Page 13 of Worthy

“Still not sure that’s a good idea, Solo.” He stares out the window, a distant look on his face. “The art of not giving a fuck doesn’t really lead to success.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to stop caring, I just want to care less about what people think. Like you said, it’s my life.” I point to my chest. “If I’m happy with my choices nothing else matters.”

“Yeah, okay,” he relents. “Do what makes you happy. I better get back to work.” He pushes himself off the counter and heads toward the back door.

“Wait,” I bark, jogging to the table by the front door and returning with his keys. I hold them out to him, but instead of taking them he just stares blankly ahead.

“I can’t get the trailer moved until this afternoon,” he says flatly.

“I don’t have anywhere to be today.” I jiggle the keys.

He reluctantly takes them, his fingers brushing lightly over mine. I inhale sharply at the electricity the contact elicits, holding my breath to see if he notices. If he does, he doesn’t comment, just pockets the keys and turns toward the door.

“Thanks again for breakfast,” he says quietly as he steps outside.

Chapter four

Cade

Deacon and I make plans to meet at the town concert after work, leaving me just enough time to run home for a quick shower. That doesn’t really make me feel clean, though. It only washes off what’s on the surface. My insides are just as murky as they’ve been since this morning, when a beautiful guy had the nerve to tell me—me—he respects how I live my life.

What a joke. Even I know what a poor choice I am for a role model.

At twenty-five years old, most people are starting to make something of themselves. They’ve got some value beyond just swinging a hammer and showing tourists a good time. I don’t. My priorities are to chase as much adrenaline as I can find on the mountain, fuck, and do just enough work to keep my dad’s company running smoothly, in that order. If I didn’t owe it to my dad not to screw up, my job wouldn’t even make the top three.

I’m hardly setting a good example.

Up until today, that didn’t bother me, but knowing Maddox—a friggin PhD candidate for God’s sake—sees something of value in me gives me a sense of responsibility I’ve never felt before. The entire conversation with him has had my stomach in knots all day. I don’tknow if I’m feeling guilty that he sees value in me… value I’m not sure is there. Or maybe I’m just scared he’ll figure out he’s wrong about me. Either way, for the first time in—maybe ever—I’m questioning the way I live my life, and wondering what I actually have to offer.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I jump in my truck and head toward town. My thoughts don’t usually run this deep, and it’s stressing me out. I need to relax with good music, cold beer, and batshit crazy friends. The good thing is, they serve all of those in the park every Monday.

But first…food. Getting drunk on a work night is a bad idea.

I swing by the market on my way to town since they usually have an expansive selection of pre-made sandwiches that travel well. After grabbing one from the deli, I head for the snack aisle for some chips, nearly colliding with Maddox as I round the corner.

Again.

What the hell?I’ve lived here my whole life and never physically ran into anyone, but I’ve yet to go a single day in his vicinity without running into him. It’s like he’s a damn magnet. A beautiful, captivating magnet, drawing me toward him full-force.

Maddox lifts a tentative hand, drumming his fingers in the air. Not only is he smiling upon seeing me–for the first time ever–but it reaches his eyes. It’s genuine. He’s fucking happy to see me, forcing me to resist the urge to smile in return.Shit. “You didn’t run me over this time.”

I try to keep my own expression blank—our earlier conversation and the subsequent soul searching still playing on a loop in my mind—though as per usual, my first instinct is to flirt. Maybe congratulate him on being able to find the market without my help or insist he’ll need me for something else, but that would only invite more conversation. On the off chance that conversation could be as intense as the one we had earlier, the one that left him with the impression I’ma good role model, I shouldn’t encourage anything that will make him think I have redeeming qualities.

I don’t.

Never have.

Never will.

There’s only one thing I’m good for right now, and that’s a good fucking time.

“Guess this old dog can still learn a few new tricks,” I tease, finally finding my voice. “Pretty soon I won’t get in your way at all.” I start to walk around him but he blocks my exit.

“You’re not in my way.” Maddox looks at me curiously, like I’m not making any sense.

Maybe to him I’m not, but I’m trying to be a good person here. You know, the whole turn-over-a-new-leaf thing. And I might not be currently in his way, but he’s certainly in mine.

“Oh, good. Well, see you around then.” I nod and try again to move past him, but he stays still.

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