Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (58 page)

Trace sighed, rubbing his hand over his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, I guess that is a good thing … I still think it’s completely fucked up that he took the easy way out.”

Shortly after I was released from the hospital, things were moving along with Aaron’s trial, when he found out that he might be stuck behind bars for most of his life, he found a way to end it. The police officers found him hanging in his holding cell by the sheet from his bed.

When I first found out … it didn’t seem real. I felt like it was some kind of joke. I didn’t feel like it should have been possible for him to commit suicide. That made me angry for quite a while. While I suffered with recovering from what he did to me, Aaron was dead and free from suffering for his actions.

“Can we stop talking about this?” I pleaded, looking up at Trace through my lashes. “Today is my mom’s wedding day and the last thing I want to be thinking about is that—that—monster.”

Trace swallowed, his eyes sad. He reached for my hand, placing a tender kiss on it. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s okay,” I forced a smile, but my words were weak.

While Trace’s way of coping was to talk about what happened to me, I preferred to pretend it never happened.

“What are you two doing sitting over here looking so sad?” Avery asked, plopping into the seat beside me and kicking off her high heels. “Trouble in paradise?”

“No!” Trace and I both exclaimed.

“Ugh,” Avery grumbled, “I
wish
you two weren’t so perfect together. You make relationships look so easy.”

For the past two years, Avery and Luca, who happened to be Trace’s best friend, had been in an off-and-on relationship. I really wished they’d get their crap figured out and get together permanently. They were perfect for each other. Things had gone well for them for a while and then things went sour. Avery would never tell me what happened which led me to believe
she
was the one with the problem. I asked Trace if he knew what happened, but he told me that guys don’t talk about that kind of stuff. Whatever.

“That’s because relationships are easy when you love the other person and you communicate,” Trace eyed Avery.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs and massaging the sole of her foot. “That’s so not true.”

I shook my head at her.

I sat up straight and reached for Trace’s hand. I wasn’t going to let Aaron or Avery make me sad today.

“Want to dance again?” I asked him.

“Sure,” he grinned crookedly. “Any excuse to have you in my arms is a good one.”

Avery made a choking sound. “I think I threw up in my mouth. That was way too sweet for me.”

“And that’s why you’re single right now,” I whispered in her ear as I passed by her on our way back onto the dance floor.

Putting our previous conversation behind us I smiled up at him as I crossed my arms behind his neck. “You look really good in this suit.” He wore a light grey suit, with a button down pale blue shirt, a thin black belt, and a navy tie.

“Babe, I look good in anything and nothing at all,” he chuckled.

“Even after two years, you’re still as cocky as ever,” I smiled.

“
Confident
, not cocky. There’s a difference,” he laughed, his eyes light and playful.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’ve told me that before.”

“That’s because it’s true,” he smiled down at me.

After dancing to a few more songs, everyone was cleared off the dance floor for dinner and cake.

I sat at the lone rectangular table beside my mom. Thank God Trace was on my other side. Nick was to my mom’s left with his best man, his brother Ben, beside him. Ben and I were both expected to give speeches … I was pretty sure I’d throw up before I could give mine. Public speaking was
not
my forte.

“Babe … babe …
babe
,” Trace wrenched his hand from mine under the table.

“What?” I glanced over at him.

“You cut off my circulation, I think my hand is asleep,” he groaned, waving his hand in the air.

“Sorry,” I bowed my head, eyeing the white tablecloth. “I’m nervous.”

Hearing my words, my mom turned towards me. “Honey, I told you that I don’t expect you to give a speech. Don’t worry about it, sweetie.”

“Mom, it’s my job as your maid of honor to give a speech, so that’s what I’m going to do,” I steeled my shoulders.

“You always were a stubborn child,” she chuckled, fingering a loose curl beside her cheek.

Trace leaned around me so he could see my mom and squeezed my knee. “She’s a spitfire.”

“You’ve got that right,” she huffed.

“Um, I’m sitting
right here
,” I pointed to myself. “You realize that I
can
hear you?”

“You mean …” Trace paused. “… you have ears? That’s shocking.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Wanna sleep on the couch tonight?”

“Come on,” he squeezed my knee, “I’m no good to you on the couch.”

I blushed. Sometimes, I couldn’t believe the things he said, especially when my mom was right beside me. Ugh.

“You’re blushing,” he poked my cheek.

“And you’re about two seconds away from losing your hand,” I snapped.

He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Is it that time of the month or something? ‘Cause you’re super grumpy today.”

“I’m stressed,” I replied, wiggling in my seat. I had been worried about doing something stupid during the ceremony and now I was worried about my speech … that I hadn’t even written.

The stress of writing it had been too much, so I hoped I could come up with something decent off the top of my head.

If not, I was screwed.

“Allow me to …” he whispered huskily, “relive some of that stress.” His finger trailed up my thigh, higher and higher.

My eyes fluttered closed, but before I lost all sense I smacked his hand away. “Not here,” I hissed.

He sat back and smirked. “Later then. I’m sure I can locate a closet or something.”

“We’re outside,” I stated. “No closets.”

“A tree will work,” he waggled his eyebrows.

