Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (10 page)

Back in the car, he slipped his beanie on and perched his sunglasses atop his elegant nose.

I clasped my hands together so that I wouldn’t reach over and run my fingers along the stubble grazing his jaw.

“I’m hungry,” he announced.

“Okaaay,” I drew out the word.

“Wanna go to Sonic?” He asked, and I remembered passing one before we got here.

“Sure,” I shrugged. “I’ve never been there.”

His jaw dropped. “You’ve
never
been to Sonic?”

“Nope, never. I don’t think there were very many in New Hampshire,” I explained. “Plus, my dad wouldn’t let us eat out. We always had home cooked meals.”

Trace looked at me like I had spoken a foreign language. “There are so many things I need to show you. You haven’t experienced anything.”

I blushed at his words and hid my face behind the curtain of my hair.

“Don’t do that,” he murmured, reaching up to brush my long hair behind my ear, “Never hide your face from me.”

My breath came out in short gasps. He’d said something similar the day he took me to lunch.

He smoothed his thumb over my cheek and let his hand drop.

“
This
, is Sonic?” I asked, looking around the parking space he’d pulled into, that was surrounded on both sides by a menu. Other cars were parked in different spots, all with the same setup.

“Yep,” he grinned, turning off his car, and manually rolling down his window.

“This is weird,” I glanced at the two different menus.

Trace chuckled and I whipped my head in his direction. “What?” I snapped.

“Your face is priceless,” he snickered.

“This is kind of overwhelming,” I looked from the menu on his side of the car and back to the one on mine.

“Relax, it’s really not. This is the food menu,” he explained, pointing to the menu on his side, “breakfast, lunch, desert, the whole shebang. That one,” he pointed to the one beside me, “is just for promotional stuff.”

“Oh,” I nodded, feeling relieved. I tended to overreact whenever I was presented with something new.

I leaned towards Trace, careful not to touch him, so I could read the menu.

“You have to try their tater tots, they’re the best,” he commented.

I scooted back to my side of the car. “Just order me whatever you’re having.”

“You sure?” He raised a brow.

“I’m not picky,” I smiled.

“Okay,” he hesitated for a moment, before pushing the red button, and waiting for someone to respond.

After he ordered our food, I looked over at him and probed, “Tell me something about yourself. You know about my dad and my list, but I really don’t know anything about you. That doesn’t seem fair.”

He grinned, flashing only a small amount of his straight white teeth. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything you want me to know,” I relaxed into the seat.

“Hmm,” he mused, “I have a little brother, Trent. He’s seventeen and a senior in high school. We’re close despite the fact that I’m five years older.”

“So, you’re twenty-two?” I asked.

“Someone knows their math,” he joked.

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?” I pestered, curious to find out more about Trace. I had opened myself up to him, for some reason, and I wanted him to do the same with me. I wanted to know the real man behind the cocky panty-dropping smile.

He grew quiet and I could hear the wheels turning in his head. He snapped his fingers and grinned. “I like to dance.”

“Dance?” I questioned, my brows raised. Trace didn’t strike me as a dancer.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I suck at it, but I enjoy it. I dance while I work on cars, I dance while I cook, you never know when it’s gonna happen.”

I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh, as I pictured Trace dancing in the middle of the grocery store, or some other odd place.

“That’s very—uh—interesting,” I giggled.

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to know something about me,” he shrugged, with his residual smirk.

“Right you are,” I smiled as a girl appeared on Trace’s side of the car, with a tray full of food, and drinks.

Trace sat up, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. I didn’t even bother fumbling through my purse for mine. I knew Trace wouldn’t accept any money for my meal. Stubborn man.

He took the food and drinks, placing them on the bench seat in his car.

He handed her a bill and waved her away.

“Raspberry tea for the lady,” he handed me a Styrofoam cup. Since there were no cup holders, I held it between my knees. “Tater tots and a hotdog,” he placed the items on the seat with a wad of napkins, before pulling out identical items for himself. “And,” he pointed to the two extra cups, “these are our desert.”

“What is it? A chocolate shake?” I inspected the top of it.

Trace grimaced. “No, it’s a chocolate malt. There’s a big difference. Prepare to have your world rocked,” he chuckled, ripping open a packet of ketchup, and dumping it on his tater tots. “Want some?” He held up another packet.

I shook my head. “I hate ketchup.”

He gasped. “How is it possible to hate ketchup? It’s one of the single most delicious food items
ever
.”

“It’s gross,” I glared at the red goo covering his tater tots.

“Suit yourself,” he popped one in his mouth.

I happily ate a plain, non-ketchup drenched, tater tot, and Trace chuckled.

“You are one interesting girl, Olivia Owens,” he commented, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Interesting is always better than boring,” I smiled, biting into the hotdog. “This is really good,” I pointed to the food.

He stretched his arm along the bench seat. “Told ya.”

We finished eating and stayed parked to drink our chocolate malts. It was thick but delicious. Trace kept smiling at me as I drank the malt.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he grinned, shaking his head. His dark hair fell over his green eyes and he promptly pushed it back.

“No, you’re thinking something,” I insisted. “Tell me.”

