Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (48 page)

“Everyone deserves happiness,” I told her. “We’re only here once.”

She smiled. “I’ll see where things go with Nick, but I doubt it will go far. There’s no need to pick out bride’s maid dresses if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Okay,” I laughed. “No bride’s maid dresses.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon together before I dropped her off. I returned to my dorm to finish packing. I didn’t have much ‘stuff’ so I spent most of the time packing my clothes.

Avery returned around six in the evening and cursed. “Shit! I haven’t packed anything yet!”

I looked over at the clutter covering every surface of her side of the room. If I wasn’t in such a good mood, I would’ve never offered, but I found myself opening my mouth, and saying, “I can help you.”

I taped my last box shut.

“You can?” Her eyes widened. “You’re a life saver, Livie!”

I packed her things neatly into boxes, while Avery dumped things in them.

“You know,” I smiled at her, “you’re only making things harder on yourself, in the long run, tossing things in like that.”

“Whatever,” she shook her head, grabbing a pencil cup, and dropping it into a box.

Since I wouldn’t have to help her unpack, I shut my mouth.

“Did you tell lover boy you decided to move in?” She asked.

“Mhmm,” I nodded. “I told him yesterday after the hot air balloon ride.”

“Hot air balloon ride!” She screamed. “You went in one those! I would’ve shit my pants!”

“I’ve always wanted to do it,” I shrugged, folding a pair of her jeans, and added it to the box in front of me.

“You’re nuts!” She exclaimed, abandoning the box she was packing, to look at me. I could never get in one of those!” She shuddered. “I
hate
flying. I’d have a heart attack if I had to get in one of those tiny baskets,” she shook her head and started packing again.

“It was amazing,” I smiled fondly at the memory. “Everything looked so beautiful,” I gushed.

“You are a freak of nature, Livie,” she laughed.

“Heights don’t bother me,” I replied. “Trace didn’t like it too much,” I giggled, closing the box, and taping it shut.

“I’m Team Trace all the way,” she fist pumped the air. “Not Team Crazy Livie,” she tossed the box she had filled onto the floor. I was surprised it didn’t split open from the force.

“I’m not crazy,” I defended.

“You are,” she smiled. “No sane person would willingly get in one of those things. But I’m happy you had fun.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, filling another box.

I looked around, hoping we had made a sizable dent in packing her stuff, but it looked like we had done nothing.

I groaned. “We’re going to be up all night packing.”

She winked. “I’ll get the coffee.”

Since residence halls closed today, I loaded my car up with boxes, and drove to Trace’s apartment. I couldn’t fit everything in my small car so I knew I would have to make at least one more trip.

Trace was leaning against the outside wall of the garage, chatting with Luca, who was puffing on a cigarette.

Trace was shirtless since it was such a hot day and his perfect body was drenched in a light coating of sweat. My eyes perused over his tattoos. I loved his tattoos and how they revealed little bits of information about him. I especially loved the one over his heart that expressed how much he loved his dad.

I parked and Trace left Luca to greet me.

“I see boxes,” he grinned, nodding at the interior of my car, “I was afraid you might change your mind.”

“No,” I shook my head, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him tenderly.

“Let me help you with those,” he gently pushed me aside and lowered my driver’s seat so he could reach the boxes.

“Don’t you have to work?” I nodded towards the garage.

“Nah,” he shook his head, lifting one of the boxes out, “I asked Pete for the afternoon off.”

“Oh,” I mouthed, and reached for a box, following him up the staircase to his apartment.

He opened the door and gently placed my box on the floor. I positioned the one I held on top.

“You have to have all your stuff out of your dorm room tonight, right?” Trace asked.

“Yep,” I nodded.

“I have something we need to do, so how about I shower, and we’ll go do it, then pick up the rest of your stuff. Is that okay with you?” He questioned.

“Sounds great,” I smiled and turned to head back for another box.

Trace carried the last box in and went to take his shower. While he was doing that, I decided to get a head start on unpacking. I placed my items in neat stacks on the floor, figuring Trace would tell me where to put my stuff later.

The bathroom door squeaked open and I looked over my shoulder, watching him step out of the bathroom with a simple gray towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets clung to his hair and skin, causing me to lick my lips. I thought Trace was drool-worthy all the time, it didn’t matter what he was doing, working, making breakfast, you name it, he looked like sex on a stick while doing it. But nothing beat a naked and wet, Trace, fresh out of the shower.

He chuckled, smiling cockily at me. “If you keep looking at me like that,” he warned, “we’re not going anywhere.”

I turned away hastily.

“Suit yourself,” he crooned as he made his way to the bedroom, the scent of his woodsy soap lingering behind him.

I crushed the empty boxes and leaned them against the wall, beside the door, so that I could drop them in the dumpster later.

I turned around, and Trace was coming out of the bedroom, shrugging into one of his trusty plaid shirts.

“Ready?” He asked, flattening the collar.

“Yeah,” I picked up the crushed boxes.

We walked down the steps, to his car, and I dropped the boxes into the large blue dumpster.

“Hey there little lady,” a raspy voice said from behind the dumpster.

I squealed, jumping back, and fell over a small rock. My butt hit the ground and the air whizzed out of my throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya,” a person appeared, accompanying the voice. He was a small man, about my height, with a hooked back that made him appear even shorter. His white hair was wispy and a white goatee adorned his chin. The blue jumper he wore hung loose on his small frame. When I met his eyes, I found that they were a unique shade of gray. He smiled, showing off yellowed crooked teeth. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking to the ground and stomped it out with the toe of his boot. Wiping a greasy hand on his jumper, he held it out to me, to help me up. “I’m Pete.”

