Page 20 of Losing Sleep
When it was my turn to tell Dot goodbye, she pulled me in tight for one more hug and whispered in my ear, “Don’t forget what we talked about. Don’t let a good one like that slip through your fingers.”
She nodded at Grey, the gesture far from subtle as she released me and waved us on our way.
As if I could possibly forget about Grey and how just looking at him sent my pulse pounding. I told myself the pounding was from nerves or anxiety, but I wasn’t fooling myself. After our conversation in the dark of night, I’d found it increasingly difficult to force Grey back into the safe, platonic box I’d stuck him in when he’d picked me up yesterday. A box that didn’t risk heartbreak.
When I finally climbed into Grey’s car and kicked off my shoes, scuffed tennis shoes this time, I breathed an audible sigh of relief. While I adored Dot and Hank, their questions and pointed looks were getting to be a lot. I could only dodge Dot’s raised eyebrows for so long. I had never been so grateful for stale, fast food-scented air and the blast of a car AC, knowing the escape it promised.
I settled into my seat, connecting my phone to the speaker and fiddling with the music to give my hands and brain something to think about besides Dot’s commentary and sharing a bed with Grey. I finally landed on some Loverboy, the familiar melody easing the tension in my shoulders.
“If I’m going to survive this drive, I’m going to need caffeine,” I said, scanning the street for the closest gas station.
“We can make that happen,” Grey said.
A few minutes later, he pulled into the drive through of a local soda shop, and I could have cheered as I looked over the menu with its variety of drinks and syrup flavors.
“What’s your poison?” Grey asked, turning to me with a quirked eyebrow.
“Pepsi with green apple, strawberry, and raspberry.” I rattled off my order without hesitation, already anticipating the burn of soda that would come with my first sip.
“Definitely not a combination I would have pegged you for. I figured you would want something less fussy.” Grey lookedat me, pondering for a moment before giving a decisive nod. “Maybe something with lime and a hint of cream.”
“Don’t let appearances deceive you. I’m very particular about my flavored sodas,” I said, pulling my wallet out of the front pocket of my backpack. “Because I asked you to stop, I’ve got this. It’s the least I can do, since you’re driving.”
Grey waved away the offer. “I’m not worried about it. Just know I may have to try your drink. It sounds weird, but maybe it’s as delicious as you claim.”
I wasn’t big on sharing drinks, but I’d make an exception if it meant I could have caffeine running through my veins for the rest of the drive.
“Deal,” I said, slipping my wallet back into my backpack.
Grey placed the order, and we pulled forward with me only half listening to what was going on around me. The three and a half hours ahead seemed daunting, especially with our day-long delay. We should be able to reach the cabin before nightfall, but knowing Grey, we were likely to take a few more detours that would postpone our arrival time. Maybe if I knew to anticipate the delays, they wouldn’t bug me quite as much.
“Hope you’re thirsty.”
I turned to find Grey offering me a 44-ounce Styrofoam cup, a giant grin splitting his face like he was a kid showing off his newest toy. I could feel the ice shifting in the cup as I accepted the offering with a thank you and smile of my own.
“You didn’t tell me a size, so I guessed bigger was better, in this case,” Grey said as he pulled back onto the road, his car spouting out directions to help us get back on track.
“Bless you,” I said. I took a big swallow, the sugar and caffeine hitting my system and causing the tension to ease from my shoulders. I took another long pull before placing the cup in the cupholder next to Grey’s equally large cup.
“What’s your drink of choice?” I asked, turning slightly to face Grey.
“I’m a Mountain Dew guy. I switch up the mix-ins, but it’s always Mountain Dew.” He shrugged, as if his drink choice was a given.
“I’ve never really gotten into Mountain Dew. It tastes like caffeinated Sprite,” I said, leaning back into my seat and watching Cache Valley pass by outside my window.
Grey scoffed. “This coming from a woman who drinks Pepsi.”
“What’s wrong with Pepsi?” I sat up, ready to defend my favorite drink to the end. “Also, if you’re going to mock my drink, you don’t get to try any.”
I picked up my cup, jokingly moving it out of Grey’s reach.
“I can live with that. Nothing’s wrong with Pepsi if you don’t have any taste buds.”
“Drinking Pepsi was my mom’s thing,” I said, opting to give him a glimpse into my life that I rarely shared with others. Grey’s vulnerability the night before and easy conversation had me wanting to be brave. “She told me it was her sanity juice when I was a kid. I was always stealing sips from her drinks until, finally, in junior high she’d let me get my own bottle when we stopped at the grocery store or gas station. We’d talk about our days while sipping on a Pepsi. So really, I guess no other soda stood a chance for me.”
I tried to look nonchalant as I waited for Grey’s response.
“I guess if you’re going to pull the mom card, I can’t tease you too much about your drink choice.” He gave me a wink over his shoulder before a mischievous grin stretched across his face. “Though, I don’t know if I can trust someone who drinks Pepsi.”