“It’s just…who would’ve thought that the girl I stopped to help with her flat tire, would be sitting in my car right now. I’m just…I’m glad I met you,” he shrugged.

“I’m glad I met you too,” I smiled.

He grinned cockily. “I’m sure you are.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re so cocky.”

“No, I’m confident. There’s a big difference in confident and cocky,” he winked, taking the straw into his mouth, and my eyes followed the movement of his lips. Those lips should be illegal and I hadn’t even had a taste yet.

I blushed at my thoughts and turned away from him.

“Why do you do that?” Trace asked, perplexed.

“Do what?” I questioned, reluctantly turning to face him.

“Blush and then look away. I know you’re still blushing even if I can’t see you,” he leaned against the driver’s side door to face me fully.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I guess it’s a defense mechanism.”

“Why do you need to be defensive about blushing? It’s a perfectly normal reaction,” he licked a drop of chocolate malt from his lip and my heart stuttered in my chest.

I took a deep breath and stuck my finger into the whipped cream. “You don’t understand the kind of home I grew up in,” I reasoned, licking off the whipped cream.

His green eyes darkened as he watched my finger. I blushed again. I wished I could turn off the blushing, but around Trace my cheeks seemed to have a permanent rosy hue.

“Then make me understand,” he insisted.

“Not today,” I sighed. “I’m having a good time and I don’t want to ruin it by talking about things that I wish would stay in the past.”

“Fair enough,” he grinned, changing the subject by talking about random things, like music and favorite colors.

I liked how Trace understood when not to push me. He would let me tell him about myself on my terms. It was nice not having someone trying to pry information out of me.

I smiled the rest of the afternoon we spent together and even late into the night. Not even grumpy Avery could sour my mood.

“Where are you going?” Avery asked, pushing away from her desk as I headed towards the door.

“I have plans with Trace. I’m supposed to meet him at the garage. He gets off work soon,” I explained, lifting my purse onto my shoulder.

“Oh,” she frowned.

“Still upset over Luca?” I asked.

“No,” she answered hastily, turning away from me.

“You are,” I grinned.

She turned back around and my smile faded. Avery truly was hurt.

“I just…I thought I understood men, but Luca seems to be entirely different. I can’t read him at all,” she shrugged, playing with the ends of her hair. “Normally, I know when a guy’s into me, but with Luca, I’m clueless. I can’t tell whether he hates me, tolerates me, or actually likes me. He doesn’t say much,” she mused.

I felt bad for her, I did, but I also found her situation funny too, because it wasn’t like her to be this…worked up over a guy. Avery’s confidence level was through the roof, but something about Luca made her…insecure.

“Maybe that’s because you’re too busy kissing each other to carry on a conversation,” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest.

Avery had finally met up with Luca, and apparently, they’d ended up doing the deed on the hood of his car. At least, that’s what Trace told me, because he said he walked in on them. Avery had told me nothing, which was unusual. Normally, she told me everything, even the gory details that I had no desire to hear. I was really starting to think she had feelings for Luca, which made me all kinds of excited. I wanted Avery to find a guy she loved and stop fooling around. She needed to learn that someone could truly care about her for
her
. I knew from what she had told me that her parents were wealthy, and had only looked at her and her brothers as an accessory. Which led her to believe that no one could ever love or want her.

“That could be it,” she laughed. “But I
have
tried to talk to him before and he gives me grunts for answers.”

I snorted.

“He’s a total caveman,” she giggled, “but I kinda like that about him. Plus, he has these big man hands, and you know I love me some man hands.”

“Avery, you’re something else,” I laughed. “I’ve really got to go though, can we talk later?”

“Sure,” she spun in her chair. I swear, one day I was going to find a way to mess up that chair, so it couldn’t twirl. “I don’t have any plans for tonight. I’ll just be here, all by myself, while my so-called best friend ditches me for a hot piece of ass.”

“Bye,” I called over my shoulder, rolling my eyes.

“Have fun, Livie!” She hollered as I closed the door.

I let out a sigh of relief, dashed down the steps, and out of the building.

I walked quickly to my car, holding on tightly to the mace on my keychain. You never knew when a creeper could pop up.

I giggled to myself as I got in my car; I certainly hadn’t been reaching for the mace when Trace pulled up behind me.

Shaking my head, I drove to Pete’s Garage, and parked beside Trace’s car.

I walked around to the front of the building. The large garage door was open, exactly like when I’d been here to get my car fixed.

Music was playing loudly, the lyrics saying something about blowing the roof off the place.

I stepped inside, looking around, hoping that Trace didn’t scare me like last time.

I walked around a car and saw him.

He was completely oblivious to me, and I put my hand over my mouth, to stifle my giggle. He was dancing like…well…there were no words to describe Trace’s dancing style. It was interesting to say the least. In fact, I wasn’t sure if it could be considered dancing.

He held a metal car part in his hands while shaking his whole body.

This was not dancing; it was more like a seizure.

I kept my mouth covered so that I could watch him longer.

It would be cute if it wasn’t so funny.

He hadn’t been lying when he said he liked to dance, but he was right when he said he sucked. The man had no rhythm whatsoever.

He turned and spotted me.

And holy hell, I had been too taken by the dancing to notice he was shirtless.