from the balcony. “because... it’s not.”

he tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. “what do you mean?”

she hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor as she spoke quietly. “i don’t know. i just... i’ve never felt like someone people would fall in love with.”

trent’s expression softened, and he took a small step closer. “y/n.”

“it’s fine,” she said quickly, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. “i’m being dramatic.”

“you’re not,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “and i don’t know who made you feel that way, but they’re dead wrong.”

she looked up at him again, his face so earnest it made her chest ache. she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. instead, she just nodded, offering him a small smile.

“good,” he said after a beat, his voice lighter now. “because if anyone’s falling in love this weekend, it’s you. with me.”

she laughed, grateful for the shift in tone. “you wish.”

“no, seriously,” he said, his grin returning. “by sunday, you’re gonna be looking at me like i’m the ferrari.”

“delusional,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“confident,” he corrected, winking.

they lingered there for a moment before he clapped his hands together. “right. let’s shower and get ready. you can drool over leclerc later.”

trent emerged from the bathroom, the faint scent of his cedarwood soap lingering in the air. his white shirt, crisp and simple, stretched effortlessly across his broad shoulders, tucked neatly into his light khaki pants. a navy alpine hat completed the look, the brim casting a shadow over his sharp features. he looked casual, understated—but impossibly good, the kind of good that made y/n’s breath hitch before she caught herself staring.

she pretended to adjust the strap of her bag, glancing away quickly, but he noticed. of course, he noticed.

“what?” he asked, a teasing edge to his tone as he stepped into his sneakers.

“nothing,” she said too quickly, the faintest hint of color blooming on her cheeks.

he smirked, tipping his hat slightly as he gave her an appraising look. “you sure? because you look like you’ve got something to say.”

“i don’t,” she lied, her fingers now fiddling with the halter tie of her dress.

trent’s eyes fell to the movement, and for a second, he forgot how to form words. the dress—a watercolored masterpiece in hues of soft blues, pinks, and greens—clung to her curves like it was made just for her. the halter neckline tied elegantly at the back of her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, while the flowing skirt swayed gently as she moved. her braids were styled in a bohemian half-up, half-down look, with two delicate plaits framing her face. she looked radiant, ethereal, like a walking daydream.

“wow,” he breathed, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

her eyes snapped back to him, narrowing slightly. “what?”

he shook his head, his smirk softening into something warmer, almost reverent. “you’re... beautiful.”

her lips parted in surprise, and she quickly looked down, her fingers brushing over the skirt of her dress. “it’s just a dress,” she mumbled, but the shy smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

“it’s not just a dress,” he said, stepping closer. “and it’s not just you wearing it—it’s the whole thing. you look... unreal, y/n.”

she glanced up at him through her lashes, the warmth in his eyes making her chest tighten. “you clean up nice too, you know.”

he chuckled, adjusting the brim of his hat. “yeah, but it’s different for me. i just throw this on and call it a day. you look like a work of art.”

she didn’t respond, her cheeks burning as she brushed past him, heading for the door. “we should go,” she said, her voice light but hurried.

“i’m just saying,” he called after her, grinning as he grabbed his phone and followed her out.

the drive to the paddock was filled with her giddy excitement and his amused commentary. she couldn’t stop fidgeting, her hands smoothing over her dress, her fingers adjusting the braids framing her face every few minutes.

“you’re going to wear yourself out before we even get there,” trent teased, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“i can’t help it,” she admitted, her voice tinged with nervous energy. “this is monaco. this is f1. do you know how long i’ve waited for this?”

“about as long as you’ve waited to run off with leclerc,” he joked, earning a playful glare from her.

“don’t be jealous,” she shot back, folding her arms. “i can admire other men. it’s healthy.”

“admire, sure. but you’re already planning how to get him to fall in love with you,” he pointed out, a mock pout on his face.

“and you’re acting like that’s a bad thing,” she said sweetly, her grin widening. “i told you, trent—you’re just my ticket in.”

he shook his head, laughing. “unbelievable. and here i was thinking you liked me for my charm.”

she tilted her head, pretending to consider. “well, you’re a decent placeholder. but leclerc? leclerc is endgame.”

“you’re killing me, y/n,” he groaned, pulling into the paddock parking lot.

as they stepped out, the hum of engines and the chatter of the crowd surrounded them. trent walked beside her, his hand brushing hers as they made their way toward the alpine garage. but even with the buzz of monaco around them, his eyes kept drifting back to her—the way her dress caught the light, the way her braids swayed with each step, the way her excitement lit up her entire face.

“you’re really not gonna let the leclerc thing go, are you?” he asked as they reached the entrance.

she looked up at him, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “not until he signs his name across my heart.”

he groaned again, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “just don’t forget who got you here.”

“how could i?” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder. “you’re my ticket, remember?”

and even though he laughed, a part of him couldn’t help but wish she meant something more.

she rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, grabbing her things and disappearing into the bathroom. by the time they were dressed and heading out to the paddock, she felt lighter. trent had a way of doing that—making the weight she carried feel a little less heavy, even if he didn’t realize it.

as they stepped into the car waiting to take them to the track, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “thanks, by the way.”

he looked at her, puzzled. “for what?”

she shrugged, fiddling with the strap of her bag. “for being... you.”

he didn’t say anything, but the small, knowing smile that tugged at his lips was enough.

the hum of activity in the alpine garage was mesmerizing—engineers poring over screens, mechanics prepping tools, and the occasional roar of an engine reverberating through the space. y/n stood at the heart of it all, her wide eyes soaking in every detail, her posture attentive as an alpine engineer explained something about tire temperatures and aerodynamics. trent leaned against the edge of a table, arms crossed, watching her with a mixture of amusement and awe.

she wasn’t just nodding along politely; she was fully engrossed, asking thoughtful questions and leaning in to hear every word over the noise. when the cars roared to life, she clutched the headphones around her neck and slipped them on, her face lighting up like a kid on christmas morning.

trent pulled out his phone, unable to resist capturing the moment. he snapped a quick photo of her, the oversized alpine headphones dwarfing her head, her sundress flowing around her as she leaned slightly forward to get a better view of the cars leaving the garage. her expression was a mix of awe and excitement, and he couldn’t help the soft smile tugging at his lips as he looked at the picture.

“you’re such a tourist,” he teased, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

she turned, her face glowing with excitement. “i am a tourist! this is so cool, trent. you have no idea.”

“oh, i’ve got some idea,” he said, gesturing to the way she practically vibrated with energy.

she giggled, pulling her phone out to post the photo he’d taken of her, captioning it with a simple, best day ever.

“you’re really going all in, huh?” he asked, his voice warm as he stepped closer to her. “when you told me you liked f1, i thought you meant casually. like... you’d catch a race here and there.”

she turned to him, arching a brow. “what? you thought i was a casual fan?”

“not fake,” he clarified, lifting his hands defensively. “just... casual. you’ve never taken this kind of interest in football.”

“that’s because i’ve been around football my whole life,” she said, tilting her head. “i know how it works. but this?” she gestured to the garage, the pit crew bustling around them. “this is fascinating. it’s not just the drivers—it’s the strategy, the technology, the speed... everything has to be perfect. one tiny mistake and it’s game over.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “i mean, football’s kind of like that too.”

“not the same,” she argued, her lips quirking into a playful smile. “don’t get me wrong, football’s great and all, but there’s something about f1 that’s... different. it’s like this mix of art and science, and i just love it.”

he watched her as she spoke, the way her hands moved animatedly, the passion in her voice making his chest tighten. it was rare to see her this open, this excited, and he found himself hanging on every word.

“so what you’re saying is,” he began, a teasing lilt in his voice, “you’d rather be dating a driver than me?”

she laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. “oh, absolutely,” she said, deadpan, before softening. “but you’ll do for now.”

“wow,” he said, clutching his chest dramatically. “i feel so special.”

“you should,” she shot back, smirking.

just then, the cars roared back into the garage after their laps, the sheer power of the engines making her visibly shiver with excitement. trent glanced down at her, the way her eyes lit up and her lips parted slightly as the mechanics swarmed the car.

“you’re really into this, aren’t you?” he asked softly, more a statement than a question.

she nodded, not taking her eyes off the cars. “i feel like i’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

trent leaned closer, lowering his voice. “you’re gonna have a hell of a time explaining to ferrari how you spent the morning in alpine’s garage.”

she turned to him, her smile playful. “it’s called getting the best of both worlds.”

he shook his head, laughing under his breath. “you’re spoiled.”

