Page 46 of Worthy

″You implied it. If you want to come, come. But don’t do it because you have some backward notion that I need a guide or a babysitter. I’m not helpless.” He reaches for the door, determined to get past me.

His sass is kind of hot, but he’s damn defensive about his independence. I wonder why.

″I know you don’t need a babysitter.” I step back and pull the door open so he can get in. “I was only teasing about the rescue thing. What trail are you doing?”

He studies me for a moment, like he’s trying to decide if I really am teasing. I must look convincing, because he finally relaxes. “Highline.”

″That’s one of my favorites. Can I come with you?”

His stormy eyes search mine. I’ve never asked to hang out with him before and doing so now seems to have made him suspicious. Eventually he relents. “Fine.”

I swap my work boots for a pair of tennis shoes and grab a water bottle from my truck, then jump in the car with him. He’s focused as he drives, never taking his eyes off the road. I don’t know if that’s just his personality or if I’m making him nervous, so I try to ease the tension.

″Why are you so determined to do things on your own?” I ask.

He grips the steering wheel tighter. Maybe that wasn’t the best topic to bring up right now, but I am curious.

“Is that a bad thing?” He glances briefly at me before turning back to the road.

″No. I’m just not used to that. People here are always helping each other out so I don’t understand why having help makes you think you’re helpless.”

He takes a few deep breaths before answering. “I guess I’m sensitive to people assuming I can’t do things on my own.”

″Why would they assume that?” I frown.

He exhales heavily. “You’re probably well aware, but my family has money, and that makes people think I get everything handed to me.” He casts another quick glance in my direction, and my expression must pass some sort of test because he continues. “It doesn’t help that I could have the handout if I wanted it. Most of us go into the family business, and while we have to earn our place to a degree, there will always be a place. Growing up, people resented me because theythought I didn’t have to work for anything, and I hate being seen like that.”

That totally fits what I know about him, and in a way I can relate. My future has been handed to me, so I know how easy it is to just take it and not find your own way. It couldn’t have been easy to turn all that down, and if I’m honest it makes me respect him even more. I hate how he worries about that though.

″You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.”

″What does that mean?” A cute little wrinkle bisects his eyebrows.

″It means people who assume you’re getting a handout are just jealous that they aren’t, and no matter what you do they’ll assume you had it handed to you. So, don’t waste your time trying to prove them wrong. Prove yourself right. Chase your dream.” I shrug.

″Speaking from experience?” He regards me warily.

″Not really. I’m the guy that’s going to take the career my family’s giving me. I’ve never considered doing anything else. What didn’t you like about your family’s business?” I change the subject.

″I don’t dislike the family business. Managing money means evaluating the different places to invest in, and that part is really interesting. But I thought building something instead of financing it would be even more interesting. And I’d rather be outside than behind a desk. Fewer people.” A slight smile tugs at his lip.

″What made you pick environmental science?” I ask as he pulls into the trailhead.

″An intro-level science class in college. There was a unit on the environment, and we covered climate change, alternate sources of energy… I got hooked.” His smile looks almost wistful, just like my expression gets when I think about riding a trail.What would it be like to think about work that fondly?

Once we’re parked, I grab his bag from the car, but instead of handing it to him I strap it on. He glares at me, I assume because his mind went to that whole helpless thing again, but this isn’t about helping him, it’s just good manners.

We walk in silence for several minutes before he finally gets over my chivalry, if that’s what it’s called, seeing as how we’re two guys. “You hike this trail a lot?” he asks.

″Bike it, usually.”

″You bikethis? These rocks are more like steps. How can you possibly bike this?”

″Years of practice.” I chuckle, forcing myself not to reach for his hand to help him over a big rock. “If you know where to place the tires all you have to do is keep pedaling and the bike rolls over the rocks. And the whole trail isn’t like this, just a few sections, so most of the time you’re pedaling on even terrain.”

″So, when you bike this, you ride up and then turn around and come down?” He looks over his shoulder at the trail we’ve climbed so far.

″Sometimes. I usually do the whole loop though, which is about ten miles. I prefer riding the back part of the trail down.”

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