Thanks to Norris

part 59- nights

I tucked my phone into the pocket of Josi's hoodie and finally stepped into the kitchen, my fingers grazing the edge of the counter as I joined their conversation.

"Are we still talking about Lando's attempt at pancakes?" I asked, raising a brow.

Josi grinned and took a sip of her coffee. "Oh, absolutely. He tried to flip one and it ended up on the floor. Twice."

Lando shot her a look, mock offended. "I was under pressure! You were watching me like it was a Michelin inspection."

"Please," I laughed. "You folded the batter like it owed you money."

He gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. "Wow. Betrayed by my own teammates."

Josi gave me a wink and headed toward her room with her mug. "I'll leave you to defend your honor, chef."

Before Lando could come up with a comeback, the doorbell rang.

I turned toward the door, heart skipping slightly even though I knew who it was. "That'll be Max and Pietra."

I padded across the floor and opened it to find Max grinning in his usual low-key way, Pietra beside him, holding a bottle of wine and a stack of board games.

"Is this the right apartment for game night and chaos?" Max asked.

"That depends," I smirked. "Are you bringing snacks or just bad energy?"

Pietra laughed and walked in, handing me the wine. "Both, obviously."

Lando greeted them with a hug and that warm, easy charm that lit up the room without trying. I watched him with a quiet fondness that came too easily.

We settled into the living room—Max and Pietra quickly claiming the floor with snacks spread out, while Lando and I took the couch again. Josi eventually joined us, settling cross-legged beside Pietra, and soon enough the space was filled with competitive groans, dramatic accusations over stolen game pieces, and laughter that made the walls feel softer.

Lando kept stealing my cards during Uno. Max kept pretending he didn't understand the rules just to mess with everyone. Josi won twice, smug and quiet about it, while Pietra took it upon herself to start a tally on the back of a takeout menu.

It was the kind of night that stitched warmth into your bones.

Later, we all headed out for dinner at this rooftop spot Josi loved. The city sparkled below us, humming with life as we clinked glasses and argued over the best driver in F1 history. Pietra made jokes that had us all leaning on the table for support, and Lando—he looked at me across the candlelight in a way that quieted everything else for a beat.

After dinner, outside the restaurant while everyone was still saying their goodbyes, I reached into my jacket and pulled out the keys.

I didn't say anything at first—just held them out toward Lando.

He blinked, confused. "What's this?"

"The keys," I said simply. "To the gt3"

His eyes widened, voice barely a whisper. "Your gt3?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Take it for a spin. You've earned it."

He looked between me and the car parked across the street like he couldn't believe I was serious. "You love that car more than life itself."

"Exactly," I said, stepping a little closer. "And I don't hand over trust like that unless I mean it."

He stared at the keys, then at me—soft, stunned. "This is like... sacred."