Page 3 of Losing Sleep
After depositing my duffleand yoga mat in the trunk, I climbed into Grey’s black SUV, setting my navy-blue backpack on the floor next to my feet. I cringed at the wave of heat that greeted me as I settled into my gray pleather seat. The summer heat was already out in full force in Utah County. That was one positive about this trip—Island Park, Idaho would definitely be cooler than Pleasant Grove, Utah. I could already feel sweat beading at my hairline as I buckled my seatbelt and waited for Grey to turn on the AC. The car smelled faintly of fast food, but it was clean and well maintained.
“Road trip, road trip.” Grey settled into the driver’s seat and grinned. “I’ve never been to Island Park. You?”
“A few times. It’s a beautiful area.” I buckled my seatbelt and fisted my hands in my lap, resisting the temptation to throw the door open and run upstairs to the safety of my apartment.
Forget about adventure and escape. I could avoid my problems from my bedroom just as well as in a cabin surrounded by nature. If I stayed, I’d have easy access to restaurants and the internet, not to mention I could hit up some yoga classes at the rec center. I’d just avoid social media, with its photos of Emily and Lyle’s happy day. I could even distract myself with work. The phones were guaranteed to be busy with a recent product launch, and I doubted my team would be sad if I canceled my time off request—
The car rumbled to life, and I flinched as music blasted from the speakers.
“Sorry about that.” Grey turned down the music, backed out of the parking lot, and pulled onto the road. Just like that, my last chance for escape vanished. “I forget how loud my music is sometimes. Though I feel like I should warn you—Tory gave me a heads up about your musical tastes, and I’m not sure how I feel about letting you control the radio.” He quirked an eyebrow, humor lacing his tone.
“What do you mean ‘she warned you’?” An insult to my music could not be ignored.
“She said your tastes are…‘specific.’” He pitched his voice higher on the last word in a poor imitation of Tory. “She didn’t give details. I’m more of a classics man, myself.” He adjusted the volume, bringing the music back to a blaring level.
I listened to the music pounding out of his speakers, recognizing the melody. “Motley Crüe is fine. Though personally I prefer Supertramp. Their sound is more my style.”
“You know classic rock?” Grey fiddled with the volume again, making it so I didn’t have to yell to be heard over the bass.
“What? Girls can’t like classic rock?” I shrugged, trying not to laugh at the shocked expression on Grey’s face. I’d gotten that reaction more than once from men when they learned what I liked to listen to.
“Based on Tory’s description, I thought you’d be into some new age, Indie meditation stuff, not classic rock.” Grey shrugged, his eyebrows pinched as he tried to process this new information.
“Tory has teased me about my music tastes since the day we met. Something about quiet people having secretly loud passions,” I said, humor lacing my tone as I thought back to my second year in college when I’d been randomly assigned Tory as a roommate. Little had I known she’d turn into one of my best friends, even if she made side comments about my music.
Tory had quickly gotten over those comments when we’d used classic rock dance battles to alleviate stress after long days of work and class. There really was a rock song for every scenario. Rough day at work? “Working for the Weekend” by Loverboy should do the trick. Bad break up? Pat Benatar had your back. Need a good workout beat? AC/DC all the way.
Though I had yet to find the perfect music mix for fixing a broken heart.
As the familiar beat vibrated through the car, I felt my tension ease. I kicked off my flip flops and settled against the headrest, familiar streets passing outside my window soothing me as we headed towards the freeway. I could do this. I could relax and have fun, let go of my worries and be in the moment.
“I should have known Tory was messing with me,” Grey said, turning onto the freeway. “She hates my music choices too. Says I play my music too loud, has since the day she moved in next door.”
I snorted a laugh. “Sounds about right. She hates loud noises. Back in college, I took her with me to a concert once. I’m never making that mistake again, at least not without earplugs for her.”
Thoughts of Tory had me reaching for my phone. But instead of a text from my friend, my phone vibrated with a notificationfrom my office’s messaging system. I read the message, stifling a groan. The question was from Angela, a college student on my team who used me as her answer source instead of the database of approved responses that could be tricky to search. I bit back my annoyance and typed a quick response before switching to my texts and pulling up my conversation thread with Tory.
ME:We’re on our way. Happy birthday! Hope you’re ready to celebrate.
TORY:The celebration has already begun. [winky face emoji] Drive safe. See you soon!
TORY:And don’t murder Grey.
I rolled my eyes. My phone buzzed again, and another message from Angela stared back at me.
ME:I’m on vacation. Ask Drew.
I could answer her questions, but it would be better if she reached out to our supervisor. He had the title and extra pay to deal with Angela and her requests. I just had the technical knowledge and years of experience. Not that it had mattered when they’d interviewed for the supervisor position three months ago, picking Drew with his charm and connection to the owners over me.
You could always quit.
The thought had crossed my mind on more than one occasion of late. After all, working a call center job was hardly my idea of a post-college dream job. One of my yoga instructors had recently mentioned that I’d make a good yoga teacher, and I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. Though getting certified would take time and teaching yoga wasn’t exactly an easy career choice.
Working at the call center was steady and stable. I felt comfortable and needed. Even if they needed me a little too much at times, messaging me when I was off the clock like right now.
ANGELA:He’s not at his desk.
ME:I’m also not at my desk.
