Free Just Breathe by Tamara Mataya Page A

country and punk are the worst, I physically can’t listen to the song, I have to get away or it gets worse and worse until the rest of my senses short circuit. Bad music makes me feel physically uncomfortable to the point it effects my emotions and frustrates me until I want to squirm inside out.
    Dominic seems like a decent guy but my Synaesthesia is a giant pain. I’ll have to see how he handles it. He may not handle it at all. No sense freaking out about it getting serious if he doesn’t last past the first date. If he even shows up.
    Oh my god, what if he stands me up? I don’t think I can take being abandoned again. I need to get high. I need to get high enough to function on our date, but not so high that I’m in a stupor. I’d be smoking to try to be functional, not to obliterate reality. My nerves are shot. What if I’m getting my hopes up for nothing and he doesn’t even show up?
    No! I can’t go back to that smoky haze no matter how nervous I am.
    Should I get a glass of wine to calm my nerves? No. Replacing one addiction for another isn’t the way to go. And I want to remember this date. These are, or should be, good nerves. A hot guy got me flowers and asked me out! This is a good thing!
    Keeping this in mind, I truck along getting ready. Makeup and hair done, I fuss with my outfit and change my shirt for the fourth time tonight. The doorbell rings. A glance at my alarm clock shows that it is indeed Dominic, right on time for our date. I’m in a pair of inky blue jeans that Kennedy made that make my ass look twelve kinds of sexy and a silky dark silver tank top with soft, stretchy, lace trim. I grab a black suede wrap-top to go over it—another of Kennedy’s creations, and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. There isn’t time for another wardrobe change.
    Kennedy answers the front door as I walk out of my room. Damn! It’s not that I don’t want her and Nick to know about Dominic; I didn’t want them to have the opportunity to give him the third degree before I get to know him at all, outside of my face meeting his chest. I didn’t tell Kennedy about my date as I didn’t think she’d be here. Nick’s still at work and Kennedy’s supposed to be having drinks with someone. I hear Dominic ask if I’m home.
    “I’m here, just a sec.” I stop to put my sexy stompy boots on. They give me a few inches of height, and are comfortable enough that I am pretty much covered for whatever the date throws at me, while also being stylish. Kennedy murmurs something and giggles, and I hear but can’t make out Dominic’s response. Interesting. Kennedy isn’t generally so friendly with my dates, preferring instead to play bad cop until she gets to know them. Not that I’ve had many. I grab my purse and stride to the front door.
    “You look fabulous!” Kennedy’s gaze sweeps me head to toe.
    “I think that’s my line,” Dominic replies.
    “You two seem friendly,” I comment mildly. “Do you know each other?”
    “Not really,” Kennedy says. “But I like this one. Have a great night, Elle. Take care of my girl, Dominic.” She pats him on the shoulder and walks into the kitchen. Strange.
    “So, I’m ready to go.”
    “You really do look amazing.”
    “Thanks. So do you.” He’s wearing some jeans, boots, and a fitted, deep cranberry coloured sweater, almost a turtleneck, but it folds down with a cool asymmetrical button detail down one side from the neck to the collarbone. Very put together and sexy, and I like what I can see of his body.
    We make our way to his car. It’s actually a mid-size SUV, and an expensive one if looks are anything to go by. He opens my door for me and waits until I’m settled before shutting the door and walking around to his side. Jason never used to do that for me. In fact, he stopped even coming to the door—though we were in the apartment then. He’d just park outside and honk or send me a text.
    Soft leather seats, spacious interior, this is a seriously