Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia #2) (4 page)

I was tempted to try and pry the information out of Avery, but since I figured Trace was listening closely, I decided not too. It wasn’t worth it.

I opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a washcloth. I wet it and added some mango scented body wash.

“Here,” I handed it to her. “I’m not scrubbing you down but you really need to get the dirt off of you.”

“Some best friend you are,” she took the cloth from me. Her eyes were looking a little less glazed and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The door opened a crack again and Trace’s tan arm poked through. In his hand was a loose gray t-shirt.

“I thought this would be more comfortable than her dress,” he mumbled.

I stood and took it from him.

“Thanks,” I said as he closed the door once more.

“I’m so sleepy,” Avery muttered. “And lonely. I’m really lonely, Livie.”

I sat on the bathroom floor and eyed her. “Why are you lonely?”

I drew my legs up and rested my arms on my knees as I waited for her answer.

“I miss Luca,” she leaned back in the tub, staring at the ceiling.

“Then why don’t you tell him that?”

“Because, I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve anyone.”

“Avery, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Of course you deserve him.” In my opinion, Avery and Luca were perfect for each other. He was the first guy that ever seemed to be able to handle her. Our freshman year of college, she’d had a different guy in her bed every night—the library had been my best friend at that time.

“No, I don’t,” she bit down on her lip and—oh my gosh, were those tears in her eyes? Avery never cried. “I’m ruined.”

I had never heard her say anything like that before. Maybe all the alcohol in her system was giving her loose lips.

“You’re not ruined, Avery,” I shook my head. “You’re definitely not normal,” I laughed, “but I wouldn’t consider you ‘ruined.’”

“You’re too nice to be my friend,” she frowned.

I stood and grabbed a fluffy towel. “You look like you’re clean, and I’m exhausted. Let’s get you dry and in bed.”

She reached under the water and pulled the drain plug. I had to help her out of the bathtub since her legs were on the shaky side.

I dried her with the towel and helped her into Trace’s t-shirt, before brushing out her red hair.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re the bestest friend of all the bestest friends in the world.”

“That’s a pretty big compliment,” I laughed, opening the door.

Trace sat up and I laughed at his makeshift bed on the couch. Ace was asleep on the floor beside him. “Need help?”

“I think I’ve got her,” I shuffled along with Avery clinging to my shoulders.

I got Avery into the bed, and by the time I pulled the sheet up over her, she was already snoring.

“Figures,” I snorted.

I got into bed and in no time exhaustion consumed me.

When I woke, Avery was still sound asleep.

I eased from the bed, not wanting to disturb her. I quietly closed the bedroom door behind me.

I smiled when I turned and saw Trace in the kitchen making breakfast. Between sips of coffee from his beloved Yoda mug, he was singing, and feeding Ace pieces of bacon.

“Morning, beautiful,” he ceased his one-man musical when he noticed me. “Coffee,” he handed me a steaming mug, full of sugar and cream, just the way I liked it. I was a sugar addict, but what sane female wasn’t?

I took a seat at one of the barstools that overlooked the small kitchen.

“Whatcha’ making?” I peered over the edge of the bar top to try and catch a peek.

“Pancakes from scratch, because I’m awesome like that,” he smirked, leaning a hip against the counter.

“Of course,” I laughed. “How could I forget your awesomeness?”

“Why do I feel like you’re mocking me?” He put a hand to his chest.

“Because I am,” I peered at him over the rim of my coffee mug.

“You wound me,” he chuckled, grabbing an old bottle of ketchup that contained the pancake mix.

“Really, Trace?” I raised a brow and pointed at the bottle.

“I was being resourceful,” he smirked, squirting several dollops of pancake mix onto the hot griddle. “See? It’s so much easier.”

“Do you want a round of applause?”

“Normally,” he leaned across the counter so that our faces were only inches apart, “people don’t ask. They automatically applaud my awesomeness.”

“You’re one of a kind,” I couldn’t hide my smile.

“There’s no point in being like everyone else. That’s boring.” He shrugged and stepped back. He grabbed a spatula from the drawer and flipped the pancakes.

I slid from the stool and gathered the butter and syrup. I also swiped a piece of bacon while I was at it.

“I saw that,” he laughed, pinching my side.

I danced away, but he reached out and grabbed me. He pulled me against him and proceeded to nuzzle my neck.

“Ugh,” Avery groaned, stepping out of the bedroom, “you guys are too fucking sweet.”

“Morning to you too,” I said to her, trying to pry myself out of Trace’s arms, but he was too strong. “Trace! Let me go!” I giggled.

“Fine,” he turned me around so we were face to face, and kissed me loudly before letting me go.

