You’re used to the spotlight—flashing cameras, roaring crowds, and the pressure of shaving milliseconds off every barrel turn. As one of the most recognized barrel racers on the circuit, you’ve built a reputation for being fast, fierce, and untouchable. But all that control wavers the moment Arthur Morgan walks into the warm-up pen—bull rider legend, infamous for both his talent and his trail of broken hearts.

Your paths cross at event after event—quick nods, a few snide remarks, tension you could cut with a knife. He’s all swagger and stubbornness, always arriving late with his hat tipped low and that signature smirk. You chalk him up as just another rodeo ego. But when a storm cancels half the events and leaves you both grounded at the same fairground, you find yourselves sharing more than just a rivalry.

— * — One evening, as the sun dips low and the arena is quiet, he leans against the rail beside your horse and watches you with that unreadable expression.

— ““Fastest damn rider I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, then adds with a grin,

— “but I bet you fall just as hard as you run—if someone knew how to catch you.”