Page 31 of Road Trip with a Vampire
“We’ll befine,” Becky said.
“We’ve been over this,” Lindsay added in a patient tone she reserved for slow-to-learn students.
We had. Ever since getting their enthusiastic approval for this trip, I’d checked in with them multiple times to give them the chance to change their minds. Each time they’d assured me that not only would the studio be fine if I left, but I alsodeserveda vacation.
“I just don’t feel good about leaving you two to do all the work on your own,” I said.
“It’s running a yoga studio, not brain surgery,” Becky quipped. “Lindsay and I can handle the administrative stuff for a couple of weeks. We’re asking Ashley and Grant to teach some extra classes while you’re gone.” Ashley and Grant were two part-time instructors who filled in for us on occasion. “And there’s nothing more we need to do for the goats-in-the-park event. Everything’s been planned.”
She said that last part with a teasing glimmer in her eye, knowing how annoyed I was that we were going through with that event at all.
I was going to miss my friends so much while I was away.
“I don’t know how you go at the pace you go without a break,” Lindsay said. “You’ll burn out, if you haven’t started burning out already.”
“Okay,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll go. But if something comes up and you need me to come back—”
I was just about to insist they text me when the front door to the studio swung open.
In strode Peter, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He was freshly showered, his dark hair still damp and slightly disheveled. He seemed to have fed recently, too. His eyes were bright, and when I breathed in, there was no hint of the potent pheromone cocktail intrinsic to hungry vampires.
“I know you’d planned to pick me up,” he said. “This seemed a more efficient use of time.”
I didn’t have to look to know Becky’s and Lindsay’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. It now occurred to me—too late—that in all the conversations I’d had with them about this trip, I’d never told them that I wouldn’t be taking it alone.
Deep down, I must have been hoping they’d never find out.
Oops?
“Peter! Hi,” I said. Or squeaked. Gods, this was so incredibly awkward. I reached up reflexively to tuck my hair behind an ear, only to remember a moment later that it was tied back into a ponytail. I let my hand fall to my side, feeling foolish.
He inclined his head towards the door. “Shall we?”
“In a minute,” I said. I couldfeelmy friends staring at me. There was no way they’d let me leave before I did some seriousexplaining. I tossed Peter my car keys, and he easily caught them in midair. “Mine’s the red convertible at the back of the building.”
He nodded, then walked out of the studio without another word.
My friends jumped on me like vultures on carrion.
“You didn’t tell us you were going on vacation withPeter,” Lindsay stage-whispered.
“Zelda,” Becky said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “What is goingon?”
I bit my lip. “It’s…not what it looks like,” I said, cringing at how lame that sounded.
Lindsay folded her arms tightly across her chest. “What is it, then?”
Think, Zelda. Think!“He’s…a friend of a friend,” I said lamely, in an echo of what I’d told them weeks ago. “Oh! And…and we’re driving out to visit that friend. Together.” Not a half bad lie for something I literally made up on the spot. And if we visited Reginald on this road trip, that wouldn’t even be entirely a lie. Reggie knew both of us, and he lived in Chicago—which, if memory served, was only a few hours northwest of Blossomtown.
Becky and Lindsay exchanged a look.
“I don’t know how I feel about you going off for a couple of weeks with a man you’re telling us you don’t even know,” Lindsay said. “Like, he’s really hot and all, which is why we were thrilled for you when you hooked up with him that one time—”
“I didnothook up with him,” I insisted.
“But going on a road trip with a hot, awkward stranger?” Lindsay continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “It’s giving Netflix true crime documentary, to be honest.”
“I don’t like it,” Becky agreed. “You’re usually so careful and reasoned before you make decisions, Zelda. This isn’t you at all.”
