Driving Me Mad (Sanity Book 1)

by Lindsay Paige

  He leans over to kiss me. “It’ll be the best weekend, promise.”

  I believe him, too. Maybe I worry about us, about myself, about school, about my family, and a million other things. I worry about Trace some, too. I can’t help it. However, I have the utmost faith and trust in Trace. I believe what he says, believe he will follow through, and believe he’ll take care of me. It’s in this moment that my worries about us lasting fade away. With a guy like Trace being as fantastic a boyfriend as he is, how can we ever fail?

  Brittany slowly came off her old medication before starting the new one. She hasn’t been on it long at all, only two days, but so far, she hasn’t had any negative side effects. It gets me so excited because we could potentially have a problem-free weekend for our romantic time away from home. I think my increase in meds has helped me too. Our week has been calm and blissful. I’m on my way home from work to pick Brittany up and head to a cabin in the mountains. It’s an obvious yet perfect place to go during the winter.

  I laugh when I pull into the driveway. Brittany is sitting on the porch with her luggage and a tote next to her. Crazy girl. I gave her a key earlier this week so she’d be able to get in.

  “Aren’t you cold?” I ask once I get out.

  “I’m excited about our trip,” she answers, standing up. She lifts on her tiptoes to press her freezing cold lips to my mouth. “Ready?”

  “Yep.” She keeps hold of her tote and purse, but I take her luggage from her and lead her to the car. I put my things in the car this morning.

  “How long will it take us to get there?”

  “A few hours.”

  “Then, I’m going to work on homework.” She pulls out a textbook and a book light. So that’s what was in the tote.

  “Why haven’t you done it already?”

  She cuts me a glare. “One of my classes is online, and the instructor just posted our assignments today. If I can get a chapter read and do my work Sunday or Monday, then why not? It’s not like we’re doing anything right now.” Brittany slips off her shoes and props her feet on my dash.

  “As long as the tote stays in the car once we get there. This is a homework-free weekend.”

  “What if we have free time?”

  “It’s a romantic weekend, remember? That means no free time and no homework because we’re going to be busy doing romantic things.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Trace,” she laughs. “I’ll leave it in the car.” She would take it inside and try to work on it if I let her, though.

  “Is the radio going to bother you?”

  She reaches out and turns it down a little to where it’s low background music. “That okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  The drive is boring. Brittany finishes her reading just as I pull into a grocery store only a few miles from our final stop.

  “Where are we?”

  “Bryson City. We’ll need some food, and then we can go to the cabin.”

  The smile Brittany gives me is worth everything. She has genuine smiles that she gives me, but this is a mega-watt, happy to the nth degree kind of smile. And I’m the one who put it there! I lean over and give her a quick kiss before we get out of the car.

  “Do we need a cart?” she asks.

  “A basket should work.”

  She grabs a basket and we head to the meat department to pick out a few things. Next are a few simple sides. Finally, I lead her through the store to the marshmallows. She surprises me by not asking any questions as I grab a bag, then a jar of peanut butter, and lastly, a box of Ritz crackers. I brought cases of Sun Drop, just so I wouldn’t have to worry about drinks, so we’re done shopping now. Which is good because we were on the verge of needing a cart.

  “Question,” Brittany says as we check out. I glance to her. “Why did I bring my bikini if we’re spending the weekend at a cabin in the mountains?”

  “There’s a hot tub.”

  Her response is a simple smile and a nod. Once I’ve paid for everything, we leave the store and finish the drive to the cabin. The gravel driveway is a little long, leading to a secluded one-story cabin. Brittany grabs most of the groceries while I get our luggage. The key was left under a flower pot since we would be arriving late.

  “This place is so cozy!” Brittany says as she begins unloading the groceries.

  “Glad you like it.” I kiss her temple. “I’m going to grab the drinks.”

  When I come back in, Brittany has already popped a pizza in the oven. Tonight’s meal is simple and easy because of how late it is. Brittany begins looking around, peeking into the rooms, and checking out the back porch, which overlooks the mountains.

