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"Alé, we have to go," she mumbled, pushing my chest gently.

"They can wait 5 minutes," I replied, pressing a kiss to her lips.

She gave me a playful glare, gently pinching my bicep.

I hissed, pulling away from her as she stepped out of my arms.

"I'll go out first," she said, slipping out of the bathroom.

I waited a few more minutes before following after her.

It was hard sneaking around. With camera's on us every now and then, it was difficult to make sure we were never caught together.

Nobody knew.

Both of us had done our best to keep our relationship a secret till now. Neither of us could recall if our contracts prohibited relationships with colleagues, but it wouldn't be a problem- for now.

As far as I could tell, no one suspected anything.

Aaron and my PR manager had nearly caught us on several occasions, but we had managed to play it cool.

Having Dakota as my engineer was both a blessing, and a curse. I got to spend a lot of time with her, but that also made it harder for me to control myself.

"Mate, you were gone for ages," Lando complained the minute he spotted me boarding the plane.

"Aww, that's too bad," I smirked, shaking my head. "Did you miss me?"

"Fuck no, sit down so we can get going."

The flight to Mexico was long. Ivan and Aaron sat across from me on the private jet McLaren was using for the trip.

"Have you asked Zak about your contract?" Ivan asked, leaning back in his seat.

"No, I actually forgot about it."

"There's only two races left in the season. Are you worried?" Aaron asked, raising a brow.

Shit. I hadn't thought about that.

"I mean, he wouldn't let me go this late in the season. Would he? If I'm dropped now, there's no way I'll have a seat in F1 next season. It's too late."

"You're right, all the teams have their drivers for next season. Unless RedBull somehow decides to drop Perez, but then again. Who wants to be the cursed second seat?"

I craned my neck, spotting Zak sitting at the front of the plane.

"Hey Zak!"

"Yeah?"

"Have you thought about my contract extension?" I called, a grin on my face as I waited for a response.

"Yeah, I thought about it!" he replied.

"And?"

"That's all. I just thought about it," he replied, making the team laugh.

I shook my head, sharing a look with Aaron.

"Well, at least it's something," my trainer shrugged.

I had only signed with McLaren for one year. It wasn't ideal as most drivers joined for at least 2 which was the bare minimum. But I had to snag the opportunity to join one of the most promising teams as a rookie. So I settled for a single year contract.

Meanwhile, Lando had just extended his contract until 2025.

"I can't believe the season is ending soon," Lando sighed, removing his headphones.

"Yeah, it's crazy. But I feel like I'm ready for a break," I muttered. This was arguably one of the longest seasons of racing for me.

No just because of the 22 race calendar, but also because it was so mentally draining.

I was exhausted.

So instead of listening to the rest of my team, I decided to take a short nap.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Mexico City, Mexico."

I blinked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. It felt like I had just closed my eyes a minute ago. But in fact it had been 8 hours.

The entire McLaren team filed out of the plane, taking the time to thank the flight crew.

I found myself right behind Dakota as she spoke with Charlotte, Lando's PR manager.

"Nice flight?" she asked, turning to look up at me.

"The best. I slept the entire way through."

"Must be nice," she sighed, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Gracias por volar con nosotros. ¡Buena suerte! (Thank you for flying with us. Good luck!)" the flight attendant smiled at us.

Dakota seemed to freeze in front of me, her body tensing.

"Muchas gracias," Dakota replied quietly, stepping out of the plane.

The flight attendants words echoed in my head. It had been ages since I had heard the familiar accent of Mexico's Spanish.

My mouth ran dry and I struggled to formulate a response.

Think Kota!

"Muchas gracias," I blurted, hurrying to get off the plane.

My head was spinning and I felt like I was going to fall over.

I stumbled, a hand wrapping around my upper arm.

"Are you okay?" Charlotte asked, looking at me worriedly.

"Yeah. Fine, my legs turned into jelly from sitting so long," I joked.

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

Dakota's leg tapped nervously against the leg of the stool.