“you love it, boyfriend” she teased, nudging him lightly with her shoulder.

and as he looked at her, with her glowing skin, her excitement palpable in every fiber of her being, he couldn’t bring himself to disagree.

the evening in monaco was everything y/n had imagined and more—breathtaking, glamorous, and full of life. as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky turned a deep shade of indigo, streaked with the last golden traces of the day. the lights of the city shimmered against the calm waters of the harbor, casting a romantic glow over everything. yachts dotted the water like floating mansions, their sleek lines and gleaming surfaces reflecting the luxury of the place.

trent, as usual, was by her side, dressed in a simple but sharp black shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and a pair of dark jeans that fit him just right. his hair was slightly tousled from the breeze, and his smile was relaxed, yet there was something about tonight that made his usual confidence seem a little softer.

“you look beautiful as ever,” he said as they stepped out of the car, his voice filled with admiration. y/n was wearing a floor-length dress that shimmered with tiny gold threads woven through the fabric. the halter neck drew attention to her shoulders and the curve of her back, while the slit on the side revealed just enough of her legs to keep things teasingly mysterious.

“thank you,” she replied, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes scanning the cityscape in awe. “this place... it’s unreal.”

“yeah, it’s something, huh?” trent agreed, his gaze following hers as he took in the beauty of monaco with new eyes. “i’ve been here a few times, but it never gets old.”

they walked arm in arm through the bustling streets, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses spilling out from the open-air cafes and bars they passed. the air smelled of saltwater, expensive cologne, and the faint scent of florals from nearby gardens. everything about the night felt alive, full of possibility.

y/n could hardly believe she was here. this wasn’t just any night—it was a night in monaco, with trent, of all people, by her side. the whole experience felt like something out of a movie. and as they passed through a narrow alleyway that opened up to a terrace overlooking the bay, the moment felt so surreal that she had to pinch herself to make sure it was real.

they settled into a small, elegant restaurant perched above the water, the soft hum of the city below them blending with the soft jazz music that played in the background. candles flickered on each table, casting a warm glow over their faces. as they sat down, y/n noticed how the light seemed to catch trent’s eyes, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

“this is perfect,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe. she had never been one for extravagant nights out—her life was usually quieter, filled with studio sessions and late nights working on songs. but here, in this moment, she felt like she was living a dream.

“glad you think so,” trent said, his gaze lingering on her with something more than just the usual flirtation. there was a tenderness in the way he looked at her, as if the beauty of the night, the beauty of monaco, was nothing compared to the beauty he saw in her.

the waiter arrived, offering them drinks, and trent ordered something for both of them without hesitation. y/n was still taking in the view when she heard him laugh softly.

“what’s so funny?” she asked, glancing at him.

“you look so... content,” he said, the words carrying a sincerity that made her heart skip a beat. “i think i’ve finally found a way to impress you.”

y/n smiled, shaking her head. “you’ve been impressive since the start, trent. but this... this is special.”

“well, i’m glad i could do it right for once,” he replied, his grin widening as he raised his glass in a playful toast.

“here’s to special nights,” she said, clinking her glass against his.

they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, letting the noise of the city fade into the background. y/n’s thoughts wandered back to everything she had been through with jadon, all the tension and confusion. but here, in this moment, with trent’s steady presence beside her, it was easy to forget about all of it.

the night stretched on, and as they walked through the streets of monaco hand in hand, she felt a connection to him that was deeper than just the shared moments of the day. she wasn’t sure what this was, but she knew she didn’t want it to end. for once, she allowed herself to feel completely lost in the beauty of the evening, in the beauty of the company beside her.

underneath the stars, in the city that never slept, y/n finally let herself feel like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

the next day dawned bright and clear, the sun rising over the horizon, casting a golden hue over the sparkling water. the air was warm but not overwhelming, a gentle breeze ruffling the palm trees along the coastline of monaco. today was all about relaxation, fun, and escaping the world for a little while—trent had arranged a private yacht for the day, and y/n couldn’t contain her excitement.

as she stepped onto the deck, she squinted at the vastness of the sea, the water so blue it almost seemed unreal. the yacht, sleek and luxurious, was the epitome of comfort and style. a few crew members greeted them with smiles and drinks, and y/n instantly felt like she was in a dream.

trent, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and navy shorts, was already at the bow, his arms resting on the railing as he watched the waves. there was a sense of peace about him today, a break from the high-energy environment of racing and public life. when he saw her approach, his lips curled into a soft smile.

“you ready for this?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

“more than ready,” y/n replied with a grin, her heart racing a little at the sight of him looking so effortlessly handsome. she felt like she was getting to know him on a different level every time they spent more time together, and today was no exception.

they spent the morning out on the water, the yacht cutting through the sea with ease. y/n was in her element, the ocean air filling her lungs, the sun warming her skin. they chatted about everything and nothing—music, life, their dreams, their pasts. as she listened to trent speak, she found herself laughing more than she had in a long time, the sound of her laughter blending with the gentle rhythm of the waves.

at some point, trent suggested they both jump off the yacht for a swim, and y/n eagerly agreed. with a playful smirk, he dove off the side, the splash sending droplets of water flying into the air. y/n followed soon after, her body hitting the water with a graceful dive. they swam side by side, laughing and talking as the world seemed to melt away around them.

after a while, they returned to the yacht, soaking wet but exhilarated. they lounged on the sunbeds, drying off under the warmth of the sun. y/n felt a peacefulness that she hadn’t experienced in ages. being here, with trent, surrounded by nothing but the vastness of the sea and the calm rhythm of the world, made everything else feel distant.

“this is perfect,” she said, her voice relaxed and content as she leaned back, her arms stretched out above her head.

“i’m glad you’re enjoying it,” trent replied, his eyes scanning her with an unreadable expression. there was something different in the way he was looking at her today, a deeper understanding in his gaze. “i’ve always liked the sea. it’s peaceful, you know? no noise, no chaos—just... you and the water.”

“yeah,” y/n murmured. “i feel the same way. i think that’s why i like being by the ocean so much.”

they both fell silent for a moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water against the hull of the yacht. it was a comfortable silence, one that felt natural and easy between them.

“you know,” trent said, breaking the quiet, “i never thought i’d enjoy a day like this. just... doing nothing.”

“it’s not nothing,” y/n replied softly, her eyes meeting his. “it’s everything. sometimes the best days are the ones where you don’t have to do anything except be present.”

he smiled at that, his expression softening. “you’re right. it’s just... being with you here, like this. it feels... real, you know?”

“i know,” y/n said, her heart fluttering slightly in her chest. the way he spoke, the way he was looking at her—it felt like the beginning of something more than just a day spent together. it felt like the start of something that could change everything.

they spent the rest of the day on the water, drifting lazily from one beautiful spot to another, taking in the sights and enjoying each other’s company in a way that felt effortless. trent was more relaxed than she had ever seen him, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a quiet calmness. and y/n, for the first time in what felt like ages, felt like she could simply be herself—no expectations, no pressure, just her and trent, enjoying the simplicity of the day.

as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, y/n found herself lying next to trent on one of the sunbeds. she had her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for a brief moment, the world felt completely still.

“i’m glad we did this,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“me too,” trent replied softly, his hand lightly brushing against hers. “i think this is one of my favorite days.”

