Making Me Sane (Sanity Book 2) (14 page)

T
race and Ben should be here any minute and I’m in the middle of a panic attack. My heart is pounding so fast, I’m certain it’s the reason my chest hurts like a SOB. My hands are clammy. I’m sweating through my shirt. I can’t quite catch my breath and I’m starting to feel faint. Trace wants to go on a date after I almost slept with someone else. He wants to forgive me. He wants to work things out. He wants us to go on a date with Melissa and Ben.

What if I can’t get rid of the attack in time and we’re late? What if I have another one during the date and I make a bad impression with Ben? I don’t know how close they are and how important his opinion is to Trace. Why hasn’t Trace yelled at me yet? Where is his anger over what I did, what I almost did, what I would’ve done? I can’t do this!

I hear Melissa talking as well as two other voices. I escaped to my bathroom as soon as I felt the claws of anxiety digging in. Damn it! They’re here! It’s not over yet! I can’t walk out now! Two minutes pass. I know because I count to sixty twice, and I had trouble focusing enough to remember each number that followed the previous one. Footsteps come this way. They sound too heavy to be Melissa.

A light rap sounds on the door, high above my head since I’m sitting on the floor, leaning against the door.

“Britt?”

I’m both relieved and terrified that it’s Trace. Why? He’s seen me like this before. My mouth is too dry to reply. I scoot out of the way and unlock the door with a trembling hand. He pushes the door open. His gaze falls on me, his hand out and waiting for me to take it. I do and he pulls me up. Without any hesitation, he pulls me against his chest and holds me tight.

“This is going to be a fun, easy date,” he begins softly. “No pressure. No problems. No too much thinking. It’s just going to be us, two of our friends, and a bunch of heavy balls.”

That last bit is unexpected, making me laugh and look up at him. “What?”

“Ben’s best idea was bowling. It’s no surprise that he can’t find a date with lazy and uncreative ideas like that.” One corner of his mouth lifts before falling away. “Are you doing okay or do you need a few more minutes?”

“Are you sure you want to do this? You haven’t yelled at me or anything yet.” Maybe it’s my imagination, but his eyes harden and darken.

“We’ll get there, but not today.” As if realizing he didn’t answer my question, he adds, “I’m sure I want to do this.”

I take a deep, steadying breath, trying to prepare myself and calm my nerves. Before I can say I’m ready, we hear Ben yell, “Stop trying to fit in a quickie and let’s go!” I laugh, and just like that, the anxiety releases its hold enough for me to truly feel ready. Trace shakes his head at his friend.

“Let’s go,” I tell him.

He doesn’t double check that I’m ready; he takes my hand and starts leading the way. Melissa smiles at the sight of us. Trace stops in front of Ben.

“Ben, this is Brittany. Brittany, this is my idiot friend, Ben.”

Ben grins and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Are y’all ready?” Trace asks, moving things along.

Our friends nod and soon, we’re on our way. Trace drives and I sit up front with him. Melissa asks what we’re doing and Ben tells her. Should we set up our friends? What if things go bad? I mean, we’ll side with our respective friend, but what if it affects us somehow? There’s enough screwing up that we do on our own. We don’t need outside sources intervening.

Ben and Melissa are talking about their jobs, and I learn that Ben isn’t just Trace’s friend, but also his co-worker. I wonder how much Ben knows about me and my relationship with Trace. Maybe I’ve already made a bad impression. A squeeze of my knee has me looking over at Trace. He glances down at my hand squeezing my wrist, looks at the road, and then mouths
Relax
.

Right. Fun date with no problems, no pressures, and no thinking. I let go of my wrist, hoping that by not squeezing it, it’ll stop feeding the anxiety. Trace leaves his hand on my knee and I’m not sure if it’s helping or hindering my progress.

We arrive at the bowling alley and Trace sticks close while we wait for shoes and then a lane. While I put on my shoes, he and Ben go searching for balls for everyone.

“When can I marry him?” Melissa whispers from next to me.

I laugh. “Don’t you think that’s a bit soon to think about?”

“I’m just saying that I’m loving him so far. Have you seen his smile? I don’t think I’ve ever seen teeth so straight and white
and
surrounded by such perfect lips.” Melissa looks away and I follow her gaze to see the guys walking our way. Ben flashes that smile at her and I have to admit, it is a very nice smile.

My phone vibrates and I check it. It’s Rebecca. I hit ignore as Trace takes the seat Melissa vacated. He hands me a ball.

“That one feel okay?”

My fingers fit fine and it doesn’t feel too heavy either. “Yeah; thanks.” He takes it and places it on the ball return. The boys put on their shoes while Melissa enters our names into the system for our game. “So, do your bowling skills reflect your lack of athleticism as well?”

Trace laughs. “I’m actually decent. Not good, but not bad either. What about you?”

I shrug. “I haven’t bowled since I was a kid, so who knows.”

“Ben, you’re up first,” Melissa says.

Our order is Ben, Melissa, me, and then Trace. Ben shakes his hands, rolls his shoulders, and cracks his neck before picking up his ball. As it turns out, he’s quite good, earning a strike on his first bowl. I only knock down three on my first try and two on the second. Melissa and Ben have their heads close together between their turns and Melissa laughs often.

“They seem to be hitting it off,” Trace says when Ben insists on showing Melissa the “proper technique” when she rolls a gutter ball.

