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It was the final race before the summer break.

Dakota and Mark sat side by side in the FIA garage as rain poured down in the pit lane.

"We're going to be doing some slipping and sliding today," she said, eyeing the puddles forming outside.

"How many DNF's are we thinking?"

"Three?"

"Seems reasonable," Mark nodded, watching the mechanics set up the easy-ups over the cars.

"Mind giving a status update to McLaren next door?" one of the FIA officials asked, popping their head into the garage.

"Sure," they nodded, standing up.

Mark scanned the garage as crew members decked out in orange milled about.

"Busy day today for you safety car drivers," Zak Brown said, greeting the two.

"For sure, I mean look at the puddles."

"Are we racing or is it delayed?"

"Nope, we're racing. I think the rain should stop in a few," Mark said, glancing at the radar.

Dakota was busy scanning the room, her gaze landing on the brown haired Italian.

He smirked, sending her a wink that made her blush.

Mark raised a brow, glancing between the two.

"Is there something I'm missing here?" he whispered to Dakota.

"Huh? No, nothing. Why?"

"Because he can't seem to keep his eyes off of you."

"Shut up."

"I think it makes him even grumpier because he wants what he can't have."

Her eyebrows raised. "And by that you mean?"

"He wants you Dakota. You're just oblivious."

She stayed silent, refusing to believe anything he was saying.

Alessandro and Dakota had a complicated relationship.

90% of the time they were at each others' throats. The other 10% was what happened that night at her apartment.

He was a complicated man and to me, he was like a puzzle she needed to solve.

She kept falling for his stupid tricks, letting him kiss me, touch me. But I knew he didn't want to settle down and have a real relationship.

And she was a a fool for letting him think there was a chance for anything less.

"I recognize someone walking with a boner when I see them. It's a rather awkward experience, with him wobbling away when you bend over to check out the cars."

"Mark!" she exclaimed, slapping his shoulder.

Her face burned, the tips of her ears turning pink.

"What? I'm just stating the obvious."

"I-I'm not talking to you ever again," she stuttered, walking away from him.

"That's childish, Kota," he sang, amusement clear in his voice.

The race began as usual.

Or so she thought.

Yellow flags were waved before the cars made it to turn 1.

"What the fuck happened there?" Mark mumbled, watching the replay intently.

Dakota opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it when she remembered her threat.

Alessandro had his foot down on the throttle and was downshifting into the corner when he felt it.

He had hit something. Or rather, something had hit him.

In his mirrors, he spotted a red coloured car go careening into the side of his car. He then went sliding right into the bargeboard of a RedBull.

A>"Fuck, what damage do I have?"

E>"Front left puncture, front left puncture. Front wing is broken."

E>"Can you make it back to the pits?"

A>"I can try."

Alessandro prayed his car wouldn't stop on track. He had to make it back to the pit lane if he wanted to continue the race.

He let out a break of relief as the mechanics surrounded the car and the tires were changed.

E>"Sandro, looks like we'll have to retire the car."

A>"What? Really?"

E>"Yes, unfortunately. There's too much damage to the underside of the car."

The Italian let out a growl of frustration, yanking off his gloves and getting out of the car. He made his way into the back of the McLaren garage, away from the prying eyes of the cameras.

His helmet remained on his head. The visor fogged as his skin heat up from anger. If he took off his helmet, he was sure he would smash it against the ground.

Alessandro's fists clenched an unclenched, his broad shoulders tense. The McLaren crew eyed him uneasily.

But he knew that as long as Zak was in his presence, his anger would be kept at bay.

Zak took a gamble signing him on to the McLaren team.

A hot headed 20 year old with an aggressive style of driving and zero championships under his belt was not ideal. Zak had faith in him. The only problem was that Alessandro didn't have faith in himself.

Alessandro could see the camera's trained on his side of the garage. He couldn't give the press any more material to feed off of. His terrible performances had been more than enough for the media and Twitter.

Lando followed his actions, hopping out of the sister McLaren that had a badly damaged front nose.

"Series of unfortunate events," Lando sighed, patting Alessandro's shoulder.

He could sense the anger radiating off of him and knew he had to keep it under control in front of the cameras.

To Lando, it was an unfortunate retirement. Out of his control. But for Alessandro, it was something more.

"No points for the team this weekend," Alessandro sighed, a fake smile making his eyes squint. "But hey, at least we get to watch the race."

"You mean you get to watch Dakota do her thing," Lando said, wiggling his brows. He tried to ease the tension as he removed his helmet.

Alessandro scoffed, pushing him away.

Lando was desperate to know what was going on between the two.

"Don't mess around with her," the Brit warned, turning serious.

