Tangled in Trophies- Lando Norris

30. Tension and Thoughts

The brief moment in the car replayed itself, uninvited, over and over. His hand had grazed her arm, then her thigh—so fleeting, so casual. And yet it had felt anything but casual. The sensation lingered, warm and sharp, even now. Her body had responded before her mind could catch up, a quick, fluttery wave of nervous energy.

She pressed her hand harder against her purse, trying to ground herself, trying to focus on something else. But no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept drifting back to the way his touch had felt. The way his presence had felt, so close, so sure.

Her heart was a confusing mess—half exhilarated, half terrified. She wondered why she let herself care so much about these small, accidental touches, and yet it felt impossible to shake the sensation.

She bit her lip and let out a shaky breath, stepping toward the elevator. You need to focus, Evangeline.

But her mind, persistent, continued. How easy it had been to feel at ease with him at dinner, how easy it had been to laugh, to exchange stories. And how easily his hand, almost absent-mindedly, had made its way close enough to make her heart twist.

Her eyes stared at the elevator doors as they slowly opened. What did this mean?

The scene shifted to Lando in his hotel room, dim light casting shadows over the sleek, modern décor. His phone rested on the desk beside him, untouched, as he leaned back against the headboard of his bed, the sheets a bit disheveled.

His thoughts, much like Evangeline's, were restless.

The dinner had gone well. Too well, perhaps. She had looked beautiful—too beautiful for him to ignore the way his heart clenched when she laughed or when her eyes caught the light. She had a way about her that made him feel entirely grounded and entirely unsteady at the same time.

But what lingered most in his mind was her voice. The sound of her speaking in Italian, sharp and elegant and fluid, had taken him by surprise. It had drawn his attention entirely, and he couldn't stop replaying it in his head—the way her words had sounded, so natural, so perfect. Her ease in it had made her feel even more... real.

He thought about how her smile had lit up when she spoke. The way her shoulders had shifted, the way her eyes sparkled with confidence and ease. He had watched her in that moment, captivated, knowing it wasn't just about her words but the way she carried herself.

It made him feel something strange, something he wasn't sure how to name.

He placed his hand on his chest and let out a shaky exhale, sitting up now. She had looked incredible during dinner—the soft glow of the lights dancing across her hair, her smile, the warmth in her gaze. He couldn't stop thinking about how easy it had been to sit beside her, how natural it felt, even though he knew he wasn't always good at this kind of thing.

And yet, here he was. Still thinking about her.

He wondered what it was about her. The way she held herself, the way her words felt like music to his ears. And then there was that moment on the drive back—his hand brushing hers. Nothing intentional, just accidental, just the movement of leaning in to open the door.

But her reaction lingered in his mind. He wondered if she felt it too. The tension, the electricity, the unspoken... something.

His stomach was tight now, and his fingers found their way to his hair, tugging at the strands absentmindedly.

Why did she linger in his thoughts so much?

His phone buzzed, but he didn't look at it. He stared at the wall for a moment, wishing he could shut down this constant swirl of emotions, but it felt impossible. Her laugh at dinner, her voice in Italian, her smile when she looked at him—too much.

Too much for one evening.

He let out a deep breath and leaned back against the headboard again. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling now.

She was beautiful. In every moment. The way she spoke, the way she laughed, the way her presence could fill a room without her even trying.

And yet, he could feel himself spiraling.

Lando closed his eyes for a moment and tried to push the thoughts away, but they lingered. He couldn't help but imagine her smile again, the way her hand moved when she gestured. Her eyes were sharp, focused, and yet soft.

He thought about the café again—the one by the old bookstore. He thought about the idea of seeing her there again, just the two of them. Low-key, away from the chaos.

But the tension lingered.

He wondered if it would always linger.

Lando sighed and let his hand drop to his lap, his head sinking back into the pillow as he tried to quiet his mind. The thoughts wouldn't go away. And maybe, for once, he wasn't sure if he wanted them to.