Driving Me Mad (16 page)

My phone rings as I grab a
cart.

“Can’t text me?” I ask
Brittany as a way of answering.

“Maybe I just wanted to hear
your voice.” She sounds good, so that’s a plus. “How was your
day?”

“Uneventful. Yours?”

“Way better than yesterday.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “So, Bec and I are about to go out to
eat, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with us.”

“I would, but I’m grocery
shopping.” Not to mention, it’s one thing to be dating Brittany
since the college is aware of it. It would be different for me to
hang out with her also-a-college-student friend.

“Oh, okay. Maybe another
time.”

“Enjoy your girl time, all
right?”

“Okay,” she says, and I’m
relieved that she doesn’t sound disappointed. “I’ll talk to you
later then.”

We say goodbye and hang up.
It seems I chose the perfect time to come; there aren’t a lot of
people here. My trip goes fairly well and I unload and put away the
groceries when I get home. I’ve been alone for a few years now. I
was alone for a period of time before I met my ex-wife, Faith. It’s
something I’m used to. Usually, it’s no big deal. I don’t mind it
and it’s simply something people deal with. However, it’s always
harder to manage myself when I’m alone with my thoughts.

I should have accepted
Brittany’s invitation. I really need to get some friends here, too.
An hour after I arrive home, I find myself staring at the TV
screen. My mind is blank. Annoyed for spacing out, I get up, hook
my phone up to play some music off a local radio app, and start
cleaning the house. If I’m going to zone out, then I might as well
be productive. I need to do my best to stay out of the sinkhole
that is my depression this week and next. What fun will a romantic
weekend with Brittany be if I’m not in a good mood? I’m crossing my
fingers that we’ll both be okay next weekend.

While I clean, I sing the
words to whatever song comes on. I’m mopping the kitchen floor when
I hear a giggle. I turn to see Brittany standing in my house. The
music must’ve covered up her entrance.

“Are you singing Justin
Bieber, Trace?” Her laughter runs free as she clutches her stomach
with one hand while trying to cover her smile with the other.

I shrug, smiling a little at
hearing her laugh. “I was just singing whatever plays.” Ignoring
her giggles, I continue to mop. She turns the music down, and I
ask, “What are you doing here?”

“I felt like you needed me.
My Trace-senses were tingling.”

We both laugh. “How was
dinner with Rebecca?” I ask, deciding not to shed any light on
whether her senses were correct.

“Good. I got to meet her
boyfriend, Dustin. He seems really nice and they’re adorable
together.”

Though there’s no
disappointment or annoyance in her tone that I basically bailed on
a double date, I still feel bad. I falter with mopping as I realize
it’s a very good thing I did bail. There’s a good possibility that
the Dustin she’s speaking of is the same Dustin who has visited my
office a few times this semester. What are the odds that there is
another Dustin at the university who is also dating someone named
Rebecca? How awkward would that be? To show up for dinner with her
best friend and to see someone who’s been in my office for
counseling?

“Sorry I missed it,” I say,
finishing up. I lean the mop against the wall and walk over to
her.

“It’s okay,” she replies. I
wrap my arms around her and kiss her temple. She tilts her head
back. “Does this mean I was right?”

“I’ve kinda gotten used to
having you here, so I was going a little stir crazy,” I admit.

“Then I’m glad I came.”
Brittany takes a big, deep breath. “So, I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“I assume your romantic date
will include a certain activity afterward.” She runs her hands up
my chest and snakes them around my neck. “Since you’ll be treating
me, I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping to pick some
things out.”

Shopping in and of itself
does not sound like fun. However, seeing Brittany in some lingerie
could definitely make up for it.

“You don’t want to surprise
me?”

She shakes her head. “It’ll
be easier to figure out the kind of things you like if you help
pick it out.”

I laugh. “I’m a man, Britt; I
like everything.”

“Fine. I’ll go by myself, and
you can be surprised.”
This
is what she decides to be
disappointed over? Not me using grocery shopping as an excuse to
miss out on dinner with her friend, but me not going shopping for
lingerie with her? Yeah, sure, that makes sense.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t go,”
I point out. Pulling away from her, I grab my phone and keys and
turn to see a large smile on her face. I don’t know why it’s so
important for me to go, but I’m not complaining since I’ll get to
see her in something sexy. “Let’s hit the road.”

Brittany tells me where she
wants to go, giving me a few directions since I’m still learning my
way around, and I drive us there. There are a few other women in
the store, and an employee greets us.
No, we don’t need any
help, lady.
I try to take in all the outfits. Seriously, any of
them would work. Or, she could simply be naked. That would
definitely work, too.

“Everything looks alike,” I
say.

She rolls her eyes at me.
“They aren’t alike. Here. Feel this.” She holds out a sheer red
one. It feels kind of coarse. “Now, this one.” She holds out a
black one, which is much softer. “One has push-up abilities, while
the other does not,” she adds. Brittany puts them back on the
rack.

“Okay, so they’re not all the
same. Maybe they only look that way because I’m not seeing it on
you.” I grin.

“Pick me out something to try
on.”