“mine too,” y/n murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed as the warmth of the day and the softness of his touch made her feel safe and content.

as the yacht slowly made its way back to the harbor, the sounds of the city growing louder in the distance, y/n realized that this day had been more than just a chance to relax. it had been a moment of connection, a step closer to understanding what they could have together. and as trent’s hand gently intertwined with hers, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of something bigger than either of them could have predicted.

race day arrived with a palpable buzz in the air, the streets of monaco crowded with fans, cars zooming by, and the sound of engines roaring in the distance. the day felt electric, like the entire world was on the edge of something incredible, and y/n couldn’t help but feel her excitement build as she stood next to trent, her hand firmly clasped in his.

the paddock was a whirlwind of activity, engineers rushing around, teams prepping their cars, and journalists snapping photos. yet, amidst the chaos, it felt as though everything had slowed down when she looked at trent. the two of them, hand in hand, moving through the throng of people, a quiet bubble of space surrounding them.

as they approached the ferrari garage, trent squeezed her hand gently. “i thought you might want to watch with your favorite team today,” he said with a grin, his voice low and teasing.

y/n stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening in complete surprise. “wait—what?” her voice caught in her throat, and she felt her heart leap into her chest. she glanced at the garage in front of her, and her excitement erupted, almost too much to contain. “you’re—seriously—i can watch with ferrari?” she asked, a laugh of disbelief escaping her.

before she could process the words, she was already launching herself into his arms, her hands clutching onto his neck as she practically leaped into his chest. trent’s hands immediately went around her waist to steady her, his grip instinctively tightening as she buried her face in his neck, her body shaking with happiness.

he chuckled softly, a warm sound against her ear, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he held her close. “didn’t expect that kind of reaction, did you?”

“this is—this is everything, trent!” y/n laughed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. “i can’t believe you did this for me!”

“well,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes, “you’ve been talking about ferrari non-stop since we got here, so i thought... why not give you the chance to see them up close?”

her joy was overwhelming, and without thinking, she found herself leaning up and planting a quick, impulsive kiss on his lips. it wasn’t the kind of kiss she had planned—it was a rush, a burst of emotion she couldn’t contain, a kiss sparked by the pure joy of the moment. it was soft at first, but as soon as their lips met, something inside of her snapped. the kiss deepened, the overwhelming happiness and excitement flowing into that single, unexpected moment.

trent froze for a split second, as if unsure what to do, before his hands moved instinctively to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. the kiss felt electric, something neither of them had anticipated, a perfect mix of surprise and desire.

it didn’t last long—just a few seconds—but when they pulled away, both of them were breathless. y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing, trying to figure out what had just happened. her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and she couldn’t meet trent’s eyes, feeling the heat of the moment linger between them.

trent cleared his throat softly, his own breath coming in slightly quicker than usual. “uh... i didn’t... expect that.”

“me neither,” y/n whispered, still stunned by what had just happened. she tried to compose herself, but her hands were still trembling slightly as she pulled back. “i’m sorry. i just—i don’t know what came over me.”

trent laughed softly, running a hand through his hair as he tried to regain his own composure. “don’t apologize. i... didn’t mind,” he said, his voice a little lower than usual, almost playful, but there was a hint of something else there too—something softer. “but if you kiss me every time i do something nice for you, i’m gonna need a little more incentive.”

y/n’s eyes widened slightly at the teasing in his tone, and she couldn’t help but laugh nervously, trying to cover up the sudden fluster of emotions she felt. “oh, please. i’ll leave you to your ferrari then. i’m sure you’ll get plenty of incentives to do nice things for me,” she teased back, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

but deep down, her heart was racing for an entirely different reason. it wasn’t just about the kiss—it was the connection, the intensity that had been building between them for days, and how, in that moment, it felt like everything had shifted. but instead of overthinking it, she allowed herself to simply enjoy the magic of it all.

“you’ll get plenty of ferrari time, trust me,” trent said with a wink, his voice lighter now. “but let’s head over and get you situated first, yeah? we’ve got the best view in the house.”

y/n nodded eagerly, still reeling from the kiss. she squeezed his hand tighter as they approached the ferrari garage, both of them aware of the sudden shift in their dynamic, but neither of them quite ready to say anything about it.

as they entered the garage, the team was already prepping the cars for the upcoming race, and y/n felt her heart flutter in her chest at the sight. the red and white cars gleamed under the lights, and she couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. trent had outdone himself, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like they were just friends or casual acquaintances—it felt like something more.

y/n stood alone in the ferrari garage, her heart still racing from the thrill of being surrounded by her favorite team. the energy in the air was electric, and she soaked it all in—the mechanics hustling around, the cars revving, the intensity of the moment. it was everything she’d hoped for, and more. but as much as she tried to focus on the race prep, her mind kept drifting back to trent.

she hadn’t realized how much she’d gotten used to his presence until it was gone. a part of her missed him more than she expected. even with all the excitement around her, there was this undeniable pull, an ache she couldn’t ignore. she turned to the intern who had been helping her, still trying to maintain her excitement. “thank you for everything,” she said with a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes completely. “i’m gonna go check in on my boyfriend, if that’s okay.”

the intern gave her a nod, clearly understanding y/n’s need to leave. “of course, go ahead. enjoy!”

y/n didn’t waste another second. she quickly left the ferrari garage, the buzzing atmosphere fading as she stepped back into the corridor, and made her way toward the alpine garage, knowing exactly where trent would be. her steps quickened, her heart picking up pace with each one. she could feel him pulling her back, and before she knew it, she was standing just outside the alpine garage.

her eyes scanned the area until she spotted him—trent, focused on the engineers, his back to her as he listened intently to the discussions. without a second thought, she crept quietly behind him, the sound of her steps muffled by the noise of the paddock. standing just behind him, she reached out, her fingers slipping through his, the soft touch almost an unspoken request for connection.

trent froze at the unexpected warmth of her fingers, his body stiffening before he turned, surprised to find y/n standing there with a playful smile. his gaze softened immediately, and his lips parted in surprise. “y/n,” he said, his voice low, almost in disbelief. “you... you’re here?”

y/n shrugged, the smile never leaving her lips. “missed you,” she said, her tone casual, as if they’d said it a million times before. there was an ease in the way she spoke, as though her words were just the simple truth, something that had become second nature.

trent’s heart skipped a beat. “i missed you too,” he replied, a smile tugging at his lips. but then his brow furrowed slightly, his eyes scanning her face. “but what about your ferrari?”

y/n laughed softly, shaking her head as she leaned a little closer, her fingers still intertwined with his. “i would rather watch with you, if that’s okay,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “if you don’t mind, that is.”

trent’s chest tightened, but it wasn’t from surprise—it was from something else. something deeper. he wanted to say something, to respond with words that made sense, but instead, he found himself smiling at her again, as if this moment was exactly where he wanted to be.

he stepped closer, his hand squeezing hers gently, as if to reassure her that this was exactly where she belonged. “of course,” he said, his voice quieter now, the air between them thick with an unspoken understanding. “it’s more than okay. you know that.”

y/n’s smile widened, the connection between them deepening with just those few words. she squeezed his hand back before leaning in just slightly, her cheek brushing against his shoulder as they stood there together in the alpine garage, the world continuing to buzz around them, but for a moment, everything else faded away.

“thank you,” she whispered, the words so soft they could have been lost to the noise around them, but trent heard them, his heart stirring in response.

“no need to thank me,” he said quietly, his thumb grazing over her knuckles. “this... this is where i want to be.”

y/n tilted her head slightly, glancing up at him. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he answered, his voice warm, the sincerity in his words clear. there was no pretending, no games—just the truth, raw and honest. “with you.”

she felt a flutter in her chest at his words, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the heat of the sun overhead or the intensity of the race. for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“so, you’ll watch with me then?” trent asked again, his hand still firmly in hers, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.

“yeah,” y/n said softly, her smile finally matching the joy in her heart. “i’ll watch with you.”

and as they walked side by side into the alpine garage, the world of racing, the paddock, the noise, and the excitement all seemed to blur into the background. for that moment, it was just the two of them, and it was exactly enough.

after a long, thrilling day in monaco, the buzz of the race still lingered in the air, but the hotel room offered a sanctuary of quiet. the lights of the city stretched out beyond the massive window where y/n stood, her silhouette bathed in a soft glow. monaco's music drifted faintly from the streets below, but inside, the silence between her and trent was almost deafening.

y/n’s thoughts were a tangled mess. the adrenaline from the day still coursed through her, but it wasn’t just the race, the excitement, or even the glamour of monaco that had her heart racing. it was trent—the way he smiled at her, the way his touch lingered a second too long, the way his presence filled every empty corner of her mind. it was becoming harder to ignore the feelings she had fought so hard to suppress.

trent, standing by the bed, had been quiet, his movements deliberate as he shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. his gaze kept flickering to her, the tension in the room palpable. he didn’t say anything at first, but y/n could feel the weight of his eyes on her.

in the window’s reflection, their gazes met. his stare was intense, burning, and y/n’s breath hitched. her body tensed under the force of his attention, her heart hammering against her ribcage.

she turned slowly, her chest tightening as she faced him. “what?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted an answer.

trent took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “nothing,” he murmured, though the way his gaze darkened told her everything. “you’re just… standing there like you’re trying to drive me crazy.”

her lips quirked into a small, teasing smile. “you’re imagining things.”

