Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (38 page)

I nodded. “Yeah, that makes me feel better.”
Not much better, but a little better.

“Great,” he beamed.

I wished I felt as happy as he looked. His smile seemed glued onto his face from excitement while I was trying not to throw up.

“What song are we singing?” I asked.

He contemplated, seeming to run through a list in his head. “What about,
If I Didn’t Have You,
by Thompson Square? Do you know that song?”

“Yeah, I know it,” I nodded, my nerves kicking up several notches. At least, if I made a fool of myself, I didn’t know any of these people.

“Olivia! Trace!”

Dammit.

Scratch that, I did know two of these people.

“What are you guys doing here?” Avery asked, snaking her way through the crowd to our table, with Luca at her heels.

“We’re going to sing,” Trace announced proudly.

Avery’s dark green eyes widened. “You’re going to sing?” She asked me. “Like on stage? In front of people?”

“Yep,” my eyes shifted nervously away from hers.

“What are you singing?” Luca asked Trace, pulling out a chair, and flipping it around backwards, before sitting.

“On my own? I haven’t decided yet,” Trace shrugged. “I’ll figure it out when I get up there.”

Luca’s eerie pale blue eyes zeroed in on Trace’s shirt. “What are you wearing?”

Trace sat back and pulled the shirt away from his body. “This? Olivia bought it for me.”

Avery snickered. “You bought him an
‘I Love Ketchup’
shirt?”

“He has a strange obsession with the stuff,” I shrugged. “I thought everyone should know.”

“Ketchup is delicious,” Trace licked his lips.

He looked at the time on his phone and stood. “I better get up there,” he pointed to the stage. “You can wait here till I finish my first song,” he informed me.

I watched him bleed into the crowd.

“I can’t believe you’re going to get up there and sing,” Avery shook her head.

“Are you good or do you suck?” Luca asked me.

Avery snorted and answered for me. “Olivia is amazing, but she’s too shy to sing in front of people. I caught her singing by accident.”

“Hmm,” Luca hummed, adjusting his fedora to hide the scar on his forehead. I noticed, that for once, he wasn’t wearing a vest. It seemed weird, seeing him without one. It was like his vests were an extension of his laidback personality. “You look more like the type to draw or something.”

I snorted. “I’m the least artistic person, ever. I can’t draw worth crap.” I had learned that the hard way when Trace took me for painting lessons.

A finger tapping against the microphone ceased our conversation as we turned to face the stage. There were still people standing near the stage, but most people had taken a seat, so I had a clear shot of Trace sitting on a stool. Another guy sat in the corner, with a guitar in his lap, he scratched his stubbled chin, and flipped his wavy dark hair out of his blue eyes.

My gaze quickly left the other guy and focused on Trace. He looked gorgeous sitting up there so casually. His dark brown hair was mused from running his fingers through it. “I’m going to sing,
Only You’re the One
, by Lifehouse. This one’s for Olivia,” he smirked in my direction. He motioned over his shoulder for the guy to start playing the guitar.

I sat, riveted, as the lyrics poured over me, along with Trace’s raspy singing voice.

“‘I’m with you when the lights go down. Take my hand I’m all yours now. I know you’re the only one that would never lead me on. I’m with you when the lights go down ‘cause you’re the one and…Only you’re the one and…’”

I swallowed thickly as the words of the song registered in my brain.

His green eyes never strayed from mine, as each word left his mouth, making their meaning more powerful.

“Whoa,” Avery gasped when the song ended, clapping her hands mechanically.

I clapped too, along with everyone else in the room, completely enamored with the man on stage that was mine completely.

Trace bowed his head under the crowd’s praise. “Thank you everyone,” he grinned. “If y’all don’t mind, I’d like to sing another song, with my girlfriend.” He waved me up on stage. “Get up here, Olivia.”

With red cheeks, I made my way up to the stage.

An older man, who worked there, brought out another stool and microphone. “Thanks, Griff,” Trace said to the man.

