Page 41 of Love in the Stacks
But Nicole smiles. “Not bad at all,” she says. “Your voice was a little shaky, but you didn’t fidget, and you looked up enough. How did you feel?”
“Drained,” I answer. “But I can see how this practice run will make it easier to present at the conference. I have a better idea of what to expect now. Thank you.”
Nicole grins. “Don’t thank me. It was all self-serving. This is my presentation, too, and I can’t have someone puking in the middle of it.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Maybe I won’t eat that day, just in case.”
Chapter nineteen
Nicole
Road trip time!
Adam meets me at my apartment early on Thursday morning. It’s supposed to take about nine hours to drive to New Orleans from here and I’m hoping to get checked into my hotel room and freshen up before the conference welcome reception tonight. Adam texts that he’s outside, and I peek out my window to see his white sedan. I navigate my roller suitcase and computer bag out the door onto the landing at the top of the stairs. As I fumble for my keys, Adam jogs up the stairs behind me and takes my suitcase.
“Thanks.” I smile at him as I finish locking up.
His gaze travels from my face down to my body and then back up again, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m dressed comfortably for the long car ride: yoga pants swirled with black, purple, and white color splotches, and a purple T-shirt.
I trail down the stairs behind Adam, and as he loads my suitcase in the trunk of the car, I take the opportunity to assess him. It’s the first time I’ve seen him not in work clothes, I realize. Even though we’ve hung out after work a couple of times, he wore the same clothes he’d had on all day at the library. Honestly, I figured Adam’s casual outfits would be pretty similar to his work attire—solid-colored chinos and polo shirts. But Adam stands in front of me this morning in cargo shorts and a graphic T-shirt, cheap flip-flops on his feet. I’ve only ever seen him in pants, and I look away quickly when I notice his calf muscles flexing as he moves the bags around in the trunk.
Huh. Impressive definition. Didn’t expect that.
The black graphic T-shirt he’s wearing is a reference to something, but I don’t understand it. There are honeycomb type shapes all connected to each other, a dotted line connecting circles within two of the hexagons. Underneath, it says “...Just one more turn.”
Slamming the trunk, Adam smiles at me and says, “Do you have everything?”
“Oh! I think so,” I answer.
Instead of standing here ogling Adam, I should be getting in the car. I open the passenger side door and settle into my seat, setting my bag at my feet and moving my water bottle from my bag to one of the cup holders in the center console. The driver side door opens, and Adam climbs in. Resting his hands against the steering wheel, he turns his head to meet my eyes.
“Road trip rules,” he says. “Passenger is in charge of music.”
I match his grin and say, “Perfect, because it just so happens that I created a couple of playlists especially for this trip. Do you mind if I connect to your Bluetooth?”
“Go for it,” he answers as he starts the car.
I pull out my phone and connect it to the car’s stereo system. I scroll until I find the first playlist: eighties pop classics. Adam groans as Madonna’s “Material Girl” starts blasting through the speakers.
“Maybe you can take a turn driving later and I’ll take over the music,” he offers. “Is this the kind of music you typically listen to?”
“No,” I laugh. “But it seems appropriate for a road trip. Peppy. Nostalgic. Easy to sing along.”
“Nostalgic?” he asks. “How old were you in 1984?”
“Um, negative fifteen…”
“That’s what I thought.”
“But that’s beside the point. It can still be nostalgic. I listened to songs like these on the oldies station in my dad’s car as a kid.”
“Fair point.” He laughs.
We’re quiet for a while, listening to the playlist. I need a few more miles and a bunch more sugar in me to start singing.
Finally, Adam looks at me and says, “I’ve gotta ask. What’s the story with the shirt?”
“My shirt?” I look down at it and laugh.
