Page 89 of Speed Crush

She trails off, but I know what she means.

That’s what held her back last night—the reality pressing in around the edges.

My season’s still a month out, but the prep, the commitments—they don’t exactly scream small-town boyfriend. We’re on two different clocks, and neither of us knows how to sync them. Yet.

I study her face. “You’re wondering how this works—with your school, my season."

She nods, her fingers twisting in the blanket.

I get up and head for the drawer. I glance back at her—still curled in the sheets, eyes searching mine like she’s trying to solve a puzzle she’s scared to finish.

“I meant to give you my early Christmas gift last night,” I say, pulling it out and walking back. “Here.”She sits up, brows knit with curiosity as I hand an envelope to her.

She opens it slowly.

“A land deed?” she says, eyes scanning the paper like she’s not convinced it’s real. “This is… your name and mine?”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas, my love.” I smile at her.

“You don’t just… put someone’s name on a property deed, Noah.”

“You’re not someone, June.”

“But… you bought me land!? Is this how billionaires do Christmas?” she asks, stunned.

“Not to impress you as a flex,” I say, voice lower now. “But because I want you to know I see a future here—with you. Not just a season. A home. A place we build together.”

I could’ve given her a bracelet, a key, some symbolic token. But it had to be land. Something real. Rooted. Permanent. Because for the first time, I don’t just want her to visit my world—I want to build one together.

She stares at me, mouth parted. “This is—near the lake?”

“It’s ours, if you want. I mean it, I want to build a home with you. When you're ready.”

She’s quiet for a long time. And something in her softens. “Is this a proposal?”

I grin. “Not marriage. Not yet. This is more like… the teaser trailer. The prequel to the real one.”

She lets out a breath that’s half laugh, half panic. “Noah, this is crazy.”

“Don’t look at the dollar amount,” I say, voice steady. “Just look at my intention. I need you to know—I mean every word. I love you. And I want us to be permanent.”

I watch her closely, and my heart skips a beat when I catch the shift in her expression. Her eyes clear, steady now, and she looks right at me.

"Your job..." she says, like it’s the next logical question. The one standing between us and what our hearts want.

I nod slowly. She’s not wrong. Because if we’re going to make this real, we have to talk about my job. “My job’s not exactly a nine-to-five. You’ve seen what it looks like. Travel. Pressure. Constant prep. It’s not just about race weekends.”

She meets my gaze, her voice quiet but firm. “It’s a whole new world, Noah. And I don’t want to be a distraction. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“I know.”

But the next words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Do you think you can be with me, June?” I reach for her hand without thinking, my fingers curling around hers, needing the contact. Needing her to feel the truth in the question.

She doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes drop, then lift back to mine with something raw and vulnerable in them.

“I don’t know what it looks like yet,” she says softly. “Those few intense days in Italy only offered a glimpse—but I know how I felt. I was excited, Noah. Like maybe I could be part of it. Like maybe I could belong in that world—with you. And I want to try. I want to figure it out. With you.”

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