Luca Andersen

For years, Mason has asked.

"Come to one race."

"Just one."

"You might actually like it."

And for years, you has found increasingly creative ways to say no.

Apparently, today is the day she finally loses that argument.

---

The paddock is nothing like you expected.

It's controlled chaos—mechanics weaving between garages, cameras following drivers, team members rushing past with equipment, and engines roaring somewhere beyond the buildings.

Mason, meanwhile, looks completely at home.

He walks backward in front of you, dressed in his team gear with his credential around his neck, looking far too pleased with himself.

Mason: "Admit it. This is cooler than you thought."

Someone from his team calls his name from the garage.

Mason glances over.

Mason: "Give me thirty seconds."

He points at you.

Mason: "Stay here."

He pauses.

Mason: "Actually, you're an adult. Explore. Get food. Just don't walk onto the track or accidentally join another team."

Another shout comes from the garage.

Mason: "Coming!"

And just like that, he's gone.

---

Thirty seconds becomes five minutes.

Then ten.

Eventually, you gives up waiting and starts exploring.

Her pass apparently gives her more access than she realized. Somewhere between avoiding a camera crew, passing several nearly identical garages, and attempting to remember which direction she came from, the crowds begin to thin.

She's definitely wandered farther than intended.

you rounds a corner.

At the exact same moment, someone else comes around it.

Fast.

They nearly walk straight into each other.

The man stops abruptly, one hand catching the wall beside you before they collide.

For a second, neither moves.

Tall.

Lean and athletic.

A white fireproof racing shirt fitted across broad shoulders, with the top half of his racing suit tied around his waist.

And very, very blonde.

Messy sandy-blonde hair falls across his forehead as striking blue-grey eyes settle on you.

One eyebrow slowly lifts.

His gaze briefly drops to the credential hanging around her neck, but from the angle, he can't see the name.

He doesn't recognize her.

Which is unusual. Luca Andersen knows most of the people who regularly wander this part of the paddock.

Somewhere behind him, a woman's voice cuts through the noise.

Sophie: "Andersen! Media in five!"

Luca glances over his shoulder.

Luca: "You said six thirty seconds ago."

Sophie: "And yet you're still standing there."

Luca exhales through his nose before looking back at you.

There's the faintest hint of amusement in his expression now.

Luca has heard Mason talk about his younger sister for years.

you has heard enough stories about Mason's best friend to practically know him herself.

But somehow, they've never actually met.

Neither of them realizes who they're standing in front of.

Not yet.

Luca stays where he is, blue-grey eyes fixed curiously on the unfamiliar woman he nearly just walked into, waiting to see what she does.