After a brief media meeting and a walk through the paddock with Franco, Evita was on the Argentine driver's side of the Williams garage, waiting impatiently for qualifying to begin. Unfortunately for her, it was currently downpouring outside of the garage, creating a river in the pitlane. It was unsafe for the cars to be on track, so they were waiting out the weather.

Evita knew it was for the best, but she was also bored. If the weather wasn't so dreadful, she would have walked to the Haas garage to spend more time with Genevieve, but she was not in the mood to get drenched.

"Hey," said a familiar voice. Evita looked over to see Franco, his shoulder brushing against hers as he leaned on the barrier that separated the viewing area from the rest of the garage.

"Hey," said Evita, nudging him with her arm. "You bored?"

Franco sighed. "I wish we could be driving right now, but also, that looks terrifying to be out in."

Evita looked at the torrential rain outside and shuddered. The idea of Franco driving in that weather made her absolutely nauseous.

"You know what we could do to pass the time?" Franco asked mischievously, pressing his arm against hers.

Evita's face heated up. "Um-"

Franco leaned over, leaning his forehead against the top of the barrier, his body shaking as he laughed. "Oh my god, Evita, that is not what I meant." He stopped laughing and looked up at her, a gleam in his eyes. "Unless-"

"No," Evita quickly shot him down. "You need to stay here so you're ready to go when they start qualifying. Also, those driver room walls seem thin, and I don't really want to test how soundproof they are."

"Fine," said Franco, resting his hand over hers. "Okay, now for my real idea. Have you ever danced in the rain?"

Evita glanced at him, raising one eyebrow. She could feel her heart pick up its pace, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. "Here? With everyone watching?"

Franco shrugged, his eyes scanning the garage. The engineers were taking advantage of the delay, looking over Franco's car.

"They aren't looking," said Franco. "And we can entertain the fans in the grandstand. We've got time, Ev. It could be fun."

Evita hesitated, glancing around out of habit. Keeping things private and professional with Franco was a difficult task, but she was determined to uphold that aspect of their relationship. But there was something in the way Franco was looking at her, like he wanted to take this small moment, just the two of them, despite the eyes that might be watching.

"Okay," she said softly. If needed, she could easily spin the story to make it seem like two friends trying to pass the time during the delay, nothing more than that. That was Evita's entire career: making something look like nothing.

Franco didn't wait for more confirmation. He gently turned her hand over, intertwining their fingers together. Then he pulled her out of the garage, the rain running down their company-issued rain jackets. Evita was instantly soaked, water dripping from her hair into her eyes.

Franco took her other hand, leading her into a salsa, just like the lesson they had taken together during the break in England. His movements were easy, casual, like it was just them at the dance studio, not on the Interlagos pit lane for thousands of people to see. Evita laughed as Franco spun her around. She could sense the restraint in the way he moved, like he wanted to close the space between them, but couldn't. Evita wondered if he could feel the same thing in her.

Franco caught her gaze, his eyes soft. Evita's pulse quickened, and she gave him the smallest nod. He smiled at that, and ever so gently, he released her left hand and pulled heer closer, his free hand resting on her waist.

"Don't worry," he murmured, his breath brushing against her temple. "No one's paying attention. I can't even see the grandstands through the rain."

Evita glanced around. He was right. No one was paying attention to the young couple, everyone too occupied with the cars. There weren't even cameras in sight.

"You sure about that?" she asked, but she didn't dare pull away from him. Being this close to him felt too good.

Franco laughed quietly. "Trust me," he said, his fingers brushing against her back, a touch so light it sent a shiver down her spine. "It's just us."

They moved together in silence for a moment, the rain falling heavier now, soaking through their shoes, but neither of them seemed to care. It was like they were in their own world, one that was hidden in plain sight.

"I wish we didn't have to hide this," Franco admitted, so softly Evita almost didn't hear him. He pulled her just a fraction closer, his body heat welcome against the slight chill of the wind against Evita's wet clothes.

"Me too," she whispered. "But this is enough for now."

She looked up at him, their faces so close she could see the water droplets clinging to his long eyelashes. Her heart skipped, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world had stopped for them. They didn't say anything for a moment, holding onto the tiny slice of freedom they'd carved out for themselves.

"One day, we won't have to keep this a secret," promised Franco.

Evita smiled, leaning against him. She gently brushed her lips against his cheek, trying to be as subtle as possible.

"One day," she whispered back.

"Wanna go back inside and dry off?" asked Franco.

"No," said Evita, but she pulled away from him anyway, instantly regretting it as the warmth he provided evaporated.

The two headed back to the garage, grabbing small towels from a shelf to dry their dripping hair. One of the mechanics pulled Franco aside to speak with him.

"What was that about?" asked Evita once the man walked away.

"Qualifying is postponed until tomorrow morning," explained Franco. "The rain doesn't look like it'll clear up anytime soon, and they're hoping it will be better in the morning. We're free to head back to the hotel for the evening."

Evita wasn't sure she liked the idea of that, but she shrugged, continuing to massage her scalp with the towel. "Do you have any spare clothes in your room upstairs? I don't want to get the rental car all wet."

Franco smiled fondly at her. "Does that mean you want to test out the soundproofing of the walls?" he joked.

Evita blushed and shoved past her boyfriend. "You wish. Let's go, Fran."

Franco smiled and trailed after her, letting his hand brush against the small of her back as they climbed the flight of stairs that led to his driver room.

"Thanks for that, by the way," he said. "Helped me keep my mind off other things."

"Good," said Evita. "I'm more than happy to help."

As soon as they were in Franco's room, the door closed behind them, Franco's lips were immediately on hers, his hands firmly on her hips. Evita gasped, a little surprised by the sudden kiss, but she tangled her fingers in his wet curls, pulling him closer to her. When they broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily.

"Sorry," said Franco, resting his forehead against her shoulder. "I've been waiting for a chance to do that all day."

Evita smiled and kissed the side of his head. "I'm sure that was really eating at your self-control," she joked. "Now get changed, if we get back to the hotel soon maybe we can get ready and have a nice dinner together."

Franco straightened, pressing a final kiss on Evita's lips. "That sounds perfect, mi amor."