over and over.”
“Well when you put it like that.” He has a point, but I need him to keep talking.
“Here, plug this in. The cord is in the glove compartment.” He slides his phone out of his shirt pocket, handing it to me.
After connecting it to the cigarette lighter, I open his iTunes app. “What do you want to listen to?” He has over one thousand songs. Shit.
“It’s time to provide you with a little musical education. Hit shuffle.” With his hair pulled back, his eyes really stand out against the strong line of his jaw. He’s clean-shaven today with not a trace of stubble on his face. His mouth would glide across my body, no chafing required. I hate that the last time Jason and I made out on the couch he hadn’t shaved for three days. It felt like I was rubbing up against a porcupine. But Adam’s a ladies’ man. He knows what women want.
Scrolling through the options, I press my thumb against the screen as a folk rock tune pours through the speakers. He certainly has an eclectic taste. There’s not one song in any of my playlists that employs a banjo. But I’m open-minded. I’ll give it a chance. Drumming his fingers against the dash, he hums along. This must be one of his favorites. And by the second chorus, I’m starting to get into it.
“No one will ever believe I’m listening to something like this. I’ll have to update my Facebook status and let the world know.” I’m thankful for the shade as we turn down a tree-lined lane. A caravan of trailers and campers drive by in the opposite direction, leaving the park as Memorial Day draws to a close.
“I can’t stand Facebook. I’m not even on it any more.” Adam’s brow creases as if I struck a nerve.
“Yeah, I noticed. I went to friend you, but you were nowhere to be found. You’re like the only person on the planet who’s not on there.” Great, now he thinks I’m stalking him online. Why can’t I think before I speak? Really, it’s not that hard. And then I go and insult him on top of it.
“I just got tired of running into my past every time I went on. So I decided to make a clean break. I make an effort to stay in touch with the people who matter to me either by text or email. But as for the rest of that garbage, I could care less.” He wants to sound like he’s above it all, but something’s needling him.
“What, did someone burn you on there or something?” I close my eyes when he guns the engine, increasing our speed. I should really keep my big mouth shut.
“You could say that.” His glare is intense.
“The ex who liked to braid your hair?” Putting two and two together, I hazard a guess.
He nods but doesn’t say any more. I’m on dangerous ground. It’s best to retreat. I’ve seen him overreact before, and it’s not fun.
“I don’t see anyone waving us over, do you?” Adam slows the ambulance to a crawl as we search the rows of picnic tables. No one looks like they’re expecting us.
“Dispatch said the north entrance, and that’s where we are. Maybe try the campground?” Kids fresh out of the swimming pool are draped in beach towels. Many of the adults shoot the breeze while sitting under folding umbrellas. Everyone is kicking back, indulging in the last hours of the holiday weekend.
Adam guides the ambulance over a set of speed bumps as we reach the ranger’s station. Leaning out the window, Adam attempts to locate our patient. “We got a call about a child with an animal bite. Do you know anything about that?”
The park ranger whistles, shaking his head. “No. I can’t say that I do. But you’re welcome to have a look around.”
He raises the gate and Adam sails through. Following the wide path leading to a section of cabins, we pass one after the other. I’m starting to think this was a prank call when we get to the bottom of the hill. Reclining in front of the last cabin on the property is a ragtag assortment of barking dogs, muddy kids, and barefoot adults. All of the children
“Well when you put it like that.” He has a point, but I need him to keep talking.
“Here, plug this in. The cord is in the glove compartment.” He slides his phone out of his shirt pocket, handing it to me.
After connecting it to the cigarette lighter, I open his iTunes app. “What do you want to listen to?” He has over one thousand songs. Shit.
“It’s time to provide you with a little musical education. Hit shuffle.” With his hair pulled back, his eyes really stand out against the strong line of his jaw. He’s clean-shaven today with not a trace of stubble on his face. His mouth would glide across my body, no chafing required. I hate that the last time Jason and I made out on the couch he hadn’t shaved for three days. It felt like I was rubbing up against a porcupine. But Adam’s a ladies’ man. He knows what women want.
Scrolling through the options, I press my thumb against the screen as a folk rock tune pours through the speakers. He certainly has an eclectic taste. There’s not one song in any of my playlists that employs a banjo. But I’m open-minded. I’ll give it a chance. Drumming his fingers against the dash, he hums along. This must be one of his favorites. And by the second chorus, I’m starting to get into it.
“No one will ever believe I’m listening to something like this. I’ll have to update my Facebook status and let the world know.” I’m thankful for the shade as we turn down a tree-lined lane. A caravan of trailers and campers drive by in the opposite direction, leaving the park as Memorial Day draws to a close.
“I can’t stand Facebook. I’m not even on it any more.” Adam’s brow creases as if I struck a nerve.
“Yeah, I noticed. I went to friend you, but you were nowhere to be found. You’re like the only person on the planet who’s not on there.” Great, now he thinks I’m stalking him online. Why can’t I think before I speak? Really, it’s not that hard. And then I go and insult him on top of it.
“I just got tired of running into my past every time I went on. So I decided to make a clean break. I make an effort to stay in touch with the people who matter to me either by text or email. But as for the rest of that garbage, I could care less.” He wants to sound like he’s above it all, but something’s needling him.
“What, did someone burn you on there or something?” I close my eyes when he guns the engine, increasing our speed. I should really keep my big mouth shut.
“You could say that.” His glare is intense.
“The ex who liked to braid your hair?” Putting two and two together, I hazard a guess.
He nods but doesn’t say any more. I’m on dangerous ground. It’s best to retreat. I’ve seen him overreact before, and it’s not fun.
“I don’t see anyone waving us over, do you?” Adam slows the ambulance to a crawl as we search the rows of picnic tables. No one looks like they’re expecting us.
“Dispatch said the north entrance, and that’s where we are. Maybe try the campground?” Kids fresh out of the swimming pool are draped in beach towels. Many of the adults shoot the breeze while sitting under folding umbrellas. Everyone is kicking back, indulging in the last hours of the holiday weekend.
Adam guides the ambulance over a set of speed bumps as we reach the ranger’s station. Leaning out the window, Adam attempts to locate our patient. “We got a call about a child with an animal bite. Do you know anything about that?”
The park ranger whistles, shaking his head. “No. I can’t say that I do. But you’re welcome to have a look around.”
He raises the gate and Adam sails through. Following the wide path leading to a section of cabins, we pass one after the other. I’m starting to think this was a prank call when we get to the bottom of the hill. Reclining in front of the last cabin on the property is a ragtag assortment of barking dogs, muddy kids, and barefoot adults. All of the children
Similar Books
