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“It’s an investment,” Hazel says, her expression firm. “With a legitimate return. I wouldn’t be proposing it if I didn't believe that.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. This isn’t just a sponsor; it’s more than that. It’s a lifeline. I can run the summer circuit, even if I’m living on nothing but grit, and I get to help Clark Ranch gain visibility every time I pin that number to my back. It’s a win-win.

For a second, it feels like this whole thing might actually be possible. The weight of the last few months starts to lift, even if only a fraction.

Until I glance at Chace, and he’s wearing a shit-eating grin that looks like it’s carved into his jaw. He’s enjoying every agonizing second of my ignorance.

“Okay,” I say, a prickle of unease cutting through the gratitude. “What’s the catch?”

Chace’s grin widens, his gaze sliding from Eli to me. "Oh, Sunshine," he purrs, his voice thick with amusement. "There's no catch. Just... added value."

"Shut up, Chace,” Eli cuts in, “But there is one condition."

There it is. I knew it. Nobody offers you a dream for free, and apparently, the price of my sponsorship is whatever condition Eli has yet to disclose.

Beside me, Chace’s grin grows until it’s practically taking up the entire booth. He looks like he’s been waiting for this moment since he ordered his first beer. I narrow my eyes at him, but he just winks, completely unbothered.

"What condition?" I ask, my voice wary.

Across the table, Hazel suddenly picks up a menu, like she just remembered she’s starving.

Eli clears his throat. "You won't be traveling alone."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

"The circuit isn't Ashford Ridge, Addie. It’s a completely different beast, and I’m not talking about the caliber of the riders."

"It's barrel racing, Eli, not a combat zone. I think I can navigate a gas station and a parking lot without adult supervision."

Instead of answering, he folds his arms across his chest.

"Please tell me you’re not talking about sending a chaperone. I’m twenty-three, not twelve."

"I’m not talking about a chaperone," Eli says, his voice staying maddeningly calm. "I’m talking about safety. It’s one thing to haul to Billings for a weekend. It’s another to spend an entire summer living on the road. If something goes wrong with your truck, or if Dusty gets sick, I need to know you’ve got someone who knows what to do."

"I’m perfectly capable of calling a tow truck, Eli."

"That’s just an example, Addie. You know what I mean," Eli counters. "I need you to have someone with you who knows the life, someone who knows the arenas, and someone I actually trust."

The table goes dead silent. Hazel reaches over and gives Eli’s arm a squeeze, but she still won't look at me. Shae is pressing her lips together; her shoulders are shaking in a way that suggests she’s trying not to vibrate out of her skin with laughter.

Beside me, Chace takes a long, slow drink of his beer. He’s still grinning.

Oh no.

"No!" I practically shout.

I point a finger directly at Chace’s chest. "Absolutely not!"

Chace lowers his bottle, looking wounded. "Ouch, Sunshine. And here I thought we were getting along, having a moment."

"We are not having a moment. We are having a disaster in the making." I turn toward Eli, desperate. "Tell me you’re joking. Tell me this isn’t your plan."

"It’s the plan," Eli confirms.

"Chace?"

"Present," Chace says, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. "And I’ve already started drafting our road trip playlist. It’s mostly 90s country and power ballads. You’re going to love it."