“am i?” he asked, his voice low, rough. the way he looked at her now was different—more certain, more determined.

she didn’t answer. couldn’t. the space between them seemed to shrink with each breath, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like it might snap.

trent crossed the room in a few measured strides, stopping just short of her. his hand lifted, brushing against her bare shoulder, and y/n shivered at the warmth of his touch.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

she nodded, though her throat felt dry. “yeah,” she whispered. “it’s just been a long day.”

his hand slid down her arm, his touch light but firm. “long but good?”

“really good,” she said, her voice barely steady.

trent’s eyes searched hers, and for a moment, he seemed hesitant, as though teetering on the edge of a decision. then, as if something inside him snapped, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly—testing, tentative.

y/n froze for half a second, her mind screaming at her to stop, to think, but her body had other plans. she kissed him back, her lips parting slightly as his deepened the kiss, his hand cupping her jaw to angle her closer. her fingers found the fabric of his shirt, clutching at it as if he might slip away.

his kiss was slow but deliberate, every movement purposeful, every touch igniting something deep inside her. the heat between them was undeniable, and as his lips trailed to her jaw, down to her neck, she tilted her head, giving him more access.

“trent,” she whispered, his name slipping from her lips like a prayer.

he groaned softly against her skin, his hands finding her waist and pulling her flush against him. “you drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

her breath caught, and she laughed softly, though it came out shaky. “you’re not exactly subtle, either.”

he pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes searching hers. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

she didn’t answer with words. instead, she tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers and sliding it off his shoulders. her fingers traced the lines of his chest, the heat of his skin burning under her touch. “does that answer your question?”

trent’s restraint snapped, and he kissed her again, this time harder, more desperate. their bodies pressed together as his hands roamed over her, exploring, claiming. y/n’s back hit the window as he pressed her against the cool glass, his lips never leaving hers.

her hands slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck as she pulled him even closer. the room seemed to fade away, the only thing grounding her being the feel of him—his lips, his hands, the way his body seemed to fit perfectly against hers.

“you’re unbelievable,” he muttered against her lips, his voice low and filled with need.

“you’re one to talk,” she shot back, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him in for another kiss.

trent chuckled softly, his lips curling into a smirk. “you’re gonna be the death of me, y/n.”

“maybe,” she whispered, her voice teasing, her breath warm against his skin. “but what a way to go.”

and just like that, they were lost again, their lips crashing together as the night stretched out before them, filled with nothing but the sound of their breaths, their whispers, and the unspoken promise of something neither of them could deny anymore.

the morning after was a blur for y/n. she woke up wrapped in the warmth of the sheets, a soft light filtering through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. everything felt surreal. the scent of trent still lingered on her skin, a reminder of last night—the kisses, the touches, the way everything had shifted between them. she felt like she was floating, as if her feet weren’t quite touching the ground.

it was the kind of happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time. for the first time in ages, y/n felt at peace, like she was exactly where she needed to be. in that moment, nothing mattered except the way trent’s body had fit so perfectly with hers, how she had melted into him, and how, for a few hours, the world had felt small and warm and right.

but as she shifted slightly, rolling onto her side to look at him, the cloud of happiness hanging over her began to crack. trent was still asleep beside her, his body relaxed, the soft rise and fall of his chest calming her own heart. he looked peaceful, his hair a little mussed, his face softened by sleep.

y/n sat up slowly, her fingers running through her hair as she tried to collect her thoughts. she shouldn’t have let herself get this carried away. the night had been amazing, but it was just that—one night. she could already feel the walls inside her starting to rebuild, the defense mechanisms she’d spent years perfecting slowly creeping back.

her heart skipped a beat when trent stirred, stretching lazily before his eyes fluttered open. he blinked a few times, his gaze softening when he saw her sitting there, still in a haze, the warmth of the room reflecting in her eyes.

“morning,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep, a half smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“morning,” she murmured, her own voice hoarse, though she tried to hide it.

he shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her more fully. “you sleep well?”

she nodded, her heart in her throat. “yeah. better than I have in a while.”

his smile widened, but there was something distant in his gaze—something that made y/n’s stomach tighten. he seemed content, comfortable, and in that moment, she couldn’t help but think about the words that had been left unspoken.

“good,” trent said, his voice soft, almost absent. he seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment before he finally broke the silence.

“it was... good, last night,” he said, sitting up slightly, his hand brushing through his hair. there was a casualness in his tone, an almost too-casual air that made y/n's chest tighten. “just a... casual thing, right?” he added, his eyes meeting hers, but there was an unreadable expression on his face, like he was waiting for her response, as though he wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

y/n froze. her breath caught in her throat, and for a long moment, she couldn’t find the words. she had imagined this conversation would go differently, but she hadn’t prepared herself for the weight of it.

“yeah,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. she couldn’t bring herself to correct him—not when the truth was that part of her wanted it to be more, but she couldn’t say that. not yet. not when she wasn’t sure what this even meant.

he looked at her with a faint smile, his expression light, almost relieved. “right,” he said, as if it had all been settled in his mind. he reached over to the bedside table, grabbing his phone and scrolling through something, clearly shifting his attention. it made y/n’s heart sink, the distance between them suddenly feeling so much wider than it had been last night.

“i’m glad we’re on the same page,” trent muttered, his eyes still on his phone, though y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing now.

the weight of his words hung in the air like a cold draft, and y/n had to look away, pretending like it didn’t sting, pretending like she wasn’t suddenly questioning everything she thought she’d felt. she had known the risks—known that trent was the type to keep things casual—but for some reason, hearing him say it out loud, so casually, made her chest ache.

“me too,” y/n said quietly, her voice barely audible even to herself.

trent didn’t notice the shift in her mood, still distracted with whatever was on his phone. y/n tried to steady her breath, trying not to let the hurt show on her face. it wasn’t about him, not really—it was about her. she had let herself get caught up in something, and now, she was paying the price for it.

the silence stretched on, the weight of it pressing down on y/n’s shoulders. she felt like she was suffocating under the pressure of her own emotions. she had given him a piece of herself last night, something she rarely did, and now it felt like it meant nothing to him.

“well,” trent said after a moment, breaking the silence with an air of finality, “we should probably get ready for the day. the yacht club waits for no one.”

y/n froze, his words cutting through her like ice. the yacht club. of course. not a casual day to relax or something intimate—it was always about appearances.

she nodded, forcing a smile she didn’t feel. “yeah, of course.”

she stood up from the bed, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling cold suddenly despite the warmth of the room. trent didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in whatever was on his phone, and y/n couldn’t help but feel like a fool. she had wanted this to be different. but now, she realized just how much of it had been her own hopes clouding her judgment.

as she walked to the bathroom, she couldn’t stop the way her heart clenched. trent’s words echoed in her mind, over and over again. just a casual thing, right?

and for the first time in a long time, y/n felt the weight of being undeserving of anything more.

y/n felt the bile rise in her throat as she walked into the bathroom, her hands shaking as she gripped the sink. the weight of what had just happened hit her like a wrecking ball. she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. how had she let herself get here again? she had convinced herself it was different this time, that it was more than just another one-night thing. but the moment trent had spoken those words, it all came crashing down.

it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her, leaving her sinking into an abyss of sadness and self-loathing. the warmth of the bed, of his arms around her, felt like a lie now. she had let herself feel too much, let herself believe in something that wasn’t real. and she had been so stupid. she had fallen for it again. she had given him everything—her body, her heart, her trust—and all he had done was take it.

her stomach turned, and she leaned over the sink, the tears welling up, blurring her reflection in the mirror. how could she have been so foolish?

the realization hit her like a wave crashing onto rocks. she was just another hookup. it was the same story, over and over again, with every guy she let close. they take what they want, and then they walk away, leaving her broken and used.

she stood there for what felt like an eternity, the sobs wracking her body, her chest tight with the weight of the heartbreak that felt so familiar but still so crushing. why couldn’t she be enough?

by the time trent was out of the shower and getting dressed, y/n had managed to pull herself together, wiping away the tears and quickly splashing cold water on her face, trying to hide the redness. but the heaviness in her chest was undeniable. she couldn’t bear to face him right now. how could she look at him? how could she pretend she was okay when all she wanted to do was cry?

when he entered the room, still pulling on his shirt and looking distracted, he paused when he noticed she wasn’t moving, still standing by the window, staring out at the bright monaco skyline, as if she were miles away.

