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“We have to go this way.”
“Why?”
Traffic is stopped on the deceleration lane of the exit, so I reach over to open the glovebox. I pull out the tickets I picked up on my lunch break and hand them to her. She presses the overhead light, so she can see.
“Oh my god! How did you get these?”
“Every time the local radio station was giving away tickets, I called in. Finally won a pair this morning.”
She leans over the middle console to hug me. “You were right to be sure of yourself,” she tells me with a grin as she pulls away. Traffic starts moving slowly, so I focus on the road again. “God, I can’t believe you got these. They’re good seats too!” She squeals and dances a little in her seat. “I’m so excited!”
I smile. It’s good to see her genuinely happy without anything holding her down. We arrive just fine and make our way inside without any problems. Brittany wraps her arm around mine and sticks close to my side.
“Not a big fan of insane crowds like this,” she mutters as she holds onto my arm in a vise-like grip. “Get me to our seats, Trace.”
“Almost there,” I reassure her. Can’t blame her for not liking crowds like this. Who would want to be jammed in the middle of people in an aisle as everyone is trying to get to their seats? Someone bumps hard into her shoulder, so I pull her to stand and walk in front of me, keeping my hands on her hips. Even that little bit of contact shows me how tense she is. “Right here,” I tell her when we approach our row. She takes a deep breath once we’re in our seats. “Doing okay?”
“Yeah; I just hate that part of things like this. Thank you for doing this, Trace.”
“You’re welcome.”
Brittany leans over to give me a quick kiss. She doesn’t care much for the opening acts because she’s extremely picky when it comes to her country music preferences. She loves this band, though. She sings to every song and I’m pretty sure she smiles the entire time. She tenses up when we go to leave again, but I keep her in front of me this time.
“Best concert I’ve ever seen,” she says once we’re in the car.
“I have to agree.” The band was amazing.
“Well,” she begins as she buckles her seatbelt. “Take me home, so I can thank you.”
I grin and back out of my parking space. Whatever she wants, I’ll do. These good days make it easier to get through the hard ones. I’m hoping for more good days before the inevitable harder days come.
“I’m calling the grinch, babe,” I whisper, pulling the covers over my head, so I don’t have to look at him. The happiness from the concert and the weekend is long gone. It’s midweek and midterms are kicking my ass. My heart is beating out of control, my chest hurts, I’m sweating, and my hand aches from the frequency and strength with which I squeeze my wrist.
Trace tries to pull the blanket down, but I hold it in place. “You can’t, Britt. Let’s get up and shower. You survived Monday and Tuesday, you can survive today.”
“Barely,” I grumble.
Trace gets out of bed, and I think I’ve won, even though I don’t want to. I need to go to class no matter how much I hate the thought. My body lacks the energy to force myself out of bed. I’m startled when the covers fly off the bed. Trace leans over to pick me up, cradling me in his arms as he walks to the bathroom.
“There. Half the battle is done,” he tells me.
“I hate you.” Total lie, but I’m annoyed and anxious.
“I love you,” he says simply. Trace turns on the water in the shower and begins to strip.
“You can’t distract me just because you’re naked.”
“Worked yesterday.”
Yeah, but once the high of sex went away, I nearly crashed from the anxiety overwhelming me. Once Trace has stripped down, he starts undressing me, but it makes me feel like I’m helpless. “I’ll do it,” I say quietly. “Get in and get a head start.” He eyes me for a moment before getting into the shower. I quickly finish undressing and step in after him. “Will you wash my hair again?”
“Anything you want.”
He washed my hair yesterday and it felt amazing with those big hands massaging my scalp. We wash ourselves, which is nothing special, but Trace’s gaze keeps traveling over my body. He grabs my shampoo, squirts too much into his hand, and steps closer to me. My eyes close as his hands get lost in my hair. Every time I inhale, my breasts brush against his torso. The length of him is hot and hard between us, leaning against me. My body starts to relax.
He kisses my lips softly, just a breath of a touch. His mouth drops kisses to my nose, my forehead, my cheeks, and my jaw. Feeling a bit dizzy, I grab his hips. “Sure I can’t distract you?” he whispers. I open my eyes to see his face hovering just above mine. Those hazel eyes are intense with all of his focus on me.
“It’s only a temporary distraction,” I weakly point out. I don’t even know why I’m trying to put up a fight.
