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I groan and press my back into the seat with a sigh.
He also distracts me beyond reason, whether he’s here in person or not.
I then imagine him beside me, and my hand redirects to the passenger seat and lingers there. There is still so much to say. Some of which I would want to say to his face.
But I don’t know…
I don’t think we’re ready for that.
Then when?my thoughts retort.
Will we ever be ready? Or, like some things, it’s best to rip it off like a Band-Aid?
When Alan is done singing, Randy Travis comes back on, and I go still. Hold my breath.
It’s as if the universe is trying to tell me something.
Get over yourself. You’re in a better place now.
Go talk to him.
Or maybe I’m just looking for an excuse.
Another exit blows by and my muscles ease. I turn Randy up.
Try to not think about the fact I’m wearing running shorts and an oversized tee with no makeup.
Ready or not, Jake. Here I come.