“hey,” trent said, his voice light, but there was a hint of concern when he noticed how quiet she was. “you okay?”

y/n didn’t turn around. she kept her back to him, her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the window frame. she couldn’t bring herself to face him right now. how could she, when all she felt was emptiness and betrayal?

“yeah, I just… I don’t feel well,” she finally said, her voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the fragile hold she had on herself. “I’m… I’m going to stay back.”

trent was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was gentle but tinged with confusion. “oh,” trent said, straightening his cuffs. “you sure? the yacht club’s one of the best of monaco. it’s your chance to experience it to the fillies. it’s gonna be fun—you don’t want to miss it.”

her chance? the words stung, but she swallowed it down, forcing her voice to stay steady. “I’m too sick, trent. I’m sorry.”

there was a pause, then a small sigh from him. y/n could hear him walking over to his bag, zipping it up, the sound of his movements in the background. “alright,” he said, his tone softening just a little. “if you’re sure. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“feel better, okay?” he added, while press ing a chaste kiss on her head and y/n could hear the lightness in his voice, like he had already moved past whatever this moment was. just a casual thing, right?

she didn’t respond. didn’t want to. didn’t have it in her.

when she heard the door close behind him, the tears that had been held back finally broke free. she sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, letting herself fall apart completely. the ache in her chest was unbearable. how many times would she let herself be treated like this?

the day stretched on as she lay there, heartbroken and hollow, crying uncontrollably. she didn’t care that it was race day. she didn’t care that the sun was shining, that monaco was alive with excitement. all that mattered was the silence left in the wake of trent’s absence.

y/n let herself cry, letting the sadness and the anger and the betrayal flood out of her. how had she let herself get this far, let herself care about him, only to have him walk away like it meant nothing?

the feeling of being nothing but a fleeting moment, something to pass the time, was suffocating. she had wanted so much more. but once again, she wasn’t worth more than a casual fling, a one-night thing.

and with each passing second, the hole inside her seemed to grow bigger, deeper. she thought about what she had done, how she had let herself believe in something that had never really been there. how had she been so naive?

she buried her face in the pillow, silently pleading with herself to stop, to let it go—but it was too late. everything had already broken. and now, all she could do was cry.

trent leaned against the railing of a yacht in monaco, his eyes scanning the turquoise waters as a warm breeze ruffled his shirt. the city’s energy hummed around him—laughing voices, the rev of engines, the clink of glasses—but it barely registered. he had busied himself for days, hopping between events, brushing shoulders with national teammates and celebrities, pretending to enjoy the chaos of the grand prix weekend. yet, there was a persistent knot in his chest, one he couldn’t shake.

it always came back to her.

he hadn’t heard from y/n since that morning when she said she wasn’t feeling well. she hadn’t replied to his texts or picked up his calls, and the silence was starting to eat at him. at first, he chalked it up to her needing space. after all,

the words echoed in his head like a taunt now. he frowned, taking a sip of his drink as one of his teammates clapped him on the back, dragging him into conversation. “where’s y/n?” the guy asked, looking around. “figured she’d be glued to your side this weekend.”

trent’s jaw tightened. “she wasn’t feeling well. stayed back at the hotel,” he replied evenly, though the words felt hollow.

“shame. she’s stunning, mate. i’m a huge fan. didn’t know you had it in you to land someone like that,” another player teased, grinning. “i can tell your whipped for her”

the question hit trent harder than it should have. he forced a chuckle, brushing it off with a noncommittal shrug. “just keeping it light, you know?” the words tasted bitter, but he said them anyway. it’s what people expected from him, wasn’t it? detached, easygoing, never tied down.

but as the hours dragged on, the usual distractions didn’t work. by the time he returned to the hotel, his patience was fraying. the suite was silent, the air eerily still. his eyes immediately fell on her phone, sitting abandoned on the nightstand. his heart sank.

she wouldn’t just leave without her phone, would she?

panic began to creep in as he moved through the room, checking for any sign of her. her bag was gone, but the small, familiar things she always carried—her lip gloss, a half-full water bottle, a pair of sunglasses—were still scattered around. it was like she’d vanished mid-thought.

trent sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand over his face. his mind raced with questions. where had she gone? why hadn’t she said anything?

this wasn’t him. this frantic, restless feeling—it wasn’t who he was. he was always the one in control, the one who kept his distance. but now, with y/n’s absence hanging heavy in the air, he felt like he was losing his grip.

he picked up her phone, staring at the blank screen as if it could give him answers. her last message played on a loop in his head: i’m not feeling well. had he missed something? had she been trying to tell him more?

his stomach twisted as guilt settled in. the memory of her standing by the window that morning, her back to him, came flooding back. she’d been quiet, distant, but he hadn’t pushed. he’d taken her words at face value and left, convincing himself that giving her space was the right thing to do.

but what if it wasn’t?

trent stood abruptly, pacing the room as his frustration mounted. this was the opposite of what he’d promised himself. he didn’t get attached. he didn’t let anyone in enough to feel like this—unmoored, desperate, helpless. but y/n had slipped past every defense he’d put up, and now, with her gone, the void she left behind was unbearable.

he grabbed his phone, scrolling through their messages, rereading her last text for the tenth time. his fingers hovered over the call button, but he knew it wouldn’t help. her phone was here. wherever she was, she didn’t want him to find her.

the thought sent a sharp pang through his chest. trent sank back onto the bed, his head in his hands, as the weight of it all hit him. he had no idea where y/n was, no way to reach her, and the realization was suffocating.

for the first time in as long as he could remember, trent felt completely out of control. and it terrified him.

the night in monaco felt different to y/n. the glamour of the city, the lights flickering like stars above her, did nothing to lift the heaviness that had settled in her chest. it had been building all day, the weight of the realization that she was just another fleeting moment to trent. she felt like she was suffocating under it.

trent, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious. before he left, he tried to pull her closer, but she didn’t respond in the way he expected. there was no playful teasing, no soft laughter—just a wall between them, one he couldn’t see, one she had built up with all the hurt she felt.

as she left the room, her heart felt like it was breaking all over again. she stepped out into the cool, crisp night air, breathing in deeply, trying to steady herself. the streets were alive with the hum of activity, but it felt like the world was moving in slow motion around her. she had been here before—alone, questioning everything, wondering how she always ended up in the same place. why was she always the one left behind?

she wandered down the streets, her footsteps echoing against the cobblestones, each one feeling heavier than the last. she walked with no real destination, just trying to distance herself from the hotel, from trent, from everything that had happened.

eventually, she found herself near the docks, an alcove tucked away from the busy streets. she sat down, letting her legs dangle over the edge, staring out at the water. the calmness of the sea did nothing to ease the storm inside her. her heart felt raw, exposed, vulnerable. she had given so much, trusted so much, and for what? another empty promise?

how did she get here again?

y/n thought back to the way she had felt when she first met trent, how easy it had all seemed. it was different then, right? but now, the more she thought about it, the more it all felt like a game to him. she had wanted to believe in the tenderness, in the soft words they shared, but in the end, it was just another night. another night of being used, being tossed aside.

and for what?

her mind kept going in circles, the same questions, the same doubts. had she meant anything to him? or was she just a distraction, a pretty face to keep him entertained while he was away from his usual life? she wanted to believe that they had something real, but everything he had done—everything he hadn’t done—told her otherwise.

a tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly, embarrassed by how weak she felt. this wasn’t her. she had always been strong, always been the one who kept her heart guarded, kept it safe. so why had she let him in? why had she been so stupid, so naive?

she stared down at the water, her reflection barely visible in the ripples. did she really become forgotten once again?

a deep sigh escaped her lips as she pulled her knees to her chest, curling in on herself. her heart was a heavy weight in her chest, a burden she couldn’t shake, no matter how hard she tried. all the walls she had built around herself seemed to have crumbled with trent, and now she was left standing in the ruins, wondering if she would ever be able to rebuild.

she stayed there for what felt like hours, just lost in her own thoughts, until the sounds of the docks started to fade, and the city’s lights blurred into the distance. her mind was spinning, her heart aching, and no matter how much she tried to focus on anything else, all she could think about was how much she had trusted him—and how much it hurt to realize that trust had been misplaced.

finally, she stood, her legs shaky from sitting so long. she didn’t want to go back to the hotel, didn’t want to face him, but she had no choice. her steps were slow, heavy, as if the weight of the night had settled into her bones. she wasn’t sure what she was going back to—more lies, more pain, more broken promises. but she knew one thing for sure: she had to face him, even if her heart was already shattered beyond repair.

y/n stepped through the lobby doors of the hotel, her body heavy with exhaustion. the night air clung to her skin, and though monaco's glitz and glamour buzzed outside, she felt none of it. her hands were shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket, and her head hung low, a visible shield against the world.

the elevator ride felt interminable, and when the doors opened to their suite, she braced herself. trent was sitting on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly. the moment he saw her, his head snapped up, relief flashing across his face before it quickly hardened into something sharper.