Alessandro's pace was good and it looked like he was going to have a good race.

He had qualified P7 and Lando was P5 giving the McLaren team a good shot at a podium finish.

However, it didn't seem like Lando and Alessandro were very buddy-buddy at the moment.

Yesterday during qualifying, the team decided to practice a tow on track. A two allowed the leading car to punch a hole in the air, giving the car behind extra speed due to the reduction in drag.

Usually Alessandro was the one leading and giving Lando the advantage. Yesterday, the team decided to swap things around.

E>"Lando, we're going to do a practice tow."

L>"Ok, do I come in and wait for Alé to go out?"

E>"Er, no. You're going to be giving him a tow."

L>"Oh. Alright."

Lando's engineer, Will, gave Dakota a glance. A sense of unease spread through the garage.

D>"Alé, Lando is going to give you a tow on the next lap."

A>"Copy."

Lando frowned, glancing in his mirrors. He couldn't understand why the team had swapped the usual order. It didn't sit right with him and made him feel uncomfortable.

E>"Alé in turn 9. Approaching turn 10. Start flying lap."

L>"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

Will winced, glancing at Dakota who shrugged.

That brought them to race day. A more intense version of yesterdays radio was playing out.

A>"I have more pace than him."

D>"Copy, we're watching the time splits. You're slower in sector 3."

The team watched as Alessandro came up right up to Lando's rear, nearly touching it as they went through the chicane.

"What do we do?" Ivan asked, looking to Zak.

"Let them race," Zak nodded.

Usually teams prevented their drivers from racing each other because there was a high risk that both cars crashed. That would mean no points for the team. The last thing a racing driver wanted to do was crash into his teammate.

Alessandro was growing frustrated behind Lando. He hadn't heard back from Dakota on the radio and he was perfectly capable of overtaking Lando. But a part of him knew it was better to wait for the all clear.

D>"Keep it clean."

That was all she said and it was enough for Alessandro slam his foot on the throttle. He pulled up right alongside Lando as they zoomed down the start-finish straight.

L>"Mate, what is he doing?"

E>"You are racing each other, keep it clean."

It was easier said than done.

Dakota could see that both drivers were desperate to get the P4 position. Alessandro wanted to overtake, but Lando kept closing the door on him.

Alessandro decided to go the long way around the outside, only to be forced off the track by Lando.

A>"What the fuck is he doing? He just pushed me off the track!"

D>"Yeah, we saw that. Be careful."

A>"Don't tell me to be careful, tell Lando to stop driving dirty."

The two cars nearly bumped wheels several times thought the first sector.

"I think we should tell them to stop," Dakota mumbled.

Zak held up a hand, indicating to hold off on the order.

"Let's see, I'm sure they can handle themselves."

Just as he finished his sentence, a gasp erupted from the garage.

It all happened in a blink of an eye, and when the dust settled, both orange cars lay immobile on the side of the track.

Alessandro had been trying to sell Lando a dummy.

He moved left and then right once Lando moved to cover him off, but Lando had swerved at the last moment. Alessandro slammed into the rear if Lando's car and the two vehicles slid off the track into the barriers.

The screech of the metal pieces sounded loudly through the speakers of the live broadcast.

C>"Yellow flag in sector 2! Oh and it's the McLaren's! Both McLaren's of Lando Norris and Alessandro Moreno have crashed into each other! What is going on?"

"Fuck!" Zak exclaimed, shaking his head.

It was the first time I had ever seen him display any emotion related to anger.

D>"Are you okay?"

A>"Yeah, fuck. I'm sorry guys."

If the crash itself wasn't a problem for the team, Lando's radio that was broadcast live was another issue.

E>"Are you ok? Are you ok?"

L>" Yeah yeah, what the fuck was Moreno doing? Fucking crashed right into me!"

E>We'll discuss it later."

L>"Later my ass, fucking hell."

Dakota sighed, ripping off her headphones.

It was going to be a long evening.