Secretly Loving the Hybrid

Alex Huffman’s POV

The alarm blared at 4:30 A.M., echoing through Alex Huffman’s small apartment in Summit Ridge, Nevada. He groaned, rolling over to slap the snooze button, but the relentless beeping continued.

“Ugh, not today,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from the weekend’s drinks. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, wishing he could rewind to Saturday night.

Dragging himself out of bed, Alex shuffled toward the bathroom, his eyes barely open. He reached for the door, misjudged the distance, and smacked his shoulder into the frame.

“Damn!” he hissed, rubbing the spot. “Great start, Alex. Real smooth.”

He managed to get the shower running, but the water was icy cold. He jumped back, cursing under his breath, then fiddled with the faucet until steam finally began to rise. As the warmth seeped into his skin, his mind wandered to the one thing that could salvage this miserable Monday:

‘I get to see her today.’

Mia Sawyer. Just thinking her name made his chest tighten. She was the kind of woman who made the whole room brighter at Silver Valley Plastics, the town’s largest employer. Mia was the unofficial lead on the production line—smart, quick to learn, and able to master every part of the job, even when new challenges popped up. She didn’t have the title, but everyone respected her for her skill and willingness to help.

Alex hurried through his routine, barely glancing in the mirror as he combed his hair. He threw on his favorite shirt—maybe she’d notice—and grabbed his keys, heart pounding with anticipation.

The drive to work was a blur. Summit Ridge was quiet at dawn, the streets empty except for a few early risers. He crossed the Clearwater River, its surface reflecting the pale morning sky, and pulled into the parking lot at Silver Valley Plastics. He was replaying every conversation he’d ever had with Mia, wondering if today might be the day she’d smile at him just a little longer.

Suddenly, a siren wailed behind him. Red and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror.

“Damn!” he groaned, pulling over to the shoulder.

A police officer approached, expression unreadable.

“License and registration, please.”

Alex fumbled in the glovebox, hands shaking. “Sorry, officer. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Do you know how fast you were going?”

“Uh… no, sir.”

“Ninety-seven. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”