I start to pay more attention
to all my options and slowly begin pointing out a few things while
Brittany finds her size. Once she has about six options, she heads
toward the dressing room. The lady who greeted us at the door is
the one who unlocks the door to a stall for her. She eyes me
critically when I step in behind Brittany, but doesn’t say
anything.

I take a seat on the bench.
“I’m pretty sure that woman thinks I’m going to try to have sex
with you while we’re in here.”

“Shh,” she laughs. “She can
probably hear you, and I’m sure she doesn’t think that.” Brittany
begins to undress, and my eyes are glued to her body as more of it
is revealed to me. If she didn’t have my full attention before, she
does now. She’s showing way too much skin to be more focused on the
clothes than me. “See, you say you like everything, but you do have
a preference.”

Clearing my throat and
shifting in my seat, I ask, “I do?”

“Yep. You like a satin or
lace material. You barely paid attention to the ones that would
show a lot of skin. Everything you picked up leaves a lot to the
imagination, which means you prefer something hot, but not
completely revealing.” She’s slipped on the first item and turns
toward me with her hands on her hips. “Still like it?”

All I can do is nod. Her legs
and cleavage look to die for and it takes all my willpower not to
reach out and pull her into my lap. She’s right, too. I picked
something that leaves me picturing what’s beneath the fabric.
Brittany laughs at my lack of verbal response and begins to change
into the next one. This is freaking torture. I have to watch her
strip down and then dress in something sexy for six outfits?

By the fourth one, I’m
getting antsy. I’ve already fucked her twice in my head, picturing
exactly what I’m going to do to her once we get home. Sitting here
and doing nothing but watching is unbearable. I can’t help but
reach out, grab her wrist, and pull her to straddle my lap. I run
my fingers over the soft material. I’m completely captivated by
her.

Brittany giggles and shifts
her hips on my lap to tease me with what I can’t have...yet. “I was
beginning to think you were immune.”

“More like trying to control
myself.” I kiss her long and hard, dragging a moan out of her. It
doesn’t matter any more that we’re in a store because all I can
think about is her beautiful body in my lap. Her chest is already
heaving. Short pants leave her mouth as I begin trailing my lips
down to her neck.

She grabs my shoulders and
pushes me away with a grin on her face. “You’re going to have to
control yourself a little better, Trace,” she tells me as she
wiggles out of my lap.

I groan. “Why did you want me
to come?”

“To find out what you
actually like and to buy a few things.”

“Not to tease and torture
me?”

Brittany grins over her
shoulder. “That was just a bonus.”

“You’re evil. Forget about
the last two. Put your clothes on, grab the ones you want, and
let’s go home before I actually try to have sex with you in
here.”

She rolls her eyes, totally
not buying that I would try. She does do as I ask, though. I’m
practically bouncing on my toes as we check out and I drive us back
to my house. I start kissing her the moment we step foot in the
house.

“Are you staying here
tonight?” I ask between kisses, making her walk backward toward my
room and shedding her clothes along the way.

“I brought an overnight bag,
just in case.”

“You are seriously the best
girlfriend I’ve ever had,” I tell her as I lie us down on the
bed.

Brittany laughs, and the
sound turns me on more. “Why don’t you stop talking and get naked
already?” My clothes are coming off before she can finish the
sentence.

***

Trace:
Pack a bag.
You’re staying with me tonight.

Trace:
Meet me at
my house at 4:30.

Me:
Why?

Trace:
Date.

Those texts were sent this
morning and I’m still smiling as I pull into Trace’s driveway. I’m
excited to see what we’re doing today, even more excited because I
feel
good
today. I almost feel like myself again. Moments
like these need to be cherished and enjoyed because that’s just the
thing. They are moments. Fleeting. Brief. A section of time that
turns into a memory before anyone’s ready for it.

Trace is walking out of the
house and waving for me to get out of my car already.

“What’s the rush?” I ask as
he opens the passenger door of his car for me.

“Time crunch.” He closes it
and walks around.

“Where are we going?” I ask
as he shifts into reverse.

“To a hockey game.”

“
Hockey
? Why are we
doing that? We have a hockey team?”

Trace laughs. “What kind of
North Carolinian are you, Britt? At the very least, everyone knows
about the pro teams. You mean to tell me you’ve never even heard of
the Carolina Rebels?”

I stare at him, even though
he’s focused on driving. “No, I haven’t. That would require paying
attention to sports even a little bit, Trace. I don’t even watch
the news! The closest I get to that is you with your
Dateline
.” He laughs and I repeat my question. “Why a hockey
game? Do you know anything about hockey?”

“Not really. A coworker had
two tickets and he couldn’t go, so he asked if anyone wanted them.
I figured it would be a good way to get away for a little bit.
That’s why we’re leaving so early. We have to drive to Raleigh, and
who knows what traffic will look like.”

A laugh bubbles out of me.
“So, we’re going to watch a sport we know nothing about?”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay.” Why not, right? It’ll
be cool to at least say I’ve done it.

Trace reaches over and takes
my hand in his, resting them both on the console between us. We
don’t say much. Trace has his country music playing on the radio.
Every now and then, he squeezes my hand and shoots me a smile. We
make it to the arena in good time. Crowds don’t usually bother me,
not really. I just don’t want to feel like a sardine. I need space
to breathe and move my elbows.