Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (39 page)

We reached the dorm and Avery was walking out of the double doors. She squealed when she saw Luca and ran into his arms, wrapping her legs around his lean waist, and kissing him deeply.

I turned away, feeling like I was seeing something I wasn’t meant to see.

I heard him lower Avery to the ground and figured it was safe to look back.

Avery was smiling brightly at me, her cheeks flushed, and her red lipstick slightly smeared.

I pointed to a spot on my lips, indicating that she needed to wipe.

“Oh,” she mumbled, and slid her thumb under her lip, to remove the smear. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” I smiled.

“We’re going out so I won’t be back, tonight,” she looked at Luca significantly.

“I kinda figured that,” I chuckled, shrugging my shoulders to relieve some of the pressure from the backpack straps.

I said goodbye to Avery and Luca and slowly trudged up to my dorm. I dropped my stuff on the bed, placing the various items where they needed to go, and showered.

I dried my hair and let it hang down in its natural waves.

I checked the time and knew Trace would be arriving in less than ten minutes. If I wasn’t outside waiting, he’d finagle his way into the dorms. I’m sure all he had to do, was bat his eyes at some unsuspecting female, and they’d do whatever he said.

I dressed in clean clothes, but since I wasn’t sure what I should wear, I tried to dress up a little bit. I wore a pair of dark wash jeans, and a white button down shirt with a camel colored sweater over top. I ditched my sneakers for the heels Avery had given me, and my gold star necklace, which I never took off, completed the look.

I looked at the time again, and grabbed my purse, dashing out of the dorm.

Trace was pulling up in his ‘69 black Camaro when I pushed the doors open. I hopped inside the car before he had the chance to get out.

“Happy to see me?” He grinned.

“I’m always happy to see you,” I leaned over and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enthusiastic about plans for tonight. I completely forgot today was Valentine’s Day,” I admitted reluctantly.

“I figured,” he smiled, his eyes a light and playful green. “You’ve been so busy with school.”

“Hopefully, it’ll slow down soon,” I took a deep breath, still ashamed that I had forgotten my first Valentine’s with my boyfriend. “I don’t know if my brain can absorb any more information.”

Trace frowned and lightly squeezed my thigh. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I shrugged. “It’s school, it’s supposed to challenge you.”

“I don’t like seeing you so stressed,” Trace replied, looking left and right, as he backed out of the parking space.

“Everything will slow down soon,” I said, more for my benefit than his. “So,” I rubbed my palms on my jeans, “where are we headed?”

“Well,” Trace winced, eyes on the road, “I know you like simple, and aren’t into the whole, extravagant lifestyle, so…” He paused. “I opted to make you dinner at my place. I thought you’d enjoy that more than going out.”

I smiled, my first genuine smile in days. “You are amazing. That’s perfect.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I was kind of worried you’d be offended.”

“Not at all,” my smile widened. “This is more special than getting dressed up and going to some uppity restaurant.”

He reached for my hand and entwined our fingers together. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

I snorted. “You didn’t.”

“I beg to differ,” he grinned.

“Mmm,” I moaned, as Trace opened the door to his apartment, and the smell of a home cooked meal hit my nose. Garlic and rosemary were the most prominent scents and I inhaled them greedily, my stomach rumbling. “It smells delicious, Trace.”

He closed and locked the door behind us. “I hope it tastes as good,” he led me into the small kitchen. “I made homemade garlic mashed potatoes, rolls, and asparagus. All I have left to do is grill the steak,” he pulled out marinating steaks from the refrigerator as he spoke.

Tears pricked my eyes. This was the sweetest, most romantic thing, ever. I was sure of it.

“This is great,” I murmured, at a loss for anything else to say.

“Are you sure?” He seemed hesitant. “We can still go out…if you want.” He nervously scratched the back of his head.

“No,” I shook my head. “This,
you
, it’s perfect.” I bit down on my lip to hold back the floodgate of emotions that was about to spill forth.

“Are you going to cry?” He raised a brow.

“No,” I squeaked.

“You totally are,” he wrapped his arms around me and cradled me against his chest. “I didn’t want to make you cry, baby.”

“I’m sorry, I’m being such a girl,” I inhaled his masculine scent. “They’re happy tears, I promise. This is the sweetest thing ever,” my words were muffled by my face buried in his shirt.

“Happy tears or sad tears, I didn’t mean for you to cry,” he combed his fingers through my hair.

I pulled away from his embrace and wiped the dampness off my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I’m not normally so emotional but with all the stress I’ve had this is…this is wonderful,” I pointed to the various items he had cooked.

He kissed the top of my head, his fingers grazing my hip. “Why don’t you go sit down and relax while I grill these steaks?”

“Are you sure? I can help-”

He silenced me with a kiss. “No, Olivia. Relax. Let me take care of you,” he rubbed his fingers lightly up my side and I shivered. The tone of his voice held the promise of being taken care of in
many
ways.

“Okay,” I agreed.

Reluctantly, I sat on the couch, feeling like a useless blob.

A minute later, Trace brought me a glass of ice water. He observed my stiff posture and chuckled. “It doesn’t look like you’re relaxing.”

“I feel like I should be doing something,” I mumbled. I
hated
being unproductive.

“Nuh huh,” he shook his head and sat the glass of water on the makeshift crate coffee table. “No helping, only relaxing. Unless you want to get naked?” He suggested. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

“I’m not getting naked,” I rolled my eyes.