"where the hell have you been?" his voice was low but taut, like he was holding himself together by a thread.

y/n didn’t answer immediately, her fingers working at the hem of her jacket as she stepped inside, letting the door click softly shut behind her.

"seriously, y/n. you left your phone here. you disappeared for hours, and we—" he paused, standing now, his brows furrowing. "we had appearances today. i tried calling you. multiple times.”

she shrugged, the movement slow and detached. "guess i forgot." her voice was soft, void of its usual spark, and she avoided his gaze entirely as she walked further into the room.

"forgot?" trent repeated, disbelief laced with irritation. "this isn’t just about forgetting your phone, y/n. you were gone. i didn’t know where you were. do you have any idea—" he stopped himself, exhaling sharply. "you can’t just disappear like that. especially not today."

"oh, right," she said bitterly, finally looking up at him. her expression was tired, but her voice carried a quiet sting. "the appearances. i forgot that’s what this was."

trent froze, her words sinking in like a stone thrown into still water. she wasn’t yelling or defensive; she sounded… defeated. like she didn’t even have the energy to fight him.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" he asked, his tone softening slightly.

she let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. "it doesn’t matter, trent. i was gone. i’m back. let’s just drop it, yeah?"

"no," he said firmly, stepping closer to her, his eyes searching her face. "no, i’m not dropping it. you’ve been off since this morning, and now you’re acting like this whole thing doesn’t matter. what’s going on with you?"

"nothing," she said quickly, too quickly. "i’m just tired."

but trent wasn’t convinced. the way her shoulders slumped, the way her voice wavered—it wasn’t just tiredness. it was something deeper. and it didn’t sit right with him.

"y/n," he started, his voice quieter now, but she cut him off.

"i’m fine, trent. just let it go." she moved past him, heading toward the bedroom, her movements sluggish.

he stood there for a moment, watching her retreating form, his frustration mingling with concern. this wasn’t like her. she wasn’t just fine—he could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. something was wrong, and it gnawed at him that she wouldn’t let him in.

“you’re not fine,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face. he wanted to push, to demand answers, but the way she had looked at him just now—like the fight had already drained out of her—made him pause.

in that moment, for the first time in forever, trent felt completely unsure of what to do. and it terrified him.

the hum of the plane was constant, filling the quiet tension between them. trent sat in the aisle seat, his elbows resting on the armrests as he stole glances at y/n beside him. she was pressed up against the window, her headphones on, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of clouds outside. her face was void of its usual light, her features distant and unreadable.

he had tried to speak to her earlier, but every attempt was met with short, clipped responses, or worse—silence. and now, watching her, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was deeply wrong.

she hadn’t been herself since monaco, since—

trent stopped his thoughts abruptly, shifting in his seat. he didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to believe that that night had anything to do with this. everything had seemed fine until then.

“you sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly, leaning closer, his voice cutting through the low hum of the cabin.

y/n didn’t turn to him. didn’t even flinch. she simply nodded, her fingers fidgeting with her headphones. “i’m fine,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.

but she wasn’t fine, and he knew it.

“you’ve been quiet,” he said, his tone careful, like he was afraid of pushing too hard. “more than usual. is it something i said? something i did?”

her chest tightened at his words, her stomach twisting painfully. she shook her head, still staring out of the window. “it’s nothing, trent. just tired.”

tired. she kept saying that, like it could explain the hollowness he saw in her eyes, the way she avoided his gaze, the way she had disappeared without a word in monaco.

trent leaned back in his seat, his jaw tightening. he hated this, hated not knowing how to fix whatever had gone wrong. “you disappeared for hours,” he said softly, almost to himself. “i thought something happened to you.”

“i’m here now,” she said quietly, her voice devoid of emotion.

“but you weren’t,” he pressed, frustration creeping into his tone. “you just left. didn’t tell me where you were going, didn’t answer your phone. and now—” he stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “now you’re acting like i don’t even exist.”

her throat tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. acting like he doesn’t exist. she wished he didn’t, wished she could erase the memory of his hands on her skin, his voice murmuring soft words in the dark. but it was there, imprinted on her, and it made her feel sick.

she closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to stay composed. “i said i’m fine, trent. can we just drop it?”

but he couldn’t drop it. not when every instinct told him that she was hurting, that something was deeply wrong. “you can’t just shut me out like this,” he said, his voice low but firm. “i care about you, y/n. i—”

“stop,” she cut him off, finally turning to face him. her eyes met his for the first time, and the pain in them made his chest ache. “please, just stop.”

trent stared at her, his words caught in his throat. he didn’t understand. everything had been fine. better than fine. they had laughed, talked, connected in a way that felt natural, effortless. and then—

then they had slept together.

he pushed the thought away again, refusing to believe that it was the cause of this sudden shift. but the way she looked at him now, like being near him was unbearable, made doubt creep into his mind.

when the plane landed, y/n stood quickly, grabbing her bag and avoiding his gaze as she moved toward the exit. trent followed close behind, his mind racing.

outside the terminal, the cold uk air hit them like a slap. trent pulled his jacket tighter around himself, watching as y/n stood a few feet away, her arms crossed, her eyes downcast.

“so… what now?” he asked, his voice cautious.

she glanced at him briefly, her expression guarded. “i’ll be busy for a while. i need to work on the album.”

“busy?” he repeated, frowning. “for how long?”

“i don’t know,” she said, her voice flat. “a while.”

trent’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “y/n, can you just—”

“trent, please,” she interrupted, her voice cracking slightly. she swallowed hard, shaking her head. “i can’t do this right now.”

he stared at her, the words dying on his tongue. there was something final in her tone, something that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“is this about monaco?” he asked finally, his voice quiet.

her body stiffened, and she let out a shaky breath, her eyes darting to the ground. she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see the tears that threatened to spill.

“i have to go,” she said instead, her voice barely above a whisper. she turned away before he could respond, her steps quick and purposeful.

trent watched her go, his chest tightening with a mix of confusion and helplessness. he didn’t understand what had gone wrong, didn’t know how to fix it. but as he stood there, the weight of her absence already settling over him, one thing was clear—this wasn’t just about monaco.

trent watched her walk away, the hollow space between them growing wider, feeling the unsettling ache of losing something he didn’t fully understand.

next

you're not proud to admit that you still stalk your ex-boyfriend's friends on social media just to see a glimpse of him. it wasn’t that hard considering that you live in liverpool, if you wanted to see his face you just had to go outside and he will be there in any billboard. but there was something more personal about casually watching him on someone’s post. sometimes you just look up liverpool’s account to see him during matches or making fun challenges.

you consider blocking him, blocking his friends and everyone else remotely associated with him, you even did it for two full weeks, but it was impossible not to see him everywhere you look. sure, he was not showing up on your phone, but he was in the streets, he was on the tv playing a game, or acting in a random commercial; he was even in the supermarket next to a product he was the face of.

trent alexander-arnold was absolutely everywhere and he was impossible to escape.

so you unblock him and everyone else and you just see him. not everyday, of course, you weren’t gonna get over him if you stalked his socials every day.  maybe once every week you look up one account, and then another, and then another, and you see him, and once you do you turn your phone off and do something else and maybe, you forget about him for a moment.

sometimes you wonder what would happen if your eyes met one more time. would you realize you got over him? would you fall back in love? would he even say hello?