  “How’d you find this place?” she asks, coming back into the kitchen to wrap her arms around my waist.

  “My old boss owns it and I called him. He owed me a favor.”

  “Why?”

  “His wife would come by a few times a week to eat lunch with him. One time, she was talking to all of us about her birthday and dropping hints about what she wanted. He wasn’t paying attention at all, so I had to tell him what she wanted. It was a big birthday for her, so he owed me.”

  Brittany smiles. “Look at you. Always coming in to save the day.” She lifts up to kiss me. “Do we have plans this weekend?”

  I shrug. “No plans, but the options are be lazy, explore, or stay in bed,” I finish with a grin.

  She rolls her eyes and steps away from me to check on the pizza. “I’m going with alternating between exploring and being lazy.”

  “We can do that.”

  “For tonight, how about we eat this pizza, and then be lazy?”

  “Sounds good to me.” So that’s what we do.

  “We’re dumb,” Brittany laughs.

  “Why is that?” I reach across the hot tub to bring her over to straddle me.

  “Because this hot tub is outside, it’s winter, and we’re in it.” She sinks as far as she can under the water, getting up to her shoulders covered. “It’s going to be so freaking cold when we get out. It’ll be like a weather whiplash.”

  “The door is five steps away,” I remind her as I let my hands glide up and down her thighs.

  “Yeah, five steps away and we have to be careful when we get out so we don’t slip. That’s a good ten seconds that we’re going to freeze our asses off.”

  “It’ll be worth it.” It already is if you ask me, because I got to see her in a bikini in winter.

  “I don’t know how you’re doing it.” She runs her wet hands over the upper half of my body.

  I move to the middle of the hot tub where there isn’t a ledge to sit on and sink until my shoulders are covered. “Happy?”

  She grins. “Yes.” Her arms snake around my neck and she leans her forehead against mine. “Thank you for this weekend.”

  “It’s not over yet, you know.” We went into town earlier today and saw a few sights. She had a little anxiety this morning, but has otherwise been free of it. School is her biggest source of anxiety. I’m hoping once she graduates, a job won’t fill the void school will leave.

  Brittany leans forward, presses her mouth to mine, and kisses me. She pulls away just when it’s getting good. “You looked like you were thinking too much.”

  “How did I look?”

  She takes a deep breath, and then flattens her lips, pulls her brows together just a little, and stares at me. Then she laughs. “Like that minus the laugh.”

  “You’re cute.” I grin.

  “And I’m starting to prune. I think we should get out. Oh! How about you get out, get our towels, and come back for me?” When I don’t answer immediately, she promises, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Okay, fine, but just so you know, I was going to do it anyway.” She rolls her eyes as she pulls away from me. “Holy shit,” I mutter as I get out. My body went from being warm and toasty to cold as fuck. I snatch a towel off the nearby table, wrap it around myself, and wrap another around my
shoulders. I turn back to the hot tub, lean in to pick Brittany up, and hurry like hell to get inside.

  Our teeth are chattering as I place Brittany on her own two feet. I pull the towel from my shoulders to place it around hers, rubbing her arms to warm her up.

  “Id-i-ots,” she chatters, causing me to laugh.

  “Let’s put some clothes on.” We walk to the bedroom and Brittany disappears into the bathroom. I shed the wet swim trunks, dry off, and pull on some bottoms. I go into the kitchen and grab the Ritz crackers, peanut butter, marshmallows, a butter knife, and a pan.

  “Why are you shirtless?” Brittany asks from behind me, her arms going around my waist. “And what are you making?”

  “Because I can be, and it’s sorta like a s’more but with a cracker and peanut butter.”

  “Sounds good. What’s it called?” She peers around me to watch me spread peanut butter on a cracker before sticking half of a marshmallow on it and setting it on the pan.

