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“Of course,” he scoffs. “Seven-eleven is an automatic winner. Ask any craps dealer. We were bound by the odds.”

“You and your superstitions.” I roll my eyes, but my insides are turning into mush.

“Hasn’t led me astray. If my dad has taught me anything, it’s that I shouldn’t take a good hand for granted.”

“Are you saying I’m a good hand?”

“The best.” Chance clears his throat. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Holy smokes, this is it. My pulse is going wild, thumping like a stampede of mustangs. It’s a feat not to squirm and reveal the jitters eating me up.

“I’m listening,” I manage to whisper.

Chance’s smirk reveals the dimple in his right cheek. “Not here. Meet me at The Paddock. Seven o’clock.”

The urge to squeak twists my tongue. “Can we split a milkshake?”

“Only if it’s hot fudge with extra whipped cream.”

“As if there’s another choice.” I trap my bottom lip between my teeth, deciding to test my theory. “What about a basket of fries?”

“Whatever you want, Wildflower.”

“This is starting to sound like a date.”

Chance’s eyes go all soft and sweet as he stares at me. He loops his index finger around mine, securing our secret symbol. “That’s exactly what it is.”

My truck is idling in front of The Paddock, but I can’t go inside. Gemma is waiting for me to change the direction of our friendship. That was my plan this morning. Much has changed since then.

Do better.

That’s all the note said. She wants me to do better. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

I grip the steering wheel hard enough to crack it in half. The leather creaks from the abuse, but I don’t hear it. My thoughts are too loud.

Mom left. She actually fucking left. There were plenty of threats over the last several years, which is a surprise to no one since my father is an asshole, but she always stuck around. My older brother and I still relied on her.

That’s no longer the case according to her skipping town without so much as a middle finger salute. My older brother Byron couldn’t care less. He’s too focused on starting his own family. Somehow, he still believes in love after Mom ditched us like expired produce.

Me? I feel hollow.

Rotten.

Worthless.

Just when things were finally looking up, Mom ripped the rug out from under me. I’d been on a hot streak. Too hot. With graduation behind me and the rodeo circuit calling my name, I felt on top of the world. It was bound to crash down around me. I just never expected it to involve Gemma.

This is a sign. My intuition hasn’t steered me wrong since I gave those three taps to my saddle before riding that bronc to a championship buckle. Those superstitions are all I have to guide me.

Seven-eleven isn’t a winner for us. I’m not meant to take the leap. It will only lead to more pain. Gemma deserves a fairytale I can’t provide. She’ll try to convince me that we belong together, but I’ll only drag her down. That type of happiness isn’t in the cards even if I stack the deck.

I mean, hell. My own mother lost her faith in me. She used to call me her lucky penny. After almost nine years of trying for another baby, I finally came along. That’s why she named me Chance. Turned out to be a lie.

I smack the back of my head against the seat. Fuck this pity party. It’s time to act.

My stomach clenches, preparing to fight against the punches. I grab my phone and text the girl that will make my message clear. Gemma won’t want anything to do with me after this. My wildflower will grow far beyond the barrier I would’ve trapped her under.

Acidic guilt crawls up my throat as I type. Marie will play the part and cling onto me like a newly acquired girlfriend. There’s no room for regret.