“You’re impossible,” I shook my head, turning to my mom, praying that she didn’t hear us. Luckily, she was engrossed in conversation with Nick and Ben.

Our food was brought out, and while it looked delicious, I was too nervous to eat. I merely pushed it around the plate with my fork. It was like there was a clock in my head and I could hear it ticking down the seconds until I made a fool of myself.

When the food was cleared away Ben stood to give his speech, sending my stomach plummeting out of my body.

Everyone listened intently to his speech but I didn’t hear a single word. It was like my ears decided to stop working.

When he sat down, I knew my time was finally up.

I stood shakily, and Trace reached up, putting a supportive hand on my lower back. He was probably afraid I was about to fall.

I swallowed, turning away from the crowd and facing my mom and Nick. After all, what I was about to say was for them and no one else.

Clearing my throat, my fingers wiggled restlessly against my side.

“First, I think it’s necessary for me to say that I am so extremely happy for the both of you. Mom, you deserve to love and be loved, and I’m glad you’ve found someone that loves you completely. Nick,” I said his name shakily, and his eyes met mine, “I truly mean it, when I say, there’s no one else I’d rather have seen my mom marry. The love you feel for her is palpable. I’m honored to have you become a part of our family and I’m excited …” I paused, “to see you create your own family together.” I smiled significantly at my mother’s small bulge. Nick laid his hand protectively over her stomach.

I did a small curtsy and took my seat.

Wait … I curtsied?!

Trace snickered beside me.

Oh, God.

Before I could dwell on my embarrassing curtsy, Nick reached for my hand. “Our family.”

“Huh?” I looked at him questioningly.

“You said, and I quote, ‘create your own family together,’ but you’re a part of this family, Olivia. Don’t ever think you’re not,” he eyed me.

I smiled at him and my mom. “My bad,
our
family,” I enunciated the word.

“That’s better,” Nick grinned, his dimple popping out on his cheek. “Now that that’s cleared up,” he turned to my mom, “let’s dance the night away.”

“Ugh, my feet are killing me,” I groaned, kicking off my heels, and reaching for the zipper on my bride’s maid dress. It pooled on the floor beside the door and I breathed a sigh of relief to finally be out of that dress.

The apartment was dark and our black lab, Ace, scurried forward. His nails clacked against the floors.

“Hey buddy,” I petted his head as I passed by him on the way to the bedroom.

Trace came into the bedroom behind me carrying the fluffy lavender dress. “I didn’t want Ace to mess it up,” he explained.

I looked over at Ace, who’d jumped up on the bed, and then back at Trace. “You know Ace would never do that. He’s a good boy.”

Trace chuckled, hanging the dress over the top of the open closet door. “You never know.”

I removed my bra and pulled on a sleep shirt and sleep shorts. I was so exhausted that I was sure I’d be asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

I pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. Ace lay down beside me with his head on my stomach. I loved that dog so much.

Trace stripped down to his boxers and got in bed. We were quiet, listening to the symphony of our breaths.

I rolled to my side, towards him, and he put his arm around me, pulling me close. My ear rested over his heart and the beat calmed me. I felt his lips press tenderly against the back of my head, right over the scar that my hair kept hidden.

My eyes shut.

Even two years later, the memories of that day still haunted me. Sometimes, I closed my eyes and it was like Aaron was hovering over me once more with his fist raised. On those nights, Trace comforted me, sometimes staying up until the wee hours of the morning. I don’t know how he didn’t get tired of it … I think, maybe because of what he went through with his dad, that he understood it was going to take me a long time to get over it. It was easy for others who’d never been through something traumatic to judge me. They thought I should magically be over what happened. But that’s not how it works. Healing takes time … a long time. It takes patience. It takes love. Thankfully, Trace had all the love and patience anyone could ever need.

“I love you,” he whispered, believing I was asleep.

I smiled. I knew he did. He didn’t have to tell me, but it was nice to hear.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Bang.

Knock.

With a groan, I sat up. What the heck was going on? It had to be the middle of the night.

I climbed from the bed to investigate the strange sound. I couldn’t decide if it was someone knocking on the apartment door or something else. The noise was strange …

Once I was out of the bedroom, it was easy to deduce that the noise was, indeed, someone at the door. But they definitely weren’t knocking on it with their fist. It sounded more like they were using their whole body … or head …

Scared to go to the door—because let’s face it, I wasn’t exactly the strongest person on the planet—I went to wake up Trace.

“Trace,” I pushed his shoulder, trying to rouse him from sleep. “Trace,” I shook him a bit harder.

“Huh?” His eyes cracked open a bit, just a thin slit of green showing through.

“There’s someone at the door,” I hissed.

“What time is it?” He rubbed his eyes, yawning.

“Two,” I muttered, looking at the clock beside the bed. “I don’t know who it is and I’m scared to open the door,” I admitted reluctantly, playing with the ends of my hair.

He sat up and rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of jeans, which he left unbuttoned. “I’ll check it out,” he assured me, kissing the end of my nose.

I tiptoed behind him and out of the bedroom. He undid the deadbolt and slowly opened the door.

Whoever was standing there fell into his arms.

“Avery?” I gasped, taking in the vibrant red hair.