  “I don’t know. It’s just something my—” I falter as memories of my mother making them for me assault me. Shaking my head, I start again. “It’s just something my mom used to make. I don’t know what they’re called. I don’t remember her ever giving it a name.”

  “Oh.” She’s quiet as I make a few more. “I can list what I know about your mom on one hand, and really, one hand is too much because I only know one thing—that she died in December. Is there a reason why you don’t talk about her?”

  “I don’t not talk about her; she hasn’t come up a lot is all. She tried her hardest to be the best mom, and she was a good one.”

  “How did she die?”

  I sigh. “There’s a story there, Britt, and we’re not getting into it this weekend.”

  “Okay,” she says softly.

  “Turn the broiler on in the oven, and cut these marshmallows in half.”

  She kisses my shoulder blade before doing as I asked. Once all the crackers are topped with marshmallows, I stick them in the oven, turning on the oven light. I stand next to the oven to keep an eye on them while Brittany hops onto the counter top. She dressed herself in sweatpants and a hoodie. I bend down to check on our sweet and salty dessert, which is starting to brown.

  I look at Brittany and see her head tilted down as she stares at the floor. “Brittany, you okay?” Maybe she’s thinking too much about what I did and didn’t say about my mom. She doesn’t act as if she heard me. “Brittany,” I say a little louder.

  Her head snaps up. “What?”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “No. Sorry, I zoned out, I guess.” She’s zoned out a few times today.

  “You feel okay?”

  “Yeah, I feel fine.” She smiles.

  I believe her. However, that doesn’t stop an uneasy feeling from settling over me. I grab a potholder and open the oven just in time to pull the pan out before the marshmallows get too dark. Brittany comes to stand next to me.

  “They look good,” she says.

  “Give them a minute or so to cool and we can eat a few.” I reach over to turn the oven off. Once they’ve cooled, we each pick up one. Brittany takes a bite while I pop the whole thing in my mouth.

  “Mmm. That’s good,” she says once she’s swallowed her bite.

  “I know.” I grin, and she laughs.

  We eat a few more before going to sit in the living room and turning on the TV. Brittany’s phone dings with a text, and I suspect it’s her mother. I know Brittany told her she would be gone with her boyfriend over the weekend. It’s caused her mom to text instead of call. She picks it up, sends a quick text, and then leans into my side.

  “When did it start to feel different?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “Us. When we were talking before. When did it start to feel different?”

  I think about it for a moment. Was there a particular instance when I knew we were veering in a totally different direction than the one we started on? I remember being hesitant about texting her. A big level of trust is involved when handing out your personal phone number to a former client. Not only that, around the time she asked was when I was in the middle of a divorce. I didn’t tell her until after it was finalized, but the realization that I wanted to talk to her more in whatever way she wanted was what caused me to move to texting. Things progressed slowly from there.

  “If I had to pick one moment, I’d say when I got the email with your phone number.”

  “For me, it was when you told me you got a divorce. I didn’t ever think about you having a wife, and I wondered if I should feel guilty for talking to you. That’s when I knew something about us had changed, but it wasn’t until I saw you in your office that I realized how much I wanted a chance for something more. I was so relieved to see you.” She skirts her fingers over my stomach. “How are you not cold?

  “Standing by the oven warmed me up.” I pull on the hem of her hoodie, letting my own fingers graze her skin. I smile when she shivers. “Maybe you should take this off and make us even.”

  She lifts her head with a deadpan expression, and I grin, which makes her smile. “I could go put on some of that lingerie I bought.”

  I dip my head to kiss her neck. “There’s no time for that.”

  She pushes my shoulders. “That’s what you said last night. I’m wearing one this weekend, Trace. You can sit here and figure out which one I’ll put on. Give me five minutes and then you can come find me.” Brittany wiggles away from me to disappear into the bedroom.

  If she wants to put on a sexy piece of lingerie, then I won’t stop her. I guess since she did buy them, she should wear them. Even if they will come right back off her body.