“Yeah, they do.”

“I kind of feel like we’re the third wheel.”

I laugh. “They are being neglectful of us.”

A whoop distracts us. With Ben’s help, Melissa was able to get a strike. After this, Ben does make a few efforts to talk to us, but Melissa will say something and it’s game over. I’m positive there will be another date after this one. It’s fun, though. Ben has a knack for cracking jokes and being sarcastic. Then, he’ll say something sultry and flirty and it draws Melissa in all over again.

“Hey,” Ben pokes his head between our seats when we’re on the way home. “We’re going to grab a bite to eat. Do you mind dropping us off with my car first?”

“Sure,” Trace answers.

That, I do believe, is a lie because we ate at the bowling alley between games. I can’t believe she’s going home with him already! But then, I don’t really know Melissa too much outside of the office yet. I decide to listen to Rebecca’s voicemail once Trace gets close to his house.

“Hey, was calling to see what was going on. I ran into Quinn and he said you kicked him out because Trace showed up. What the hell is going on? I can’t believe you would do that after I went through the trouble of making sure Quinn was there. Just call me, so we can catch up.”

I didn’t run into Quinn by chance? Why in the hell would she think I’d want him back? I hadn’t talked about him. I talked about Trace! And, what? She thought I was back with Quinn since I went home with him and since she found out I’m not, she wants to chide me and tell me I’m wrong for wanting to work things out with Trace? Our friendship has been steadily declining since she got back with Dustin after we graduated. Not to say he’s the cause, but I do feel like he changes her. We’re not good friends now. I don’t feel like I can count on her anymore. Not to mention that I have
never
told her what to do with her relationship with Dustin. I listened, I gave advice
if
she asked, and I was there for her no matter what.

“Let’s check on Lily,” Trace tells me as he pulls into his driveway.

“Okay.”

We get out of the car and Ben says, “We’ll see y’all later.”

“Are you sure about this?” I quietly ask Melissa.

She grins. “Yep. I’ll call you tomorrow with details.” She gives me a quick hug and then they’re getting into his car and leaving.

I follow Trace into his house. Lily’s tail is wagging miles a minute as she runs over to me.

“I knew she could get you to smile.” Trace’s statement causes me to look up at him, questioningly. “Your demeanor changed after you were on your phone. Want to talk about it?” he asks as Lily leaves me to walk through her doggie door in the back door and I stand upright.

“Maybe.”

“Come on.” We move into the living room and have a seat on the couch. “What is it?”

I’m not even sure we should talk about it because that means talking about what happened. Trace patiently waits. I take a deep breath. “Last week, Rebecca wanted to meet for drinks to catch up, which is where I ran into Quinn. She kind of helped push away my doubts about leaving with him, but she found out what actually happened and she wanted to call and bitch at me for it. She’s anti-Trace, even though she’s taken Dustin back every single time he left her. On top of all that, turns out, she told Quinn to show up that night. I don’t know where I’m going with this,” I finish, ready to stop talking about it.

Trace’s lips are in a firm line. “She does know drinking is bad for you, right?” I nod and he shakes his head. “So, she’s not very supportive is basically what’s bothering you?”

“I just...we don’t really connect anymore, and it pisses me off that she went behind my back to push me toward Quinn. I don’t want him. I mean, he wasn’t a bad boyfriend, but he wasn’t a good one for me.” My eyes stray over to his recliner. I wish I could sit in it and absorb its comfort, though I bet it’s not the same without Trace in it as well. Needing a break, I stand and say, “I’ll be right back.”

My intentions is to disappear into the bathroom for a second, but my feet lead me to the threshold of Trace’s bedroom. Instead of seeing his California King bed, his dresser, and his lonely nightstand, I see memories of our fights, of our bad days, of our good days, of the times we made love, of when he’s talked in order to bore me to sleep. I see our relationship come together and then fall apart. I see his time without me in how his sheets are rumpled only on one side of the bed. I’m reminded of our issues by the two pill bottles on his nightstand.

Tears form and glide down my cheeks. I wipe them away as I hear Trace’s footsteps, but I’m unable to face him.

“What’s wrong?” Trace asks from next to me.

“How can we get back to that?” I motion toward the bed as if all my memories are floating around for him to see. “To us. I’m still not sure that we can,” I confess.

He pulls my hand away from my wrist; I didn’t even realize I was squeezing it. “We can and we will. It’ll take time and will probably be hard, but well worth it.” His hand glides up my arm to my shoulders and he nudges, so I’ll face him. “I need to ask you a question.”

I swallow hard and do my best not to let those words send me into a panic attack. “What?”

I almost expect him to drop his hands to my hips and pull me against him, but he doesn’t. He rests his forehead against mine. Those hazel eyes staring into the deepest pit of my soul. He takes a deep breath.

“I hate what you almost did. I hate what I did to you. I hate that you hurt for so long and were struggling so much. I know you don’t trust me as much as you used to. However, I think we’re focusing on the past too much. My question is, do you think you can trust me enough for us to start over with a clean slate? We can talk anything and everything out tonight that you want, but then we close the door and move forward once and for all. Can we do that?”

He’s essentially asking for my full trust again. Right this very second. Should we talk about this now that I’m no longer seething with rage and yelling my responses? Is a clean slate even possible? This is Trace I’m talking about. He’s easily proven that he’ll do anything to make us work.

The question is, will I?