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“You’ve done something similar before, haven’t you?” I crossed my fingers in my mind.

Bridges’ grin told me what I needed to know. He was intrigued. He might even be sixty percent interested, and that was a good sign.

The sexy man smirked. “I see someone has done his homework. I challenged the guys in my frat to do a charity ride from University Campus to Memphis for St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital. We raised several thousand dollars for the hospital.”

I nodded. “I read about that. You’ve also done a lot of other competition rides. You know how to take a biker for a distance ride. You know what’s needed to train for a road trip, and I want you to head up my team.”

Bridges smirked. “Your team? You have a team for this?”

I swallowed. “Not yet, but I hope you can help me put together a team. I need a team. I know that much for sure.”

I definitely needed a team.

Chapter Four

Bridges

Oh, Weston needed a team all right. He didn’t know why or how much, but he needed a team.

I walked to my workbench and returned to my task. “What do you expect this team to do for you? This team you have yet to assemble?”

My tone was flat as the words tumbled out of my mouth. If Weston seriously wanted to make a cross-country trek for charity, he needed a reality check.

I’d done something similar more than once, but I could tell Weston wasn’t completely committed to his journey yet. What he was proposing wasn’t simple at all. It was a major endeavor, but it wasn’t anything I wasn’t willing to do.

Weston stared at me before he looked away. “I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like this, and I hoped maybe you could help me figure it out, Bridges.”

I stopped sanding the carbon fiber bicycle frame I’d created, turning to stare at the gorgeous guy wringing his hands as he sat on a stool by my drafting table. I had no idea why he was so nervous.

“So, your goal is?”

“I want to show people I’m not as much of a spoiled brat as they might think. The plan I put together in my head was that maybe I could make donations to charities in cities along the way as I bike to San Francisco, and then I could make a sizeable donation when I arrive in San Francisco.

“I need a temporary backer to front me the money, but as soon as I finish the ride and prove to the board of Aames Investments that I’m responsible, I’ll regain access to my trust. I can pay the money back then.”

I nodded, hearing him not so clearly asking me to front him the money. I’d do it. “Okay, let’s start with when you’re planning to do all this?”

“Well, the optimal time would be in June. Pride month.”

No way could I hold my laugh. “So, wait. You’re going to ride a bicycle from Manhattan to San Francisco in two weeks?”

“How far is it?” Weston asked. Shouldn’t he have known that answer?

I hadn’t done the forensics on his request, but I quickly checked the mileage on my phone. “It’s more than thirty-seven hundred miles if you take the southern route which has less mountains to climb. Thirty-two hundred if you go north, but that’s a tougher trek. How many miles are you riding every day right now?”

West swallowed, his throat moving in a very stimulating way. “Uh, I’ve been riding from my parents’ home on the Upper East side to Battery Park and back for exercise every day.”

I did a quick calculation and laughed. “Up and back? That’s twelve miles. How many days do you want the trip to San Francisco to take?”

Weston’s face paled. “I mean, a couple of weeks, right?”

His gullibility—or foolhardiness—made me speechless. Nobody could ever ride a bike across the country in two weeks. His innocence was stunning. I tried not to be critical, but come the fuck on?

The pity I felt for Weston Aames was palpable, and I hated it. He needed guidance years ago, and as much as Claude had helped me, he’d completely failed with his own son.

“If you rode a hundred miles a day, it would take thirty-two or thirty-seven days to make that ride, depending on which way you traveled. Can you ride a hundred miles a day? You’d need to add rest days into the timeline, which means you’d need to ride more than a hundred miles a day.

“You’re riding twelve miles a day right now? How will you work up to more than that?”