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Noble has been gone for years. He’s a whole different person now. It’s possible, however improbable, I was delusional to think I knew him at all.

I need to think. Because even though Noble was half-kidding when he said we need to work on my trust issues, I’m starting to think maybe he was right.

I walk out of the kitchen, aimless, when I hear Nell say, “Noble, your plan worked. The only thing left to do is sign the sponsorship papers and get ready for a brand-new wardrobe.”

I grab a cardigan from the hook by the door and rush outside and into the Bronco because I have to get away from him and from Nell and from the horrible fear that Noble Kane may have just broken my heart again.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Noble

Iturn and face Nell. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

I saw the look on Hattie’s face. I know what she’s thinking. Nell practically implied our relationship was a PR ploy, and I know that the ice where Hattie’s concerned is already thin. No way I was going to let her stand here and listen to that.

I look at Nell. Her face is blank. She has no clue.

“You said that I’m only here to fix my reputation,” I say, voice firm.

She looks miffed. “So?”

I can feel the heat rise up the back of my neck.

“Nell. I don’t care about my reputation. I don’t care about Diamondback. I’m not even sure I want to keep riding.” I hit the countertop with both hands, frustrated.

“What?” She stands. “You can’t be serious!”

“I’m dead serious!” I raise my voice and square off in front of her. “When I said I needed some time to work some things out, I thought you’d actually let me take some time to work some things out.”

It takes a second for Nell to digest this. I can practically see her calculating her next move. She’s no pushover. She knows how to get things done. Usually, Nell is the toughest one in the room, even when that room is full of men. But today, she went too far.

“Let’s get something straight here, Noble,” she says, evenly. “I’ve put up with your ‘off the field’ issues. I’ve spun stories to keep your reputation as clean as I can, because the team you’re employed by,” she emphasizes those two words, leaning in, “seems to think your talent is worth it. I didn’t spend the last week of my life scouring every small town north of Vegas looking for you just to have you tuck tail and run.”

She takes a folder out of her bag, pulls out a sheet of paper, and slides it across the counter to me.

“So. Here’s how this is going to go. You sign that, we all get paid, and you find it in your refreshed heart to get back to work and defend your title.”

I don’t move.

“You can keep the small-town girlfriend or not. I don’t really care. Better for your image, truth be told, but what you’ve done already is enough to form a pretty solid narrative.”

I tap the counter softly with my fist.

An endorsement from Diamondback is worth millions. Like Nike for a basketball player. But signing this paper means press tours. Commercials. Guest appearances.

They’d own me. And I’ve been seriously thinking about getting out altogether. I don’t know if this is what I want. And I especially can’t sign it without talking to Hattie first. I won’t.

I stick my hands on my hips and blow out a breath. “What if I don’t care about the title or the money or any of this, Nell?”

“What has gotten into you?” she says, incredulously. “That’s the whole point⁠—”

“The point of what?” I say, a little louder than I mean to. “My whole reason to exist on this planet is to stand on some podium and hold some trophy? Because if it is—” I shake my head because I can’t speak that fear out loud.

If that’s all there is, then why did I still feel so empty?

Being here has shown me a different way, and I’m not sure the two can coexist.

“Okay.” Nell seems resigned—but I know she’s just changing tactics. “Noble, look, I get it. You’re here, around people who knew you before. You feel nostalgic. But that’s all this is. Once you get back? Once you grab the rope and ride, and you hear thousands of fans and take home a nice paycheck? You’ll figure out that here—” she makes a circle with her finger— “isn’t where you belong.”