Page 18 of Speed Crush
We finish the song, voices trailing into silence. The crowd erupts.
People get up to slap Scott’s back, hand us beers, someone jokingly yells, “Just get married already!”
I laugh, playing it off, but my gaze keeps drifting.
Noah hasn’t moved. By now, people are coming to him—shaking hands, thanking him for the camp and the Grand Opening.
“Appreciate you being here, man.”
“Saw that article already—Cedar Falls is famous now!”
“You’re a worthy F1 legend, Verelli!”
And still, his focus doesn’t shift from me, even when his hands are busy signing autographs.
Heat prickling behind my knees. A pulse low in my belly I didn’t ask for.
I feel it. Everywhere.
Scott hands me a beer and leans in. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I lie.
“You sure? Verelli seems to have that look.”
I arch a brow. “What look?”
Scott shrugs. “The one you hate. Flashy. Cocky. Like he’s about to say something clever and undress you with his eyes. Or throw you over his shoulder. Not sure which.”
I blink and try to divert his attention. “You know, you’re basically describing yourself with the other ladies?”
Scott laughs but doesn’t back off. Instead, he lingers nearby—close enough to be a buffer if needed, far enough to let me handle myself. It’s what he’s always done. My shield without making it a thing.
I’m leaning against a post near the dance floor when Noah’s shadow falls over me.
“Hell of a performance, Songbird.”
My body tightens. Every nerve goes on high alert. "Thank you."
“That's it?” he murmurs, stepping closer, reading me like he’s hoping for a tell.
“Sounded like a love song.”
I scoff, but my mouth goes dry. “Itisa love song. But you’re imagining things.”
He tilts his head. “Am I?”
Before I can answer, Scott’s beside me too.
“Scott Maddox,” Scott says, offering his hand to Noah.
“Noah Verelli,” Noah replies, voice smooth but steel-threaded.
They shake. It’s polite. Firm. Like a male-coded warfare, a silent showdown with plaid and precision jawlines.
“You enjoying the hometown hospitality?” Scott’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
Noah steps forward deliberately, claiming the space between us like he owns it.