  We went into town again this morning, but have spent our time cleaning up the cabin since we returned after lunch. That uneasy feeling from yesterday increases by the second. Brittany has slowly faded away. She was fine this morning, I thought. She just started spacing out and seemed to go numb. I couldn’t get her to smile or laugh or show any emotion. She claims she feels fine every time I ask.

  On the way home, she stares out the window, never saying a word. Something’s not right here. The drive seems to stretch into eternity as my anxiety continues to build. When I finally pull into my driveway, I meet Brittany around the front of my car and drag her inside. We sit on the couch and I turn toward her, cupping her face to look at her.

  “Do you feel okay, Britt? Be honest with me.”

  She blinks. “Feel fine.”

  There’s no emotion on her face. None. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out a lie. “I’m breaking up with you.”

  Brittany blinks again. “Okay.”

  Nothing. No confusion, hurt, or anything. I release her face, grabbing the back of my neck. “What are you feeling, Brittany?”

  She stares at me.

  “Tell me!” I demand.

  “I…I feel…” She seems to search for the word. “Numb. I don’t feel anything really; haven’t all day.”

  My heart hammers in my chest. Her new medication! Of course. That makes sense. But instead of my anxiety lessening, it heightens. “Stay right here. I’m going to get our bags.” She planned on going back to campus tonight, but she isn’t now. “You’re staying here tonight,” I add.

  “I thought you broke up with me?”

  “No, Britt, I was just trying to get some kind of reaction out of you. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  She nods, and I head outside where she can’t see me crack. Without thinking, I pull out my phone to call Dr. Will Gunner. We actually attended the same university. We’re good friends, but I haven’t talked to him lately.

  “Hey, Trace,” he answers.

  “She’s a fucking zombie, Will,” I snap.

  “What? Who?”

  “Brittany Roberts! That new shit you prescribed has her feeling nothing!”

  There’s a second of silence. “What is going on, Trace? How in the hell do you know how she’s reacting to medication that was just prescribed to he
r?”

  “Because,” I take a deep breath, “she’s my girlfriend.”

  “Are you crazy, Trace?” he asks with disbelief.

  “She hasn’t been my client for three and a half years,” I quickly interrupt.

  “But she was.”

  “Well, she’s not now,” I growl.

  “You don’t sound so great yourself, you know.”

  I ignore that, not wanting to admit that I’m panicking. “I’ll have her call you tomorrow, but she’ll be okay to stop taking it in the meantime, right?”

  “Yeah, this hypothetical person will be okay to miss tonight’s dose and the one in the morning. Don’t call me again about her unless it’s an absolute emergency. I’m not going to talk about anything related to her unless your name is listed in her files as someone I have permission to discuss these things with. Understand?”

  “Got it.” It’s tempting to tell him to be careful what he puts her on, but he knows her history as well as I do. He’s a good psychiatrist, and he wouldn’t put her on something if he thought she’d react badly to it.

  “Next time you call, I hope it’s to catch up.”

  “Yeah, me too. Later, Will.” I hang up and take a deep breath. My body finally begins to calm down as I start grabbing our luggage. This girl is going to kill me one way or another.

  There’s so much that happened over the weekend, and I don’t know what to think about first. It’s causing me to think about everything. First, there’s apparently a story behind his mom’s death and that just doesn’t sound good. Then, I know I freaked him out with how I reacted on the medication. I’ve been on the new one Dr. Gunner prescribed after I called him Monday morning for three full days now. Is it possible for someone to be silently overbearing? He doesn’t constantly ask if I’m okay, but he does watch me a lot whenever I’m around. He asked me over again tonight, but I turned him down.

  My anxiety has been off the charts. I’m not sure if it’s just me, or the medicine hasn’t kicked in yet, or if it’s the medicine making it worse. Whenever my anxiety gets really bad, that seems to be when my depression is lured out of its cave to attack. Rebecca planned to drag me out tonight. But I’m two seconds away from calling in the grinch. I’ve left every night this week to go to Trace’s. I’m not going anywhere tonight.