The Finish Line Kiss - Lando Norris

✦˚₊‧⁺˖ chapter 8 ˖⁺‧₊˚✦

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The restaurant Lando had picked was tucked away on a quiet cobblestone street, its glowing lanterns casting a warm, golden light that spilled onto the sidewalk. The place had a low-key charm, with a few small tables outside, each draped with crisp white tablecloths and flickering candles that danced in the soft evening breeze. The scent of garlic, fresh basil, and warm bread wafted through the air, instantly making Zoe's stomach growl.

Inside, the vibe was somehow both cozy and elegant. Rustic brick walls lined with shelves of wine bottles gave it a homey touch, while low-hanging chandeliers added a bit of flair. The hum of Italian jazz mixed with the soft clinking of glasses and quiet chatter, creating an atmosphere that felt alive but not overwhelming.

"Okay," Zoe admitted as they were led to their table near a large window that looked out onto the street. The glow of the lanterns outside made the whole scene look like something out of a postcard. "This is... actually really nice. I might forgive you for dragging me out."

Lando smirked, pulling out her chair with an exaggerated flourish before plopping down across from her. "See? Told you I've got good taste."

She snorted, glancing at the menu as a waiter approached with a friendly smile, handing them each a leather-bound menu. Zoe's eyes immediately landed on the pasta section, her mouth practically watering at the descriptions of handmade gnocchi and tagliatelle.

"This might actually make up for the fact that you made me leave the comfort of my room," she teased, looking over the options.

"High praise," Lando said with a grin. He leaned back in his chair, scanning the menu lazily. "I told you, Zoe. I don't just eat chicken nuggets and fries."

"Barely," she shot back, flipping the page to the desserts. "You better order something good, or this truce is off."

"Don't worry," he said, flagging down the waiter. "I'll take care of it. You just focus on figuring out which dessert you're going to beg me to share later."

Zoe rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. As the waiter returned, they placed their orders—Zoe going for the gnocchi she'd been eyeing, while Lando went for the risotto, throwing in a plate of bruschetta to share because, as he put it, "We're in Italy. It's mandatory."

Zoe settled back in her chair, taking in the warm glow of the restaurant and the easy buzz of conversation around them. Lando was already pulling out a story about Carlos's latest antics, and for the first time in days, she felt herself fully relax.

Once their bruschetta arrived, Zoe grabbed a piece, the crispy bread topped with fresh tomatoes, basil, and just the right drizzle of olive oil. She took a bite, savoring it before looking across the table at Lando, who was already halfway through his first piece.

"Alright, spill," Zoe said, pointing at him with the corner of her bread. "What's the latest paddock drama? I know you've got something good."

Lando smirked, leaning back in his chair like he was about to drop some huge secret. "Okay, so you know how Carlos is always acting like he's the wise older brother of the grid?"

Zoe nodded, already grinning. "Yeah, like he's everyone's life coach or something?"

"Exactly!" Lando said, laughing. "Well, apparently, he's been giving Charles advice about how to 'find balance in life.' Like, literally, that's what he called it. Balance."

Zoe nearly choked on her bite of bruschetta. "Balance? Coming from Carlos? The guy who spends hours obsessing over his hair?"

"Right?!" Lando said, shaking his head. "But Charles is actually taking it seriously. He's been meditating before races now because Carlos said it would help him stay calm under pressure."