Driving Me Mad (4 page)

“How did you choose this as
your career anyway?”

“I chose it by accident while
being stubborn,” I laugh. “I was in college, lost and not doing so
well up here,” I tap my temple, “and I didn’t want to get help. I
didn’t want anyone to know what I was going through. I figured if I
could learn everything a professional knew, then I could help
myself. I really enjoyed the classes. I couldn’t help myself, as it
turned out, but I could help others.”

Brittany laughs. “So because
you didn’t want to accept help, you got a degree that allows you to
be the very person you didn’t want help from? That’s funny.” She
chuckles for a moment longer before asking, “Was it hard to leave
and come here?”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t
leaving anything behind.” And I wasn’t. My family lives in Texas,
so I was only leaving an ex-wife. This move was just what I needed,
even if it’s been hard as hell so far. Brittany lifts her hand to
her mouth to cover a yawn. “Am I boring you?” I laugh.

She giggles and shakes her
head. “No. It’s been a long day, though. Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want
to talk about your long day?”

“Not really.” She gives me a
sad smile, and I nod.

Our plates are empty, so I
guess our night is over
.
But I don’t want her to leave
yet.

“Do you want me to help clean
up?” Brittany offers.

“Sure.” Any reason to keep
her with me longer. We work together to put dirty dishes in the
dishwasher, put away leftovers, and wash the few things that don’t
go in the dishwasher. “How much sleep are you getting?” I ask.

“Depends. Sometimes, I barely
sleep two hours. Other times, I do sleep, but it’s so restless I
might as well have been awake all night. What about you?”

Ah, right. Two-way street.
“Two to three hours at the most.” We’re standing in my kitchen once
we’ve finished. “Are you ready to head back?” I reluctantly force
myself to ask.

“Not really. It’s nice and
peaceful here. I think that’s what I hate the most about college. I
don’t feel like I ever get any quiet time.”

“That’s all I ever have,” I
laugh. And it’s not always a good thing. “Let’s watch TV.” I take
her hand and lead her into the living room. I hand her the remote
after turning the TV on. I don’t care what we watch, so she can
have control over it.

She sits down next to me,
tucking her legs to the side. She hesitates before leaning against
me and resting her head on my shoulder. “I’ve really missed you,
Trace,” she whispers. “I think I rely on you more than I
thought.”

“So, you’re not upset that I
moved here and then waited so long to tell you?”

She sits upright to look at
me. “Are you kidding? No! I’m really happy you’re here. I honestly
never expected to see you again. I figured a phone call here and
there with some texting was all. Not that I was unhappy with that
or anything. It just would’ve been nice to see you, so I’m happy I
can now.” Absentmindedly, she reaches for her wrist and simply
grips it tightly. “You know,” she continues, “I thought it might be
weird.”

“But it’s not?”

“No,” she says with a shake
of her head. “It’s not weird to be with you.” Brittany glances to
the TV where whatever show she picked is playing. She releases a
little sigh. “It’s so peaceful here.”

To me, it’s too peaceful. Too
quiet and serene. One would think that would be good, but for me,
it’s not. Not when I’m struggling. It makes it easier to wallow and
get sucked into the hell I experience. However, I’m glad Brittany
enjoys it. She rests her head on my shoulder again. It’s odd to be
so comfortable around one another so far, and not just because she
has issues with anxiety. All those texts and phone calls seems to
have made it seamless for us now that we’re here in person.

After about an hour and
countless yawns later, Brittany sits upright. “My body wants to
crash and I really want to let it. You should probably take me back
before I fall asleep.”

I nod, stand, and take her
hand to lead the way. For one crazy moment, I think about asking
her to stay. My gut reaction is to claim it’s for her sake since
she finds my place so relaxing, but I know it has more to do with
not wanting to return to this house without her tonight. It’s
making me anxious because I can already feel the claws of my
depression tightening around my throat.

I’m supposed to be the calm,
in control person. Well, as much as I can be with depression
resting on my shoulders. Even then, I can usually gather some
resolve to keep my wits about me. Britt though, she undoes me.

That’s one hell of a scary
realization.

***

T
race is quiet as
we drive back to campus. The closer we get, the higher my anxiety
rises. The sleepiness I felt at his house has left me. Trace parks
his car outside of my dorm.

“You okay?”

I turn to face him and nod.
“Thanks for inviting me over.”
And letting me get cozy with you
on your couch,
I silently add. With everything going on, it’s
somewhat surprising that sitting in such a way with him actually
felt normal, which is odd because it shouldn’t.

“Any time.”

Not expecting anything else
to come of this, I smile and angle toward the door as I tug on the
handle.

“Britt.”

My eyes squeeze closed for a
moment, relishing the sound of his voice. How can only half of my
name send a shiver through me? I pop my eyes open and glance at him
over my shoulder. Trace leans across the console. Holy mother of
pearl, is he about to kiss me? My heart kicks into high gear as he
cups my cheeks, causing me to turn back toward him. I watch him
assessing me as inches are lost between us and then, his gaze drops
to my mouth before his lips land softly on mine. My mouth is slack
against his, the surprise too much for me as I stare at his closed
eyelids.

Trace is
kissing
me.

