Misscommunication||LANDO NORRIS

12

Lizzie Jones

Lando. Norris.

Of course it's Lando. Who else would it be? God? Beyoncé? A non-problematic moment of peace?

Nope. Just the man who crashed both Charles and my cars earlier like we were extras in his villain origin story. The same guy who spent last night brooding like a Wattpad bad boy and then this morning called me Jones like we didn't once almost kiss during a rain delay in Hungary.

We lock eyes, and the silence is deafening. The elevator feels about 3 inches wide. I swear I can hear my heart slamming against my ribs like it's trying to file a noise complaint.

He doesn't say anything at first. Just leans against the wall like he owns the place, hands shoved in his pockets, jaw tense. Classic Lando—casual with a hint of I will start emotional warfare in this very lift if you test me.

"Nice dress," he finally mutters, eyes not even on me. Oh, now we're doing the passive-aggressive compliments? Okay. Cool.

"Thanks," I say, tone sharp enough to slice glass. "Crashing into your teammate really brings out your inner fashion critic, huh?"

He scoffs. "Wasn't on purpose."

"You sure? 'Cause it looked personal."

"You think I meant to spin him out?"

"Oh, I don't think, Norris. I know."

My eyebrows shoot up as he presses the emergency stop button.

Fuck

Lando Norris

"Lizzie, just listen—" I started, but she was already shaking her head like she was trying to rattle the thoughts out of her brain.

"Not now. Please. Don't complicate things. This—" she gestured vaguely between us like this was a bug she needed to flick off her dress "—is never going to happen. What happened on the beach was a mistake."

Mistake.

That word shot through me like a fucking bullet.

"Stop pushing me away."

"You said you hated me." Her voice cracked, just slightly. And there it was. The truth buried under six years of chaos and silence.

"And you believed that?" I yelled before I could stop myself. My voice echoed too loud in the small metal box, bouncing off the walls like guilt.

She flinched slightly, but didn't back down. Of course she didn't. This was Lizzie Jones—always fighting, always standing her ground, even when she was seconds away from crumbling.

I took a step forward. Then another. Until her back was against the wall and my hands came up on either side of her. Not touching—just caging her in like I was afraid she'd vanish again.

Her breaths were short. She refused to look at me.

"Lando—" she said, voice soft, broken, pleading. She sounded like she didn't know if she wanted me to stop or kiss her. Honestly? I didn't know which one she wanted either.

But I knew what I wanted. What I always wanted. Her.

Fuck this

I crash my lips onto hers, cupping her face with one hand, while the other slide around her back, pulling her closer to me. For a second her lips don't respond, frozen in shock, until she finally she does. I glide my tongue along her bottom lip, and she welcome it, parting her lips to allow my tongue to slip in. Her hands find their way to my hair, pulling me closer to her. I groan at the feeling, knowing shes got a hold on me. This is what i always dreamed of, maybe not in these circumstances- but hey, im not complaining. I put my hands on the back of her thighs, and wrap her legs around hips. As i roll my hips into hers, the friction between us makes her whimper and right then-i want top rip off that dress and fuck her. God i wanted to fuck her so bad. She responds to my action, rolling herself against my bulge in my sweats. She throws her head back and i take the opportunity to start sucking on that sweet spot that makes her moan. I stop to look at her, gazing at her smudged lipstick, rolled up dress, eyes closed shut. I wanted more- i needed more. But before i can do anything, she opens her eyes and the realisation sets in. She seems to be fighting between thoughts in her head. I put her down, and she moves away from me to press the emergency button. I just watch her, fixing her make up and facing the wall. It takes a while for the elevator to start back up, and she doesn't spare me a glance.