I sat on the stool and faced the large crowd. I took several deep breaths to calm myself but it wasn’t working.

Trace’s hand entwined with mine and he gave it a light squeeze. My gaze slid from the crowd and connected with his green eyes.

“You can do this, Olivia,” he assured me. “Forget about everyone else. It’s just me and you, baby.”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat and whispered, “You and me.”

He nodded, smiling reassuringly.

Trace nodded to the guy on the guitar again.

There was no turning back now.

I gripped the microphone so tightly in my hand that my knuckles turned white.

I took a deep breath and sang. “‘Sometimes it feels like, I’m gonna break. Sometimes this world, gives more than I can take. Sometimes, sunshine gets lost in the rain, and it keeps pouring down. It just keeps coming down.’”

It didn’t escape my attention that Trace had chosen a duet that was mostly sang by a female.

His voice mingled with mine on the chorus, and I was, once again, amazed by how well our voices blended together. My eyes never left his as we sang the chorus. “‘This life would kill me if I didn’t have you. I couldn’t live without you, baby, I wouldn’t want to. If you didn’t love me so much I’d never make it through ‘cause this life would kill me. This life would kill me if I didn’t have you.’”

The more I sang, the more confident I became. So, before the song was over, I found myself singing less to Trace and more to the crowd. I still gripped his hand for support, but I didn’t feel as scared as I did at the beginning of the song.

When the song ended, and the coffee shop erupted into applause, I found myself looking at the floor of the makeshift wood stage.

Trace stood, pulling me up beside him.

“Thank you,” Trace waved to the crowd.

“Thank you,” I mumbled bashfully, my earlier confidence completely drained.

Trace handed his microphone to the next performer and I handed mine to a coffee shop worker.

We hopped off the stage, hand in hand. Instead of returning straight to the table, Trace dragged me to the counter of the coffee shop.

Trace waved at the older guy working behind the counter. It was the same man who had handed me the microphone. “Hey, Trace,” the man said in a gravely voice, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt.

“Griff, this is my girlfriend, Olivia. Olivia, meet Griff, the owner,” Trace introduced us.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I smiled shyly at the older man. His gray hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and his light brown eyes were kind.

“Nice to meet you too, doll,” he chuckled. He leaned his elbows on the counter and eyed Trace. “I haven’t seen you here in a while…a
long
while.”

Trace cleared his throat. “I haven’t done much singing since high school. The place looks amazing,” Trace looked around. “You certainly didn’t have a stage when I performed here.”

“Didn’t need one,” Griff shrugged. “But more and more people kept showing up every week, so something had to be done.” Smiling at me, he pointed to the open area. “There used to be a wall there, but I took it down to make room for the stage, and give more room for eating.”

“So, you have more than coffee?” I asked.

Griff nodded. “It started out with only coffee and grew from there,” he shrugged his wide shoulders. “I’ve gotta get back to work but let me know if y’all want anything.”

“Thanks, Griff,” Trace waved and we melted back into the crowd.

I had hardly taken my seat beside Avery when she tackled me into a hug. I was surprised we didn’t fall to the ground.

“Girl,” she pulled away excitedly, “you were incredible!”

“Thanks,” I played with the end of my braid.

“Livie! Seriously! You have to start singing more! Your voice is so beautiful!” She flapped her arms excitedly.

“Thank you,” I repeated, “but as sick as that made me feel, it won’t be happening again, anytime soon…it was fun though.”

“Ugh! Olivia!” Avery exclaimed. “There’s no reason for you to get sick! You’re incredible!”

I stared down at the table; uncomfortable with the attention I was receiving, not just from Avery, but also from the other people in the coffee shop. I felt their stares and my skin crawled.

I glanced up and my eyes connected with Trace’s. He saw that I was uncomfortable and I pleaded with him to come to my rescue.