Trace
is kissing
me
.

My eyes close, spurring my
lips to move finally. This kiss is the opposite of us. It’s slow,
carefree, and so relaxed. Trace’s tongue doesn’t have time to skirt
over my lips before I open my mouth, so he can deepen the kiss.
This is better than I could’ve ever imagined. I might not have
expected anything to ever come from my relationship with Trace, but
that doesn’t mean I didn’t hope. It doesn’t mean I didn’t wonder
what it would be like to kiss him.

And now that I know, I don’t
want to ever lose it.

Just when my hands are about
to lift and dive into his hair, Trace pulls away.

Before I can shut myself up,
I whisper, “For a long time, I’ve wondered what it would be like to
do that.”

He flashes me a soft grin.
“Me too. Go on and get some sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

No words come to mind, so I
nod, get out, and walk to my dorm room in a daze. Am I dreaming
already? Did he really kiss me? I swipe my tongue over my lower
lip. Yes, yes, he did.

“Just where have you been,
missy?” Rebecca asks, lowering her book as I enter the room.

I flop onto my bed. “I went
out with my former therapist.”

“What?” she shrieks, sitting
upright. “I thought he lived hours away? How the hell did you go on
a date with your therapist? Isn’t that like illegal, or unethical?
You need to give me all the details right now.”

Sighing, I roll onto my side
to face her. “Ever since I moved to college, we’ve sort of been
talking. It was only an email here and there at first, him checking
in on me, or me freaking out about something and needing sound
advice. Then, I got tired of emailing and gave him my number. We
started texting here and there, but a lot more often in combination
with phone calls this past year. He got a job opportunity here and
he took it.

“He was going to tell me
yesterday, but someone,” I glare at her, “dragged me to a club, so
I couldn’t talk to him. I found out when I unknowingly walked into
his new office today. We had lunch and then he invited me to
dinner, which ended up being at his house. Then he kissed me before
I got out of the car. You’re all caught up.” Two thoughts hit me
and I add, “Oh, and he’s my
former
therapist, and he won’t
get in trouble because he told the college of our ‘relationship’
during his interview.” I even do the air quotes around
relationship
.

Rebecca’s eyes nearly bug out
of her head. “
Relationship
? Wow. And he told them this
before you even knew he was coming?” I nod. “Girl, he has it bad
for you. At the very least, based on what you’ve said, you’re close
friends. However, he cares for you a
lot
if he told the
college about you, knowing they could’ve not hired him because of
it.”

I hadn’t thought about it
like that, and I say as much.

“Do you think your
relationship,” she does air quotes, “will become a relationship?”
she finishes as she wags her eyebrows.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I yawn
and stand to change my clothes, hoping Rebecca takes the hint that
I’m tired of talking. It’s been a long, stressful day, even if it
ended well.

The moment my head hits the
pillow it’s like a switch has been flipped and I’m wide awake. The
last thing I want right now is to have a restless night. For a
while, I keep my eyes closed, hoping that’ll help. It’s useless,
though. I can’t sleep. I wonder if Trace is awake too. Should I
text him? Part of me says yes because it’ll help me pass the time,
but part of me says no because he might be sleeping.

Screw it.

I grab my phone and decide to
call him.

“Hello?” he answers on the
second ring.

“Did I wake you?” I whisper,
so I don’t wake Rebecca.

“No. Everything okay?”

“I can’t sleep. Don’t you
want to talk to me until I get sleepy?”

His laugh is low and husky.
“You want me to bore you to sleep?”

“Well, that’s one way to put
it. Just talk to me, please.”

“Yeah, Britt, I can do that,”
he says softly. “Anything you want to know in particular?”

The darkness and the wee
hours give me confidence. “What happened with your ex-wife?”

Trace is quiet for a moment.
“She cheated.” I gasp, but he keeps talking. “She says it was
because our relationship moved too fast and she realized she didn’t
want what she had agreed to, which was a life with me. The cheating
was just the final straw. It took a while, but I got over it.”

“And you’re okay now?”

“I’m more than okay,” he
replies with surety. My body warms with his words. “I want to talk
to you about your issues for a second and then we can talk about
whatever you want.”

Well, crap. “Okay,” I
whisper.

“You should still see a
counselor.” My mouth opens to object, but he says, “Hear me out,
Brittany. You aren’t my client anymore. I’m here for you, of
course, but I’d feel better if you were seeing someone. You came
into my office today, needing to talk to a counselor. I think it’ll
be good for you to see someone. There may be things you don’t want
to tell me as,” he falters, struggling with what he wants to say.
“As who I am to you now. Think about it, okay? It’ll make me feel
better for you and for us.”

He makes a good point. I
do
need to see someone, even if I’m reluctant. It would be
unfair to unload completely on Trace and to expect him to not see
me as part-client, to have him not treat me as if he’s my
therapist.

“Okay,” I agree.

“That was too easy,” he
chuckles, and I laugh. “There’s one more thing, though.” He takes a
moment for that to sink in before he goes for the kill. “You should
ask the psychiatrist about something to help you sleep.”

“You should do that,
too.”

Trace laughs. “I will if you
will. A good night’s sleep will help you manage things better,
Brittany.”