Forever and Always | Max Verstappen *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Coffee with an old friend

Present day

Emma
Max and I were on his private jet, and let me tell you—this thing was huge.

Bigger than Pierre's, for sure.

It felt like flying in a five-star hotel.

Max just smirked at my reaction, like it was no big deal.

Typical.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yeah, just... your jet is massive," I said, looking around like a kid in a candy store.

He shrugged casually. "It gets me where I need to go."

"Okay, Mr. Humble," I teased, sinking deeper into the seat.

This trip felt different from the gala prep or any other event we'd gone to recently.

I didn't need a Meredith pep talk this time.

I was actually excited. Nervous? A little.

But mostly, I was looking forward to being there with him.

Somewhere over the Alps, the hum of the engines and the peaceful vibe lulled me into a nap.

I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep until I woke up, my head resting on his shoulder.

I blinked groggily and sat up. "Oh my god, sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Don't apologize," he said softly, "You looked comfortable."

My face felt warm, and it wasn't because of the altitude. "How long was I out?"

"Not long. We're almost there," he said, glancing out the window.

I stretched and yawned, "You should've woken me up. What if I drooled on you or something?"

He chuckled, "You didn't." Then, with this calm, steady tone, he added, "You can fall asleep on me anytime, you know. I like it."

I looked at him, trying to figure out how he could be so effortlessly sweet.

"You're too nice, you know that?"

He leaned back, his expression still soft but a little teasing now. "Nah. Just honest."

I couldn't help but smile.

Austria greeted us with a crisp chill in the air, and I instantly regretted not packing a heavier jacket.

Max, of course, noticed within seconds. Without a word, he slipped off his own jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

"Better?" he asked.

I pulled it tighter around me, "Thanks. Don't you need it?"

He shook his head. "I'll survive."

We checked into the hotel, which was gorgeous—modern but cozy, with views that overlooked the mountains.

Max had to leave for practice not long after we arrived, but as he headed out, I found out that Kika was staying in the same hotel.

A little reunion was definitely in order.

Kika showed up at my door not long after Max left, all smiles and looking as chic as ever.

She was the kind of person who could make a hoodie and leggings look like haute couture.

"Emma!" she beamed.

"Kika!" I hugged her back.

She flopped onto the couch,  "So, tell me everything. How's married life treating you?"