Best Audiobook Road Trip Novels & Stories

Before graduation, my boyfriend, Ethan Johnson and I planned a cross-country road trip. My roommate, Juliet Miller, kindly offered to organize our itinerary. On departure day, her luggage sat in the front seat. Her phone was connected to the car console. The only bed bore a tag ‘Juliet’s Spot.’ Ethan patted my head with a casual smile. “Juliet gets carsick in the back. Be good and sleep on the roof tent.” Driving through the desert that night, they left me at a gas station to guard our gear while they shot stargazing videos. I waited until dawn. Then Juliet posted a photo in our group chat. She wore my jacket in the passenger seat. Ethan’s arm rested behind her chair. My parents

“Dante. Quarterback. Also terrible at parallel parking, so we’re even on the clumsiness scale.” We exchanged insurance info right there in the middle of the lot, but the conversation didn’t end there. He asked what I was reading; I showed him the stack and rambled about Sylvia Plath for way too long, fully aware I was oversharing. Surprisingly, he listened, nodding like he actually cared, then mentioned how he sometimes listened to audiobooks during long drives between away games. The rain that had been threatening all day finally broke—fat drops splattering the asphalt and soaking us both.

I didn’t realize badass biker men did that kind of thing. Booker climbed in beside me and started the engine while I buckled up. He didn’t say anything as he guided the truck away from Arbor Lodge and I took a moment to take in his ride. It was new with all the bells and whistles, so to speak. Leather seats, wood inlay, and a kick-ass stereo system… at least it looked like a kick-ass stereo system. It was currently off. About ten minutes passed and I had about all the silence I could handle. “Your real name’s not Booker, is it?” He glanced at me and shook his head before focusing on the road again. “Are you going to tell me your real name?”

The hour long trip to Skye Manor passed in relative silence, the only conversation in the car was between Aiden and Vincent and mostly revolved around business, Elisa was uncharacteristically silent, staring out the window with a faraway expression. I leaned back against the headrest, nausea playing in my stomach from motion sickness and I spent the trip with my eyes closed, praying I wouldn't haul all over the pristine leather seats. To distract myself, I listened to an audiobook on my phone and nibbled on some saltine crackers, ignoring the look of disapproval on Aiden's face at eating in the car.

She was in so much haste that she had come without her car but instead had taken a cab. “Fuck them!” She cussed and went to the side of the road, searching for a cab to take her back. A car suddenly stopped in front. The car window rolled down, and the man inside said, “Do you want a ride, beautiful Liza?” “Who are you?” Elizabeth asked in confusion. "My name is Roland,"

I rooted through the bag and handed him his pop as I kept snooping through his snack collection. “Thank god I did. The tensest ride I’ve ever been a part of.” I pulled out his bag of Ali price and stole a piece with a grin. “Well, now you're in the fun v and not the humdrum v. Let’s do the road trip right.” He rolled the window down, Echo doing the same to his and he cranked the stereo, whooping and then singing along as he followed the conga line of cars down the road.

At the annual party, the organizer held a raffle box and let us draw lots one by one. Watching the company prosper made me incredibly proud. I casually unfolded the paper and couldn't believe my luck. I won the grand prize—a three-day trip to Marosa! I could either get reimbursed for the trip afterward or have 50 thousand dollars added to my paycheck. To support Vincent Cosby's startup, I hadn't even asked my family for a single cent all year. 50 thousand dollars was certainly no small sum to me.

"I'll find another way for Andy. But I can't take this job. I can't." Cassidy stormed over and grabbed my collar. The slap cracked across my face. The kindness she'd been pretending to have disappeared instantly. "We asked every rescue team. Every single one said you're the only person who can drive that road. And now you're telling me no? That's a life. A real life. If you stand there and do nothing, you're a murderer!" I laughed coldly. Then I grabbed her hair and slapped her back. Once. Twice. Again.

Three years after my release from prison, I ran into my ex-wife in the presidential suite of the most exclusive hotel in Bayshore. It had been years since I last saw her. She was draped in a silk robe, radiating wealth. When she recognized me, something unreadable passed through Cecily Monroe's eyes. "On the day you got out, why didn't you wait for me to come pick you up?" I said nothing and handed over the takeout. Her gaze dropped to the scar on my wrist, and her breath caught. "I went too far with that. But you've always been tougher than Adrian. You can always get back on your feet." She was talking about what happened six years ago, when Adrian Burke was involved in a catastrophic