He scooted his chair back and stood. “Sorry guys,” he said to Luca and Avery. “I just realized that I’ve got to get to work early in the morning.” Avery frowned at Trace’s words. “This guy needs his car by eleven. So, um, Olivia, I’ll drop you off at your dorm.”

“Okay,” I silently thanked him with my eyes. “See ya, Avery. Luca.” I smiled at each of them and took Trace’s hand.

We forced our way through the crowd and onto the cobblestone walkway.

Snow flurries were still falling from the sky and darkness had descended. String lights were wrapped around the trunks of the trees. They twinkled merrily and I smiled at the sight.

We walked, hand in hand, to his car. Trace opened the passenger door for me and I slid inside.

He started up the car, and turned on the heat, but didn’t back out right away.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked.

“For what? Making me sing?” I questioned.

He nodded.

“No,” I answered. “Maybe at first. But I did enjoy it…until people started staring at me.” With a laugh, I added, “I’ve learned, though, that it’s impossible for me to stay mad at you.”

“It’s ‘cause I’m sexy,” he winked.

I laughed. “Especially in that shirt.”

“Don’t disrespect the shirt,” he chuckled with a grin. “You bought it.”

“I’m already regretting that decision,” I giggled as he backed out of the parking lot and headed towards campus.

“It’s my new favorite shirt,” he announced.

“You mean,” I paused for dramatic affect, “you like it more than plaid?” I snorted.

He tapped his chin. “Okay, maybe not.
Nothing
beats plaid. If plaid was a color, it’d be my favorite.”

“You’re so weird,” I shook my head.

“Most people find my weirdness charming,” he smirked.

“I guess I’m not most people,” I shrugged, covering my laugh with a hand.

We came to a stoplight, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “And that’s what I like the most about you.”

I took a deep breath as I strode across campus, my books clutched to my chest, as a heavy wind breezed by, almost knocking my hat off my head.

With my free hand, I reached up to keep my hat in place, but I was too late.

The fabric flew from my head and spun in the air.

“Dammit!” I cursed, running after it, thankful I was wearing sneakers today.

“I got it! I got it!” A male voice called and I watched a tan hand reach up in the air and grasp the dark blue fabric of my beanie.

I slowed to a walk, and held my hand out for my hat, slowly looking up to meet the eyes of the guy.

“Luca,” I gasped.

“Hey,” he smiled, dropping the hat in my hand.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, slipping my hat back on, rather crookedly, considering I only had one hand.

“I’m waiting for Avery. We have reservations for Valentine’s Day,” he shrugged.

“Oh, of course,” I shook my head. “Why else would you be here…wait, you said it’s Valentine’s Day?”

“Well, yeah,” Luca looked at me perplexed.

“I completely forgot,” I gasped, “crap.” I smacked my forehead. You’d think the red and pink hearts decorating stores, and even peppered around campus, would’ve tipped me off, but no, I was that dense apparently. I had been swamped lately with coursework, and life had been passing me by faster and faster. My time had been consumed with school, Trace, my mom, and hanging out with Avery when I had the time.

“I know Trace hasn’t,” Luca fell into step beside me as I headed towards the dorm. He was dressed a little warmer today, with a long sleeved navy shirt underneath a gray-buttoned vest. His fedora sat crookedly on his head and the sandy brown strands of his hair escaped from underneath.

“Shit,” I cursed, something I had been doing a lot of lately, “I am the worst girlfriend on the planet. No wonder Trace was adamant that we make plans for tonight. I kept trying to blow him off. I have a paper due on Monday and I need all the time I can get to finish it.”

“You still have Saturday and Sunday,” Luca shrugged.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “hopefully, that’ll be enough time,” I bit my lip. “Besides, I already gave in and told him I could go out tonight.”

“It’ll all work out,” he clapped a hand on my shoulder.

I was surprised by how talkative he was being. I had grown used to his caveman grunts and little to no words. Maybe, like me, Luca was shy and I needed to get to know him better, for him to open up.