Page 2 of Highway To Destiny

Although exhausted, I was proud I’d walked so many miles with a heavy pack on my back. I was in good shape, having been a competitive swimmer through high school and the first two years of college. I took a break from the swim team in my junior and senior years at Portland State University to focus on my studies, which paid off when I graduated with honors. I continued with the physical weight training for competitive swimming, and I loved to swim after the demanding workouts.

A couple of guys I’d dated casually were drawn to my swimmer’s physique, and I liked being wanted for my athletic appearance. I dressed casually but never looked sloppy. I’d always worn snug-fitting T-shirts and jeans and noticed men and women giving me second glances. But damn, put me in a suit when it was called for, and I was sex on a stick.

I hiked around a bend and finally saw my respite a few hundred yards away through the waves of asphalt heat. It was one of the larger highway rest areas, for which I was grateful. I figured it might be easier to bed down there for the night if I did so on the boundary, out of sight of vehicles. Luckily, the nights were still warm enough to sleep outside.

I noticed a couple of cars parked and the same semi that had roared past me. I took notice of the bright red cab and the newer white trailer it was hauling. It didn’t have company logos but sported plenty of yellow and white lights along the sides. As I got closer, I noticed the driver behind the wheel with the engine running, but I ignored him as I forged ahead.

I made a beeline for the far side of the brick building where the men’s room entrance was. Slipping the pack off and stretching my overused back muscles felt good, and I sighed in relief. I used the facilities, washed my hands, and splashed my face with cold water. Feeling slightly better, I hefted the pack back on my shoulders and decided to scope out the land around the building to find a place to bed down later.

I left the men’s room and was close enough to see the man in the driver’s seat of the big rig since he was parked close to the building. Perhaps I was staring too long, trying to make out his features, when I noticed him staring intently back at me.

His face was striking, with angular features and a strong jawline. He wore his hair just over his ears under a baseball cap emblazoned with a logo and sported a close-cropped beard just past the scruff stage. He looked older, which only intensified my lustful thoughts.

I’d never pursued an older man before, but I’d held that fantasy for a few years now. As a young, recently graduated college student, I had kept my desire to experience the company of an older man hidden from my family. I found older men, like my past professors, to be more interesting and mentally stimulating. I’d casually dated a couple of guys my age when I was an undergrad, sticking to the norms, but I didn’t find their company interesting—except for the sex. Those casual relationships always fizzled out.

I didn’t grow up with a father. He’d been a cop and had gotten killed in the line of duty. I was a little over a year old at the time. My mother never remarried and focused on raising two young boys. When I was old enough to understand, my mother told me I’d been adopted as a newborn. They’d wanted a larger family after my brother had been born, but she had a couple of miscarriages, and because of that, they agreed not to keep trying. Instead, they decided to adopt.

My father was killed about fourteen months after I was adopted. I’d always longed for a father figure in my life. Perhaps that translated into my fascination with older men. I felt that if I’d made my attraction to older men known to my mother and brother while still living at home, they probably would have thought I had daddy issues. I kept that fear to myself.

The truck driver didn’t avert his gaze when I caught him looking at me. Instead, his eyes, under the brim of his cap, lingered long enough to send a jolt of want through my chest. I froze momentarily, unsure if I should look away and keep walking.

I bashfully turned away but looked back at him with a slight smile. His gaze didn’t falter, but my gut told me there was nothing to indicate he might be dangerous. My heart skipped a beat as I kept the smile on my face.

I spent the next ten minutes walking around the rest area, trying to find a place to park myself for the night, but there weren’t any secluded spots where I wouldn’t be seen. The thought of being roused by a highway patrolman in the middle of the night didn’t set well, and I didn’t need any further aggravation.

Disappointment and frustration settled in. “Shit…now what?” I said out loud with a grimace.

Suddenly, I had an idea, and a smile crept up to the corners of my mouth. Throwing caution to the wind, I decided to take a brazen step, not truly thinking it was the smartest thing to do.

3

MASON

Why am I staring at a hiker with a backpack?As our eyes met, it dawned on me that he was a good-looking man. I’d never looked at another guy that way or even thought about it before, being straight. But I couldn’t stop being mesmerized by how strikingly handsome he was.

His skin had a sun-kissed glow, and although his hair was a darker blond, he had bright highlights that caught the late afternoon sun when he turned his head. I hadn’t seen his hair earlier as he wore a brimmed bucket hat, probably to shield his scalp from the blistering sun. When he emerged from the men’s room, he’d ditched the hat, revealing his arresting highlighted mane.

He was in great physical shape. He wore a tight, V-necked white t-shirt that showed off a slim waist, revealing defined abs and a flat stomach. His obliques dove into his low-slung cargo shorts, which showed tanned, muscular legs, and he also sported hiking boots. His tanned arms had corded muscles that flexed when he adjusted his pack, and I thought he might be a serious athlete, considering his appearance. After taking in his physique, I didn’t question his ability to carry such a large backpack, but as strong as he looked, I thought he was showing signs of exhaustion.

He dropped his gaze, but I noticed a smile when our eyes connected. I watched him walk around the rest area for some time as if he was looking for something, and it became apparent he looked discouraged. Again, my eyes were riveted on him, and he caught me staring. I immediately looked down at my phone with a shake of my head, trying to look busy and not come across as creepy. When enough seconds had ticked by, I placed the cell phone in its holder. In my periphery, I noticed he was making a beeline to my cab.Fuck!

I didn’t want to spend the time chatting, or heaven forbid, him asking for a ride I wouldn’t oblige him with. But I rolled down my window, not wanting to come across as an asshole. He stopped and looked up at me.

Holy shit.

The brilliance of his emerald eyes was intoxicating, rekindling memories of something I’d seen only once, many years ago. Even back then, they had captivated me completely. As he looked up at me and spoke, his words dissolved into muffled sounds lost to my ears. I was spellbound, held prisoner by his focused gaze.

Realizing I wasn’t responding, all I could do was blink and spit out, “Uh, wha…uh, pardon me?” as I returned to reality.

Unbothered by my stumbling, he repeated his question, this time with a hint of hesitation. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but I was wondering if you could help me out?”

“What seems to be the problem?” I asked, my eyes never leaving his as I lifted the brim of my cap.Damn, he’s incredibly good-looking, and those eyes aren’t helping!I thought.

He broke eye contact and took his pack off his shoulders. Looking back up, in a somewhat pleading yet confident way, he said, “I’m headed down to La Grande to start classes in a couple of days at EOU, and hiking isn’t going to get me there fast enough.” He looked down and up again and sheepishly added, “Dumb, I know, trying to hike that far, but if you’re heading that direction, I could really use a lift, even if it’s just part of the way?”

I’d never been one to pick up a hitchhiker as it throws me off schedule, and most of the time, I don’t get good vibes from them. But there was something about him, and being a college student, I felt I couldn’t leave him stranded. His destination wasn’t out of my way since my route took me to La Grande. I had a quick drop-off at one of the smaller mom-and-pop convenience stores near the campus, and then my last delivery was just outside town—no time wasted, no harm done.

I fidgeted and adjusted my cap. “Sure, climb in. You can put your pack behind the seat. I’m heading that way myself.” I figured I’d need to coach him, as it could be difficult getting into a semi.

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