𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕃𝕖𝕗𝕥 𝕋𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕤

Thirty

In the whirlwind of activities leading up to the Championship race in Phoenix, Bailey found herself swept up in a frenzy of meetings, virtual sponsor engagements, and relentless NASCAR media obligations. Each day seemed to blur into the next as she darted from one commitment to another, scarcely finding a moment to catch her breath.

Collapsed on the couch beside Chase in their apartment, Bailey let out an exasperated groan, feeling utterly drained from the chaos of the past few days.

"Why did I ever think Championship week would be business as usual?" she lamented, sinking into the cushions.

Chase chuckled, pulling her close as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Beats me," he replied with a sympathetic smile. "But hey, at least I get to field the same questions on repeat, right?"

~~~

"Any plans to pop the question?" Ryan inquired, sliding another cold beer across the table to Chase.

"After the Phoenix race," Chase replied with a grin.

"And regardless of the championship outcome?"

"Absolutely. Win or lose, I'm going for it. Just debating whether to do it in the quiet of our private space or amid the adrenaline rush of Victory Lane."

"I'd say keep it private. Bailey's not one for the limelight, and proposing on TV might make her uncomfortable, even if she'd say 'yes' in a heartbeat."

"You're right. I wouldn't want to put her on the spot like that. Maybe once the crowds disperse, and it's just us, that's when I'll go for it."

~~~

As time hastened its pace like a fleeting whisper, the anticipation surged as the final race of the uproarious 2020 NASCAR Cup Series season loomed ahead. Every revving engine echoed the stakes: this race was the arbiter, the decisive moment that would anoint the champion. Would it be Chase, wielding prowess behind the wheel, carrying the championship trophy triumphantly? Or perhaps the victory laurels would grace the brow of Joey, Denny, or Brad, each a titan in their own right?

Amongst the throngs of fervent fans and the bustling pit crews, Bailey brimmed with anticipation, though she masked it adeptly behind a facade of composure. Her heart danced with nerves, yet she shielded Chase from her own jitters, determined not to add an ounce of burden to his already burdened shoulders. Despite his claims of being 'as cool as a cucumber,' she knew the weight he carried.

With a silent nod, Bailey granted Alan and Chase a moment for final discourse before the race's commencement. Their conversation, laden with strategies and contingencies, served as the last rites before battle. As they conferred, Bailey ascended to the pit box, settling into her perch. It felt peculiar deviating from their customary pre-race rituals, but this was no ordinary race; it was the championship showdown, and deviation from routine seemed a trivial sacrifice in the face of the grandeur of the occasion.

As pit road cleared and drivers nestled into their cockpits, the atmosphere crackled with tension, electrified by the impending duel. Fans leaned in, breaths bated, eager for the starting command to ignite the crescendo of racing prowess. Amidst the anticipation, the team conducted a final radio check, a last-minute affirmation of readiness for the spectacle that awaited.

"You read me, Eddie?" the query crackled through the radio waves.

"Yeah, I'm locked in," Chase's response carried the quiet determination of a warrior prepared for battle.

Bailey, her headset snugly in place, leaned forward with a suggestion. "You know, our radio checks could use a serious upgrade in the fun department. Seriously, they're as exciting as watching paint dry."