“Too bad,” he shrugged with a grin. His eyes were a light playful green.

I squealed when he picked up my legs and lifted them onto the couch. He yanked my heels off and dropped them on the floor. He grabbed a flannel blanket off the back of the couch, and draped it over my body. A pillow was already cushioned under my head.

He gazed down at me, appraising his handy work. “
This
is relaxing,” he smiled. “Now stay, Fido,” he chortled as he turned to head back into the kitchen.

“Ha, ha, ha,” I faked. “You’re so funny.”

“I am funny,” he turned back around and grinned cockily, “and smart, and handy, and insanely good looking,” he winked.

“Conceited much?” I joked with a raised brow.

“No, baby, just confident,” he chuckled and stepped into the kitchen. “I’ll be right back,” he called, opening the door. “The grill’s downstairs by the garage. Sometimes, the guys grill hotdogs for lunch.”

“Alright,” I sighed. “I’ll be here,” I pointed to the couch, “relaxing.”

“That’s my girl,” his laugh carried inside the apartment as the door closed behind him.

A few minutes later, he returned, a gust of cold air blowing into the apartment behind him.

He rubbed his hands together. “It’s fucking cold out there,” he shivered. “I swear, the temperature is dropping by the second.”

I appraised his lightweight shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. “Maybe, like a normal person, you should wear a coat,” I suggested with a smirk.

“It wasn’t that cold earlier!” He defended.

“It’s February, Trace,” I rolled my eyes, “it’s cold.”

“I can’t wait for spring,” he grumbled, making his way to the couch. He lifted my legs and sat down, placing them in his lap. “It’ll be at least thirty minutes on the steaks.”

“Ah, yes, spring. Rainstorms and allergies galore, that’s
so
much better than the cold,” I laughed.

He picked up my right foot and began to massage the inner sole. My eyes fluttered closed, and a long, drawn out moan, escaped my lips.

“That feels so good,” I murmured, “but it’s going to make me sleepy.”

“Then go to sleep,” he replied softly. “I’ll let you nap. Those dark circles under your eyes tell me you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Too much homework,” I grumbled, “and not enough hours in the day.”

“You shouldn’t stay up all night to get your work done,” his thumb pressed into a tender spot on my foot.

“I don’t stay up
all
night,” I mumbled.
Only until one or two…okay, sometimes, three, in the morning.

Trace snorted, not buying it, but didn’t say anything.

He continued to massage my feet, and somewhere along the way, I fell asleep.

I woke up, blinking rapidly, to clear my vision.

Where was—

Oh, crap!

I sat straight up, looking wildly around me.

Holy crap, I fell asleep on Valentine’s Day while my sweet, thoughtful, boyfriend made me a romantic dinner.

Award for worst girlfriend
ever
goes to—insert drumroll—Olivia Owens.

I pushed the blanket off of my body, and stood, looking around for Trace.

At that moment, the door to the apartment opened, and Trace strode inside, with two steaming steaks on a plate.

Oh, thank goodness. I didn’t sleep
that
long.

“Hey,” he smiled, “you’re up.”

“Yeah,” I smoothed my fingers through my hair. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

He shrugged, and put the plate down on the counter.

“You needed your sleep. I’m glad you were able to get a nap,” he started fixing the food onto plates.

“Still,” I mumbled, “it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s just a day, Olivia,” he smiled. “It’s not a big deal, I swear.” He put a hand to his chest.

I took a deep breath and decided to drop the subject.

“Can I help?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he grinned and pointed to the small table behind the couch, “you can park your sexy ass in one of those chairs. That would be helpful.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, and pulled out one of the chairs, dropping into the seat dramatically, “Here I am, being helpful.”

He bent and peered at me underneath the cabinets. He faked a gasp. “Look at you, doing as you’re told, I might have to give you a sticker.”

“I like stickers,” I laughed.

“Then I’ll make sure you have all the damn stickers in the world,” he chuckled.

“Just the unicorn ones,” I joked.

“Glitter colored unicorns?” He asked.

“Of course,” I feigned annoyance, “and they have to have pink manes.”

Plates clattered in the kitchen. “This is the weirdest conversation ever,” he snorted.

“Regardless,” I propped my head on my hands as he rounded the corner with our food, “I still want the sticker you promised.”

“That can be arranged,” he grinned as he set the plates down. He went back to the kitchen to grab utensils and our drinks.

“I could’ve helped you, you know,” I gazed up at him as I cut into my steak.

“I know,” he smiled, “but I wanted to do this by myself.”

I took a bite of the melt-in-your-mouth steak. “Is that the case, or were you afraid I’d ruin something?”

“No comment,” he chuckled. “Is the steak good?”

“It’s delicious,” I answered honestly.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he mused.

“About what?” I swallowed a bite of the garlic-mashed potatoes.

“One of things on your list,” he tapped his fingers against the wooden table and brought his beer to his lips with his free hand.

“Which one?” I asked and the nerves that usually accompanied the mentioning of my list were absent.

“When’s your spring break?” He asked to avoid my question.

“March seventh,” I answered.

“Hmmm,” he hummed.

“Care to elaborate,” I persisted.

He leaned forward and our eyes connected. “On your list, you said you wanted to see the ocean,” he stated.

“Yeah,” I replied, even though it hadn’t been a question.

“I think we, and by we, I mean you, me, Avery, and Luca, should go to the beach over your spring break. It’ll be cold in March and you won’t want to get in the ocean, but at least you’ll get to see it.”