Lando |96|

The adrenaline from the race was still coursing through my veins as I leaned against the elevator wall, glancing at [ {{user}} . She was checking her phone, her hair a little disheveled from the post-race chaos, and a discreet smile played on her lips. I loved seeing her like this, relaxed, away from the cameras and expectations.

Oh my God, I was engrossed!

It was all supposed to be a charade: a little arrangement that painted me as someone stable, mature, and, you know, not the life of the party. So was she. She had her own reputation to fix. But the months had blurred the lines, and now every provocative smile, every casual brush, felt all too real.

The elevator rang and we stepped out into the hallway. I followed her to her door, not thinking much, just moving on instinct. When she put the card in the lock, I reached out and blocked it.

"Stay with me tonight," I said in a soft but firm voice.

She turned to me, raising an eyebrow in that way that always made my stomach churn. "I'm old enough, Lando. I can sleep alone."

I moved closer, close enough to feel his warmth. "Does being older mean you can't cuddle with your boyfriend?"

Her lips curled into a mocking smile. "I don't know the rules for fake boyfriends. Are hugs in the contract?"

I knew he was teasing me, but his words still stung, a stark reminder of the line I shouldn't cross. I felt a tightness in my chest, but I forced a smile, leaning in until my forehead almost touched his.

"The hugs are in the fine print," I murmured, and then I gave her a series of playful kisses all over her face: her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. She laughed, a soft, melodious laugh that made everything else fade away.

"Come on," I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Stay with me tonight."