So this was Pete. I had never seen him around here. In fact, I hadn’t met most of the employees. They had usually left by the time I met Trace at the garage.

“Olivia,” I took his dirty hand to be polite, hoping I hid my cringe.

Despite his age and obvious frailty, he lifted me easily from the ground with little help on my part.

“You’re Trace’s girl,” he stated.

I nodded, wiping the back of my jeans free of dirt and gravel.

“He talks about you all the time,” Pete tapped out another cigarette. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I replied, smiling at the older man. I waved goodbye as I backed away and headed towards the car.

Trace was adjusting the volume on the stereo when I slid inside the Charger.

“What took you so long? I thought you were throwing away boxes?” He questioned, pulling onto the road.

“I ran into Pete,” I shrugged.

“Ah, I see,” Trace chuckled, changing gears in the car, “and what did you think of good ole’ Pete?”

“He’s nice,” I shrugged. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen him before now, though.”

“Pete doesn’t get around as well as he used to,” Trace explained, navigating through traffic. “He usually only comes in to make sure we’re getting our work done. He misses working on cars, it’s been hard on him, but his arthritis really affects his mobility.”

“Aww,” I frowned. “Poor Pete.”

“He’s a great guy,” Trace added. “I’ll always be indebted to him, for giving me a chance. My—uh—last name, made people reluctant to hire me,” he scratched the back of his head nervously. “They all thought I was some hotshot playboy who wasn’t serious about a job, but Pete didn’t look at me that way,” he smiled wistfully. “He took a chance on me when no one else would and even let me rent the apartment above the garage.” I saw in the fierceness of his words, how much Trace cared for Pete, and I found it endearing.

Most people looked at Trace and thought, ‘Cocky bad boy,’ at first glance. But there were so many other layers to Trace underneath his smug exterior. He cared so deeply for the ones he loved and I admired that about him. I knew Trace would go to the ends of the Earth and back to help someone he loved. I realized that I knew the
real
Trace. He could be cocky and arrogant, but at the end of the day, he was always sweet and attentive.

He turned onto a narrow road that led back to a brick building. Unfortunately, I had missed the sign.

“We have to hurry, they’ll be closing for the evening soon,” Trace explained, hurrying out of the car.

I followed after him and up to the blue door. When we stepped inside, we were greeted to the musty smell of the old building, mixed with the sounds of cats meowing and dogs barking.

“Since,” Trace grinned, “you agreed to live with me, I thought now would be the perfect time for us to add to our little family.”

Tears stung my eyes at his words.

He pushed open the swinging door. The dogs immediately jumped up and started clawing at their cages, desperate for attention. I made sure to talk lovingly to each one. I didn’t want any of the ‘puppies’ to be left out from my affections.

The last cage we came to appeared to be empty at first glance.

Slowly, a small form crept forward and a small black lab puppy peered up at us with gray eyes. He looked so sad and I noticed that he held his front left paw up slightly.

A woman came in from another door, her hair frazzled. She looked exhausted.

“That one there likes you,” she pointed to the black puppy. “He came in two days ago and we’ve had quite the struggle with him. He was found alongside the road with injuries that are obviously from being beat.”

“Aw,” my heart broke for the puppy peering up at me.

“He’s been sittin’ in that corner, wouldn’t come out. Normally the puppies go really fast around here, but nobody’s taken to him.”

I frowned, looking at the sweet black dog. His eyes peered up at me and I felt like he was begging me to take him home and love him forever, which I would.

“I want him,” I stated, not caring if Trace agreed.

“I’ll get the paperwork ready,” she smiled, pleased. “Y’all can get him out and play.”

I eagerly opened the cage and sat on the floor.

The puppy didn’t want to play though. He immediately climbed onto my lap, struggling with his long gangly legs, and collapsed with his eyes closed.

“He likes you,” Trace chuckled. “I think I have some competition now.” He squatted beside me and petted the puppy’s head. The puppy relaxed against Trace’s touch, lovingly rolling over to get his belly rubbed.

I giggled. “I think he likes
you
.”

“What’s not to like?” Trace scoffed. “I’m wonderful.” He petted the dog for a few more minutes and asked, “What should we name him?”

I bit my lip. “I was thinking Ace.”

“Ace,” Trace repeated, rolling the name around his tongue like someone sampling wine. “It’s perfect.”

Ten minutes later, the lady came to tell us everything was ready. We filled out the paperwork and Trace handed them cash for the adoption fee.

“Good luck y’all,” she called as we left.

From there, we headed straight to the local PetSmart. I carried Ace inside, clutched to my chest.

Trace grabbed a shopping cart and we made our way to the dog section. He grabbed two bags of dog food; the same one Ace had been eating at the SPCA, and added them to the cart. We picked out a heaping pile of toys, a cushion, bowls, and leash. Lastly, I picked up a braided light blue and gray collar.

We checked out and Trace got tokens for the machine that made nametags. We agreed on the silver dog bone shaped tag and Trace entered all the information in. Within a minute, the nametag was made.

“Well, Ace,” I cooed to the dog as we strolled outside, “I certainly hope we’re not forgetting anything.”

Trace laughed, pointing to the overflowing cart. “We better not be.”

Ace slept in my lap as we stopped by the dorm to pick up the last of my boxes. All of Avery’s things were gone already. Trace grabbed the two remaining boxes while I glanced around the room in nostalgia. I looked back, one last time as I closed the dorm room door, feeling as if I was closing a door on a chapter of my life.