Making Me Sane (Sanity Book 2) (24 page)

“I was suddenly worried on the way in here that you’d have a twin bed.” He sets the bags down on the full-size bed and I laugh.

“Nope. You’re in luck and will get to sleep in here with me.” He seems to feel a little better today. He assured me this morning that he wanted to come regardless, but he seemed cranky when he said it. I’m glad his mood has improved.

“It’s weird to be here,” he says as we begin to change into our bathing suits. “Back to where it all began and at your parents’,” he clarifies. “Like, here we are in your old bedroom at your parents’ and we’re getting naked.”

I laugh. “To re-dress; stop making it sound weirder.”

“So you agree?” He raises an eyebrow at me.

“No, I don’t.” I glance around the room that hasn’t changed since high school and then to Trace, all the while I’m shimmying into my bikini bottoms. “Okay, it’s a little...odd, but it feels right, too.”

He smiles and tugs me against him. I haven’t yet put on my top, but I have already discarded my shirt and bra. We’re bare chest to bare chest. “I agree.” He dips his head to drop a kiss on my forehead before releasing me and handing me my top.

I hold the cups to my breasts and turn with my back facing him. “Tie me up.”

Trace chuckles and makes a tsking sound. “Three little words that can mean a few different things,” he says as he does as I asked.

“Don’t even think any dirty thoughts, Trace. Those aren’t allowed while we’re here because I am
so
not that type of girl.”

“But you are,” he insists. “What’s the difference between it being my dad and stepmom across the hall and your parents down the hall?”

The memory of that night surges to the forefront of my mind. How could that have slipped my mind?

“How’s that?” he asks, tugging both of the knots he tied.

“Good, thanks.” I turn to face him. “The difference is that...” What is the difference? “There just is one!” I burst out, exasperated. “So, your body is on probation. Your hands are restricted to my hands and the small of my back unless you’re applying sunscreen, and your mouth is restricted to my face. Got it?”

He smirks. “Yes, ma’am.”

I grab the bag with all of our beach stuff and walk out of the room, knowing he’ll follow me. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but we’re different. Maybe I’ve learned how to let go and blindly trust him. Or maybe after talking to my dad, I realized I would do anything to be with Trace and I’m finally doing what I need to. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. I don’t know and I really don’t care because between making headway on getting my head on straight and what’s happening between Trace and me, I’m happy again.

The weight on my shoulders the past year has felt so unbearably heavy. All the negative that could be stacked and shoved into crevices was sitting on the invisible pallet on my shoulders. Ignoring it certainly didn’t make it go away even while numbing the pain in whatever method I used. Harboring and fueling the fire of my fury toward Trace only packed on the pounds, adding to the overall weight. Dealing with it, taking my meds like I should, being with Trace, and truly placing some trust in him, in us, has started to make me feel light on my feet again.

There’s still a hesitation in me. There’s still that nagging thought in the back of my mind that is begging me to tread carefully. There’s still a hurricane siren of a warning that is reminding me that when Trace hurts me, he nearly kills me.

But there’s also reminders that he does his best to take care of me. That, in particular, is something Mrs. Potter had to point out to me. I felt guilty that she had to do it to start with. However, in our last session, when I recounted the events at Ben’s party, she pointed out that even when we were at odds, Trace brought me food and ate with me. He listened to Melissa and gave me time.

There’s evidence that Trace loves me, wants to be with me, and is willing to talk to me in all the ways he didn’t before. The key for me, according to Mrs. Potter, is recognizing all those little things, acknowledging and appreciating them. She said that’s how I’ll be able to truly regain my trust in Trace. By finding those little things he does or says and building the blocks with those because it may not be obvious or grand gestures. She even stole Trace’s saying that we’re all constantly works in progress and suggested that I remind myself of that on the occasion of a misstep or something of the like.

So, that’s what I’m doing because I desperately want to be able to fully trust him.

Lily sticks by my dad’s side all day. She has even ignored Trace when he was going to take her for a bathroom break walk, so Dad did it. We’re wading in the water while my parents are enjoying the shade of the large umbrella with Lily. My legs are wrapped around Trace’s waist, my arms around his neck.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“I think you’ve lost your dog to my dad. She might not want to come back home with us. I always wondered why we never got another dog.”

Trace looks to shore and shrugs. “It’s okay. As long as I get to keep you,” he adds.

“Hmm,” I hum as he pushes off of the sand to avoid the wave crashing into us. “I’m on board for that and I think my dad is too.”

“What changed his mind?” Trace blurts out. “I keep thinking about how last week you said you had a heart to heart with him, and last time I saw your dad, he was still pissed.”

“I don’t think he changed his mind.” When Trace frowns, I hurry to add, “I mean, what he said didn’t have anything to do with you. Not really. It was all about me, so I think he’s accepted that I’m keeping you, too.”

Trace grins and kisses me. A swell of water crashes on us, leaving me with burning eyes and nose while I spit some water from my mouth. The water caused Trace’s hair to go all in one direction.

I try to ignore that as I chide him. “Trace! You’re off wave-watching duty.” His hands are now fumbling with my top and boobs. “What are you doing?” I squeak, making him laugh.

“Readjusting before you flash everyone.”

Sure enough, my top has shifted. “Tie it again. It’s gotten loose.” I drop my legs from his waist, turn around, and float because I can’t touch the bottom like he can. “Hurry up before that wave gets here.”