“what can i get you?” the barista behind the counter asks you.

“hi, an iced vanilla latte, please.” you smile. the guy nods and charges you, moving quickly to the next client.

you sit down in a booth while waiting for your name to be called, and play with your phone in the meantime. suddenly, a huge shadow blocks the natural light that was hitting your face and you shift your face from your phone to the stranger who sits in front of you, only it wasn’t a stranger at all.

“y/n.” trent whispers your name with a smile.

you were a bit shocked to see him in person, like it was the first time you lay your eyes on him all over again.

“hey.” you respond. he chuckles at your lack of words.

“i knew it was you the second i heard your voice.” he points at the register. “an iced vanilla latte as always.” he repeats your coffee order and only then you register the situation.

before you have a chance to say something, you hear your name being called throughout the whole coffee shop, announcing your order was ready.

“stay there.” he says before you have the chance to even stand up. “i’ll go get it.” you didn’t know what to say so you just nodded and he made his way to the front, claiming your coffee and getting it to you.

“thank you.” you say when he was finally in front of you again.

neither of you say anything for a few seconds. you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, but it did feel odd to be there with him, not saying anything.

“nice jacket.” you mention, just to fill the silence.

“you like it?” he unconsciously touch it and smiles at you like he always did.

“mhm, it's pretty.” you take a sip from your coffee.

“i haven’t seen you in a while. how are you?” he asks.

you were about to answer when you got interrupted again by the barista calling his name to get his coffee. he quickly made his way to the front and back, sitting in your booth in no time.

“what is that?” you ask with a grimace, looking at his order. it was some sort of juice? you couldn’t really tell.

“it’s a pomegranate lemonade.” he shrugs. you arch a brow and he shakes his head smiling. “don’t look at me like that when you drink vanilla flavored coffee.”

a laugh escapes your lips and you just agree, still confused by his drink of choice but not making any more comments.

“how are you?” he repeats his question.

“good.” you lie to him. “you?”

“bad.” he says.

“oh?” this took you by surprise. “what happened?” you try to remember if maybe he lost any big game recently or if something happened to any friend of his, but you can’t remember anything of relevance.

“i just…” he exhales and takes a sip from his lemonade. “i’ve been missing you. a lot, actually. a bit more everyday.”

your face grows hotter by the confession and you just look at him without reacting.

“why are you saying this?” you ask the first thing that comes to your mind.

“because.” he shrugs. “why not? i’ve miss you so much since we broke up i can’t think of anything else, and now i feel like i’ve think you so much i actually manifested you and now we're both at the same coffee shop at the same time, i mean, what are the odds of that, you know?” he rambles and you feel your heart beating in your throat.

to be fair, this was the same coffee shop you both used to go to while you were still dating. and you both still live in the same city. and you’ve been stalking him on social media so you might’ve manifested him as well by accident.

“you woke up brave this morning, didn’t you?” you joke lightly and the shadow of a smile takes over his lips. “i didn’t know you still think about me.” you say instead of confessing your feelings back at him.

“you’re not an easy one to forget.” his eyes clocked in with yours and you felt like everything was the way it used to be.

why did you even break up in the first place? looking at his chocolate eyes you couldn’t even remember anymore. you finally clear your throat to speak, but he interrupts you.

“you don’t have to say anything right now,” he pleads. “i don’t… if you’re gonna say something that’s gonna break my heart for good, i don’t think i’m prepared to hear it just yet.”

his eyes look away from yours, but you’re still watching him.

“i think about you too.”

your voice was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear it and look at your eyes, straight into your soul.

“we should talk, no?” you knew he was battling a triumphant smile but he kept a straight face for you. you nod. “wanna take a walk?” he points to the window with his head, but you shake your head.

“it’s too cold outside.” you say and he laughs, shaking his head as well.

“you and cold.” he rolls his eyes amused.

“hey.” you slap his arm playfully. “i have sensitive skin.” you defend yourself.

you just nodded to whatever the waitress was saying. though she could have done with less ogglying at your date. your trent. 

you take pride in knowing your his go to, his best friend, his #1. you've been by his side longer than you can remember being without. he's your other half in every sense. before the fame and money, lavish life and dwindling time. he's always been yours somehow. 

maybe you should've known at some point that feelings were bound to be brewing. 

everyone and their mother had told you. hell, even your own mother had told you so. but you waved them off. he's my friend, no trent is my best friend, ew no that would be so weird, i can't even stand hin on a good day, he's annoying, nope just friends. 

now look at you. seated across from each other, his sleeves rolled up while you eat in candle light. the dark blue drapery of the establishment makes this feel way more intimate than needed. and the chandeliers that hang over your head are enough to make you stare in wonder. 

his sharp features almost soften like this, tucked away in a far corner away from prodding eyes and unnecessary media attention. where it's only the two of you in your little bubble, and the soft live piano that travels from the main foye. you enjoy this, but mainly you enjoy him. 

you noticed he cleaned up his facial hair for this, it makes your heart melt. the silver jewelry that shines on his golden skin is a mirror of the silver that drapes across you. he told you to wear silver. the maniac. he planned this all the way down to the damn jewelry. 

(the both of you are matching in general, which makes you feel something closer to insanity, it gives you a thrill when people’s gazes wash over the two of you and they can so easily tell you are here together. for each other. the stares you got while walking in don't go unforgotten.)

he's the one who dragged you to this restaurant, one much more fancy that you care for. any establishment that calls for floor length dresses to eat is above you, but he insisted. even taking time to tell you how stunning you looked on the way here. your cheeks were on fire the whole time you tried to come up with a counter, failing miserably and just telling him he looked handsome too. 

what a gentleman, driving you here and keeping a hand on yours the whole time. you were sweating the whole time. this whole thing is new to you. but you try not to explode while you sit across from him, sipping on your water to avoid eye contact. 

trent pretends to suddenly be very interested in the silverware, but you don't miss the way his gaze still manages to shift over to you, landing somewhere between your eyes and lips.

you sigh loudly, your appetite disappearing while you push your plate in front of you. 

"do not even start." he warns, fork raised and pointed at you. 

"i didn't even do anything ! what's with you tonight. "

"could ask you the same thing," he mumbles between mouthfuls of his steak, "you're being, very weird."

"im on a dinner date with you how else do you want me to act."

he coughs awkwardly at this, "i don't know ! normally. you haven't made fun of my shoes yet. where's the old grouchy evil and conniving friend i know. you're too, " he waves his fork in the air trying to find the right word, "civil."

you snort, "that's a mouthful. i don't know this whole dynamic shift is taking a while to get used to, " you shrug.

"we need to stop saying i don't know so often." he sighs, rubbing his eyes aggressively. 

you choose to ignore that bit, "and i need to be civil in public or your adoring fans might have my head."

he rolls his eyes, "that's a stretch."

you wave him off with a hand, "you never know. crazy people do crazy things."

he looks at you fondly at this, giving you one of his signature smiles, you look away and change the subject as fast as you can think. you don't need weak knees in a high end establishment. 

"you know i would've been just fine with takeout and a movie." you mumble softly.

he gives you a soft look " i know, but i wanted to make it special. take you out somewhere nice for a change. we never do that."

"you're not going to let me pay are you?" you muse.

he gives you a look, "im offended you even brought that up. i hope you know you're never going to be paying for things ever again right."

"and i hope you know i'm going to fight you over it the whole way through."

he finds this amusing, "yeah yeah yeah shut up and eat your food, i think my socks are sliding off my foot."

"i don't want to hear about your sweaty foot while i eat trent, gross." you fake gag. 

"cry about it." he dead pans. 

you narrow your eyes at him, "i'm going to talk about the pimple i popped on my shoulder, in great detail. is that what you want?"

"ew gross hell no. no more socks or feet geez." he scoffs. 

you cackle, "problem solved then."

he rolls his eyes but goes back to eating anyway, cutting his steak with way too much force than necessary. 

you on the other hand have to play tug of war with the fabric of your dress in order to keep it where you want it. 

"you want to leave don't you?" he comments. 

"that obvious?" he nods, "yep," popping the p.

