“Sounds about right.” I make a right-hand turn onto the main road, and it immediately winds me out of town.
“His collar issocute! You’re lucky it wouldn’t fit on Pebbles or I would have stolen it.” Pebbles is her Great Dane, and possibly the laziest dog I've ever met. If Potato didn’t hate other animals, I bet they’d be two peas in a pod.
“You could try! It’d probably fit her. Potato has a big ol’ neck.”
“Wait, Potato has a neck? I couldn’t tell. He looks like one big ball of fluff.”
We’re both laughing, which helps pull me from my sadness a little, but I’m still not really in the mood for chitchat, so I opt to end the call. “Hey, listen. I’m on my way home, but I wanted to check in. The roads are super icy, though, so I should probably hang up. Thanks again for feeding him this morning. Do you work this week? We can catch up then?”
“You made the schedule, Zee! I’ll see you tomorrow, and you know I’m always happy to help with Potato. Drive carefully!”
My finger hovers over the ‘End Call’ button on my dash screen as I tell her, “Thank you, see you then.” Ending the call, the Christmas music returns through my speakers with the lovely sound of the group, Pentatonix.
I’m obsessed with them, so I turn it up and start singing along.
The roads are clear, so the drive is relatively easy—hardly any other cars pass me—so imagine my surprise when, from my rearview mirror, I see a truck come barreling around a turn.
For the second time in twenty minutes, my heart sinks. Gripping the steering wheel like a granny, I keep my eyes firmly on the road while holding my breath, waiting for the inevitable moment where the driver crosses into the other lane and blows past me.
But it doesn’t happen.
Looking into my rearview mirror, I find the truck entirely too close for comfort.
Then I see the driver.
“Oh, hell!” What’s Miller doing?
Speeding up, I put some distance between our vehicles, but he quickly closes it.
This freaking guy.
He signals for me to pull over, but I ignore him and return my attention to the road, driving another couple of miles before looking into my mirror again.
When I do, he gives me the same signal.
Up ahead, I see a turn out, so I let off the gas and activate my turn signal before guiding my car off the road.
Unsurprisingly, Miller does the same.
Turning my car off, I yank the keys from the ignition and toss open my door. As I step out of the vehicle, Miller gets out of his and starts toward me.
“What are you doing?” My voice is shaking, but I’m not scared. I’m annoyed.
It’s freaking cold out here, and I shiver, having shrugged out of my jacket when I cranked the heater before leaving the Stokes’.
Miller doesn’t look cold, though. His black and red flannel looks warm and cozy, and he seems unphased as he smirks. “Following you home.”
“What? Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m not going to let you spend Christmas alone, Elizabeth.”
“How do you know I’m spending it alone?” My breath catches.
“Are you?”
Kicking a lump of snow, I look down at the ground. “Yes.”
Miller takes a couple of steps closer to me. “Well, you’re not anymore.”
