Page 43 of Strung Along
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel at the sound of her voice. Her very female voice. If I was unsure that she might have actually been a man this whole time, I’m not anymore.
I clear my throat and say, “Hey.”
She blows out a breath, and I do the same.
“You sound young,” she notes.
“Disappointed I’m not old and creepy?”
“You could still be creepy.”
“Fair enough.”
The road back to town from the ranch is gravel. It’s a bit hard to drive on with the amount of snow we’ve been getting, so I try and keep my mind focused on the road and not the soft voice in my speakers.
It’s a difficult task, especially when she says, “I was expecting you to sound more hillbilly, to be honest.”
“Hillbilly?” I roll my lips before the tug up into a grin. “Sorry to disappoint ya, darlin’.”
Her laugh is too fucking sweet. And almost . . . familiar. The slight increase in pitch at the end tugs at my brain. I want to chastise myself for not remembering where I last heard it.
“Now, that’s more like it,” she says.
I notice how close I am to turning into town and slow my speed slightly. Checking my rear-view mirror, I confirm there’s nobody behind me to complain about it.
“Wanna tell me why you wanted to talk right now?” I ask, unable to help myself.
“It’s one of those days. I’ve been a bit cranky and figured that talking to you might help.”
My chest tightens. “That was a bit of a risk. What if I’d been someone you weren’t expecting and I made your day worse?”
“It was worth it,” she states confidently.
“I agree.”
I turn into town and get hit with a mix of feelings. I’m . . . excited to see Anna. To see her smile and listen to whatever she wants to talk about. But at the same time, I want to continue this phone call. Is that messed up? Fuck, I can’t even tell anymore.
“I have to go soon, but thank you for calling. Even if it was only for a couple minutes. You always help when I’m feeling down,” she admits.
I swallow. “You can call me whenever you want. You’re in Canada, right?” Close to me too. “There was no long-distance warnin’ when I called.”
“I am. So are you, then. I figured with the area codes, but wow. I want to ask where in Canada you are, but I don’t want to sound creepy.”
“Creepy is supposed to be my thing.”
“You should ask, then.” It’s a dare, and I haven’t backed down from a dare since high school.
“Alberta.”
Her sharp inhale is all I need to know, but she still replies, “Alberta for me too. Now anyway.”
“Now?”
“I’m originally from Vancouver.”
The truck jerks when I accidentally press hard on the brake. My tires lock up on the icy road, and I bark a curse while releasing the brake and finally gaining control of the truck again. My pulse thumps in my throat as I carefully pull onto Main Street.
It’s just an eery coincidence. Don’t think too much into it.