"i don't want it to seem like I'm ungrateful for the effort or anything, because i swear it's not like that. i'm happy to be with you regardless and yeah. we don't have to leave." you try to explain. 

as much as you enjoy spending time with him this isn't your scene. you're aching to go home, and so are you poor ankles. these heels can only be worn for so long and they are coming up on their expiration date for the night. maybe trent can help take them- no fuck. bad. bad bad. this is a dinner, you're at dinner be civil. 

trent seems to be none the wiser as his attention remains on you. 

"why would we stay if you don't want to ?" he looks at you confused, brows drawn together, arm propped up against the table while he waits for an explanation. 

"because you're the one who wanted to come here?" "so? if you wanna go home then we'll go home."

home. oh. he's starting to refer to his house as home. for the both of you. that does something to you, you're almost dizzy. god how can one person be so sweet. 

"we can finish up and head home? i really don't mind." you suggest. 

he hums at this, "alright then. we’re stopping by the chinese place you like so much, you didn't even eat. "

"to be fair, the portions are the size of my pinkie and i think they took too much creative liberty in the kitchen." you wrinkle your nose. 

he giggles, that shy little spurt of laughter, the one you love so much and always try to coax out of him, "i forget the flavors can be uh, adventurous with most of their dishes. "

you chuckle, "definitely adventurous."

he flags down the waitress from earlier who bats her eyelashes one too many times at him while you roll your eyes. he gives you a glare while he pays, before you can open your mouth. while you get up, dusting your dress down, he presses you flush to him, effectively shutting down any advances. you can't help but grin at the little act. even if your skin is on fire from the contact.

your lead out the back by one of the valets to avoid the busy main section and the endless cameras that wait for you from the front.

you step out to a colder night than you expected, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to warm yourself up. the valet steps away to retrieve his car while you shiver harder than a skeleton animatronic in a halloween pop up store. 

trent notices, coming up behind you to wrap both arms around your waist, pulling you close. 

"cold?" he has the nerve to ask, flush against you and the damn dress that clings against your skin, his breath tickles your ear while you lick your lips nervously. his arms are much more muscular up close. the whole of him is, you can feel the efforts of his training as they hold you. good lord you're going to lose your mind. and the chest you're pressed up against? do not.

"a little." you whisper back, afraid to say much more.  

he hums, rubbing your arms for you, sending goosebumps all the way down your spine, and he has the audacity to chuckle at your reaction. 

"cars gonna be here soon."

you can only nod dumbly.

he unlatches when the car comes into view. thanking the man with a clap on shoulder, almost like an old friend, and a generous tip.

he opens the door for you, holding his arm out to help you balance, sweet of him. 

you duck inside while he says his last thanks and goodbyes to the valet, turning on the heat first thing when he gets inside. 

the drive is silent, not much to talk about after you confessed your love to each other just days before. 

you could almost laugh at the complete 180 from this week to the last. youre so so glad it ended up this way nonetheless. you don't think you could handle another second suffering in silence. 

how it all went down makes you cry in full honesty. it was an argument. over fucking instagram. you were bitching about the girls who are on his dick and he called you over protective and you defended yourself because duh. that somehow had spiraled into how he's insane, and then your relationship. and then you stormed out, don't ask, you don't remember. 

he tracked you down at your place with flowers as an apology and you just lost it, because what kind of friend gets flowers and calls in just platonic?

lucky for the both of you it wasnt platonic, not to him, not to you. 

he confessed first, that you were more important to him than any of the women he follows combined and so much more. you're his everything can't you see that? he loves you, in every sense. he hates seeing you upset so please, don't cry. 

you kissed him, slow and hesitant while he broke out in giggles. 

"does that mean what i think it does ?" he had whispered against your lips. 

you nodded, shy and tender. 

"i need to hear it. please, say it." breathless, at the cusp of losing his grip on everything. 

"i love you trent, more than i think i can explain. you are my other half yeah? my everything."

and so here you are, watching the shapes of the city breeze past you as the gps guides you to your beloved chinese take out. you can almost taste the noodles you're so ready for it you're starving. 

a hand rests on your thigh, softly tracing shapes the rest of the way there and you hide a smile. you don't think you'll ever get used to any of this new found affection. things you once only day dreamed of having now right in front of you.

you're drowsy by the time you pull into the familiar parking lot. you giggle at just how ridiculous the two of you look. stepping out of a probably hundred thousand dollar car, if not more. dressed like you're going to the ballon d'or. all while walking into a quiet little family own take out spot. 

trent takes your hand again, while you fight to bunch up your dress to get over the obnoxious curve. 

he fights a smile while locking the car behind you. 

"you try getting over this mountain in heels and this long ass dress i dare you." you hiss. 

he snorts but keeps his mouth shut as you inside the familiar space. sighing in glee. 

the kind older woman who always takes your orders doesn't bat an eye at your dress, but welcomes you with a warm hug. 

“the usual?” she beams, even at this time of night. cheery as ever. 

“yes please !”

she smiles, getting to work making your order while you drum against your thigh. bad habit. 

you’re very thankful it’s as late as it is, the place is dead empty. a little safe haven. 

you reach into your purse but mr “i’ll pay for it all” stops you. 

you tsk, “come on this is my spot. i want to tip her well. let me at least have this after that fancy meal.”

“i said i would pay,” he states firmly. 

“i know, but paying here is special to me. and i want it to come from my hand. she deserves it after all the kindness she’s shown to me over the years.” you gesture to her wrapping up your boxes. 

you remember when you used to be a student low on cash, she would always fill your plate with double of everything or just give you the next size up, and extra dessert, free drink. the little things, life is all about the little things. 

he sighs, “fine fine. i won’t take this away from you. “

you smile, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. he waits for you on the side while you go up to the counter. 

she smiles at you knowingly, “finally made a move on that one huh?” 

you blush, “we both made moves and things worked out well. “

she grins, “finally. i thought it would never happen, you know. maybe i’ll get to see your kids too huh?”

you chuckle, kids with trent huh. not a bad idea, “maybe you will.” you sigh fondly. handing her the money. 

you hand a few boxes to trent and motion to the door before she catches on. but it’s a little late. 

you sneak out of there while she’s yelling at you to take your change, “keep it ! it’s all for you !!” you shout back. giggling while you and trent make your escape. 

the ride to his house is filled with laughter and you don’t ever remember being happier. 

its all giggles and shy smiles as he leads you up to his home, hand in hand while you race up the steps and make a dash for the elevator. the door man gives you too a look but doesn’t comment, yet. you know he will sooner or later but you don’t care. 

the take out boxes are split in between the two of you as you hold them snug against your chest. humming softly as the elevator opens. 

the ride up is filled with soft teasing, and more compliments. 

"im serious!" he shoves you gently, "you look, incredible." 

your face burns with enough heat to power an oven, his words do a number on you and all you want is to hear them over and over. but you don't say this. 

"you look so handsome trent." is all you find to reply back. 

a shy smile is what you get in return as the elevator opens. the walk is familiar but your feet are making it feel much longer than needed. 

he opens the door and you dont waste a second collapsing on his couch, groaning at the pressure finally being off your feet. he takes the boxes from your hands and sets them on the living room table, kicking his shoes off somewhere as he organizes them just how you like. 

"eat first then change?" he takes a seat next to you. 

you shake your head, "don't wanna ruin the dress."

"alright," he nods

you attempt to get up but your feet are swollen by the looks of it and you could cry at the though of taking another step in these damned heels. 

you reach over carefully to begin the effort of getting them of you but holy fuck is it taking much longer than needed.

"you're taking so long," he groans, scooting down to raise right ankle to rest gently in his knee, hands working slowly. 

you sigh in sweet sweet relief when the intricate lacing finally comes undone and your foot can breathe. he does the same to the left, bringing it up to rest against your right.

 your head falls back against the couch cushions, eyes closed and relaxed. it gives you a moment to really appreciate it all. to appreciate him. 

you crack your eyes open when he gives your leg a gentle tap, all done. 

you swing your feet back to the ground, scooting up closer to him. it's a beat of silence where he watches you, wait for your move. and you press gentle kisses on both cheeks, then nose, one on his forehead, and finally his lips. 

he can't keep his hands to himself at the end, a hand finds your waist, tugging you closer to him, impossibly close. the other cups your cheek gently. 

you won't part till you run out of air, panting gently against each other's skin.

"thank you." you mumble against his lips.

he hums, "anything for you. you know what."