"What makes you think I'm 'messing around'?" Alessandro sneered, suddenly very annoyed by his choice of words.

"I know you, Alessandro. Have you told her about Van-"

"Sorry about that boys," Zak's voice boomed as he entered the back of the garage.

"Yeah, sucks but that's racing," Alessandro grit out, trying to walk past him to his drivers room. Unfortunately, the a cart full of tools was blocking the way as mechanics made room for the damaged cars.

Lando was still glaring at him when Zak asked him a question.

Alessandro shifted his focus to the cars zooming by. The bright green Aston Martin flew by the pit straight. He watched the big screens that showed Dakota leading the cars around the track.

At the end of the lap, the green flag was waved and she brought the car back into the pits next to the McLaren garage.

He could feel Lando's stare as he walked over to the car where Dakota had rolled down her window.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it wasn't a big hit."

"Your hand is shaking," she said quietly, glancing down as he quickly clenched his fists.

He let out a long breath, trying to reign in his anger.

"I'm fine. Just fucked up my car."

"Did you end up choosing a name for it?" she asked, resting her chin on the windowsill.

Dakota had suggested way back at the start of the season that he name the car to give him a more personal connection to it. She knew he had a hard time settling in with the team, especially when Dave was his engineer.

Naming the car would help him add a personal touch to it.

"Maybe."

"Tell me! I want to know."

"It's stupid."

"No it's not! Mark named his car Stacey."

"Hey! That's private information!" her partner exclaimed, popping his head into view.

"Oh fuck off, would you? Private my ass," she rolled her eyes, making Alessandro's lips quirk into a smile.

"I named her Vittoria," he said simply.

"Vittoria? That means victory, right?"

"You're learning quick, dolcezza."

"Only from you, Casanova," she replied, fighting back a smile.

"I'll see you after the race," he said, stepping away from her window.

"Get that helmet off your head, your entire face is turning red," she called as he walked away.

-----------------------------------------------

Dakota had no idea how she found herself in Alessandro's room, but it happened. He had waited for her to come after the race finished.

She giggled when he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

Yes, actually giggled.

She knew it was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

But she didn't have the heart to push him away.

Alessandro's muscles relaxed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

A dull ache had appeared in his upped shoulders, either from tension or the initial impact of the crash.

"Stop, Aaron's waiting for you. You have to go."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"You're in my drivers room, I make the rules."

"Oh really? That's interesting because I like breaking rules. Rules are stupid, especially if they're yours."

She gasped as he pinned her against the wall, his body pressing against hers.

"I'll have you over my knees so fast, your head will spin."

Heat pooled between her legs as she tried her hardest to seem unaffected.

But he knew. Of course he did.

He bent down, his lips against her cheek, brushing it lightly. The lightest of touches sent shivers through her body, making her whole body tremble.

"If you want me to stop, tell me now," he whispered.

Dakota couldn't speak. Her mind was racing a mile a second, her body responding before she could think.

She still said nothing, he brushed his mouth against the hollow of her temple.

"Or now."

He traced the line of her cheekbone.

"Or now." His lips were against hers.

He kissed her gently, carefully, unlike the previous fervent kisses they'd shared. She melted under his touch, goosebumps rising on her skin.

Alessandro couldn't think of anything else but her.

Dakota. Dakota. Dakota

She took over his mind.

It felt like a lifetime had passed when Dakota's mind finally caught up with reality.

Pushing his arms away from her waist, she stepped out of his hold.

"Stop."

Her throat felt dry, her face was burning hot.

"Dakota," he rasped, his voice sending a jolt through her body.

"Stop."

"I'm not doing anything Kota."

"Stop fucking with my head. Y-You can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"This! Fucking with my feelings. I can't tell what you want."

"You," he replied, simply.

"Right," she laughed humourlessly.

"What do you want me to say, Dakota?" he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"You know I don't do shit like this. I don't do flings- or whatever this is."

"This is just us having fun, there's nothing wrong with that," Alessandro shrugged, leaning against the wall.

Dakota swallowed harshly, her stomach churning uneasily.

"Having fun?" she repeated quietly.

"Well, yeah," he replied, as if it was obvious. As if there was nothing wrong with that. "Dakota, I don't do serious relationships. You should know that by now."

"Are you serious right now?"

Alessandro couldn't stop the words that came out of his mouth next. His emotions were still running high from the race.

"What's up with you? Dakota, was there ever a moment when I hinted that we might be more? No. Relationships aren't my thing. So if you want out, now's your chance."

Dakota stared at him, her brows furrowed and cheeks flushed.

"You could've said that earlier."

With that, she spun on her heel and slammed the door shut behind her.