“I can jump and tie at the same time, Britt.”

“Especially now that you’ve already copped your feel.”

Trace laughs. “You’re free to cop a feel, too.” He grabs my waist and turns me back toward him now that he’s finished.

I choose to ignore his comment, though I can’t help my smile.

We wade for a bit before I get thirsty. I tell Trace I’ll be right back and leave him in the water. But when I reach my parents and grab a bottle of Sun Drop from the cooler, Dad says, “Stay here for a few minutes, Brittany. I want to talk to Trace while he can’t escape.”

He’s out of his chair and walking away with Lily on his heels before I can open my mouth. Lily trots into the water a bit before stopping to wait for my dad to return. Looks like she doesn’t love the ocean enough to go too far in. I take a seat in my chair and look at Mom.

“What’s that about?”

“Don’t have a clue.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t lie.”

“It’s between your father and Trace, Brittany.”

“But you know.”

“Your father told me, yes, because I’m his wife and your mother. If Trace wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

Well, that’s not helpful at all. Dad’s out there with Trace for ten minutes and as far as I can tell, there’s a discussion for all of it. Unfortunately, Dad and Trace both come out of the water at the same time. So much for rushing into the water the moment Dad was coming back to find out what was said. They’re both smiling, so that’s good.

“I think we’re ready for those sandwiches you put together,” Dad tells Mom.

My eyes are on Trace as he sits next to me. He shrugs in response to my unspoken question, which gives me a little hope that I’ll find out what was discussed later. For now, it’s time for lunch and enjoying a day at the beach.

“I know I put sunscreen on you; how did you get this sunburned, Britt?” Trace asks the next day when we’re home and he’s gently rubbing some of that cool gel on my back and shoulders.

“I don’t know, but we obviously should’ve done more.” Trace and I both reapplied the same number of times, but he’s a nice tan while I’m red and uncomfortable. “I’m going to hate wearing a bra tomorrow.” The moment we got into the car, I carefully removed mine. My shirt irked me, but the bra was the only thing I could get rid of.

“We can meet for lunch here and I’ll put some more of this stuff on you.”

“Aw, thanks, Trace. You’re the sweetest boyfriend ever.”

He chuckles. “Still not going to tell you what I talked about with your dad.”

I pout, even though he can’t see me. All he told me was that it was a “good talk.” We spent most of today with my parents before getting home around nine. It was a great weekend. Perfect, even. But now we’re home and I’m suddenly exhausted.

“What’s wrong?” Trace asks. Can he read my mind? He’s finished with me, so I turn to face him, still holding my shirt to my chest to cover me up.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“Your shoulders just all of a sudden dropped.” Ah, so he can read my body language. Trace pulls me against him, and his eyes squint a bit as if he’s trying to read my mind.

“It hit me how tired I am is all. Don’t you want to go to bed early with me?”

He smiles. “You read my mind.”

We send Lily out, get ready for bed, Trace goes to make sure the doors are locked, and I don’t even care to warn Trace about the fact that I’m so not sleeping with a shirt on. The plan is to sleep on my stomach with the sheets way down low, so it doesn’t rub against my back. How does only one side get burned? That is the other mystery here.

I watch Trace enter the room, stop when he sees me, and he asks, “Shirtless or naked?”

“Pajamaless.” I am wearing panties. Unless it’s after sex, I’ve never slept naked with Trace. Not to mention that he’d be naked then too. He climbs in next to me and matches how I’m lying while Lily jumps onto the bed and settles at my feet. “Are you glad we went this weekend?”

“Yeah, but like you, I’m in need of some time to recover. Hopefully, going to bed early will be enough.” He leans over to give me a quick kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Yes, hopefully this will be enough.

Trace falls asleep rather quickly, but I don’t. I carefully turn onto my side and even my back. Trace has
amazing
sheets. I could comfortably sleep on my back if I could ever fall asleep. I gently toss and turn for two hours.

“Britt,” Trace grumbles. “What’s bothering you?” He sighs as he rolls onto his back, looking at me with sleepy eyes.

“Nothing. I just can’t sleep.”

“Come here.”

I wiggle over to rest my head on his chest.

“Just listen to my breathing and heartbeats and see if that helps. Worse comes to worst, I’ll bore you to sleep.”

“Did I wake you or did you happen to wake up?”

“I always wake up when you’re tossing and turning, but I don’t mind. I would rub your back, but...” His voice trails off and I laugh a little.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too. Now, go to sleep.”

It takes me a little while, but I do fall asleep.

Rebecca:
Did you move? I dropped by yesterday and someone else answered the door.

Me:
Yeah, I moved in with Trace.

Rebecca:
Oh. Want to meet for lunch or dinner sometime this week?

I’ve never been hesitant to respond to a text from Rebecca before. But after she told Quinn I wanted to get back together with him and set up what could’ve effectively ended things between Trace and me, I’m not so sure of our friendship anymore. Not to mention that I haven’t even heard from her since then. Until now, of course.

Trace is already home when I come to meet him on my lunch break. He laughs when I waste no time taking off my shirt and bra for him to put that gel on me.

“It looks better today,” he tells me.

“Better is not gone,” I grumble, shivering as the cold gel is spread over my skin. He thinks that is funny as well. Once he’s done, we set about heating up leftovers for lunch. “So, I want your opinion on something.”