I stumbled and he grabbed my arm to steady me.

“My kisses always make her dizzy,” he joked to Avery.

I rolled my eyes. “He wishes.”

Avery took a seat on one of the barstools and I sat beside her. Trace placed a plate in front of each of us and since there were only two barstools, he hopped up on the counter to eat.

“You made this?” Avery asked him, pointing at her pancakes with her fork.

He nodded.

“Like, it’s not from the freezer section at Wal-Mart?”

He laughed. “I made it myself. Having a dick doesn’t mean I can’t cook.”

“I’m impressed,” Avery stared at her plate, nibbling on a piece of bacon.

“I am quite impressive,” he chuckled.

Ignoring Trace, I turned to Avery. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah…thanks for taking me in last night…I couldn’t go home and…just…thanks,” she wouldn’t meet either of our eyes.

“You know you’re always welcome here,” I told her.

“Yeah,” Trace agreed.

“I’m sorry for showing up drunk though,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay,” I shrugged.

She frowned, poking her pancakes with her fork. “No, it’s not.”

She looked so sad that I couldn’t help reaching over and giving her a hug.

“You’re much too good of a friend for me,” she mumbled.

“Avery, stop being such a Debbie Downer,” I smiled as I pulled away, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Sorry,” she frowned, staring at her still uneaten pancake.

I looked up at Trace, silently pleading with him to leave so I could talk to her.

“Huh?” He raised a brow, a piece of pancake sticking halfway out of his mouth. Most people would’ve looked stupid like that, but not Trace. He looked like a model at all times.

I looked at Avery and back at him, then nodded my head towards the door.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, hopping off the counter. “Gotcha!” He saluted me. “Come on, Ace. Potty time,” he headed towards the door.

Once he was gone, I asked, “Avery, what’s going on? Please, talk to me.”

She bit down on her lower lip, refusing to look at me. “I
can’t
.” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Livie, but I can’t talk to you about this. Not to anyone.”

I tilted my head, studying her. Whatever was going on with her ran a lot deeper than I had originally believed.

“I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything.”

“Not about this.” She shook her head back and forth rapidly. Swiftly, she stood, the barstool almost falling over from her quick movements. “Tell Trace I said thanks for breakfast.” Not meeting my eyes, she asked, “Do you have some clothes I can borrow? My dress is ruined and I don’t exactly want to wear your boyfriend’s shirt home.”

“Sure,” I said softly, slipping from the chair, and padding across to the bedroom. She followed closely behind me.

Avery was a lot curvier than I was but I managed to find a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that should fit her. “Here,” I handed it to her. “You—um—weren’t wearing a bra and we aren’t exactly the same size.” I had a decent sized chest, but Avery’s was a lot bigger. There was no way those were fitting in one of my bras.

“I’ll make do,” she smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She let out a defeated breath as I closed the door behind me. I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes. I was used to the crude, slutty, Avery I’d always known…this new sad and moody Avery was someone I didn’t even begin to understand. I didn’t know how to handle her.

The apartment door opened again and Trace poked his head inside.

“Where’s Avery?” He asked me.

“Changing,” I rubbed my hands over my face. I hadn’t even finished breakfast and I was ready to go back to bed and start this day all over again.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, coming all the way into the apartment.

Ace scampered over to me and proceeded to slather my arm in dog kisses.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I just don’t know.”

“Do I look okay?” I asked Trace, coming out of the bedroom in my black cap and gown.

He laid his guitar to the side, sticking the pick between his lips, and sat up. After I started getting better, he’d taken guitar lessons. He said music helped him to cope with everything. My way of coping had been to pretend it didn’t happen.

He was dressed nicely in a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. I may have grown to love his plaid shirts, but he cleaned up good. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked me up and down.

“What do you
want
me to say?” He asked, taking the pick from between his teeth and placing it on the table. “I feel like this is a test, and I’d really like to pass so I can be rewarded later,” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a test, Trace.”

“It’s a cap and gown, Olivia. It is what is. But,” he stood and strode towards me, “I know no one else will look as beautiful in it as you do.”

“You’re so full of crap you stink,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He threw his head back and his laugh filled the small apartment. “Oh Olivia, you never cease to amuse me,” he guided me towards the door.

“Is your family coming?” I asked, being extra cautious on the steps that led to the parking lot. While Avery had made sure I’d gotten used to wearing heels, heels plus the long gown equaled dangerous territory for me. Hopefully Trace was paying attention and could catch me before I face-planted…because that was a definite possibility. Oh, gosh! What if I fell in front of the entire class?

I took a few deep breaths. I’d done fine at the wedding, but my dress had been short so it wasn’t like it could get tangled in my shoes.

“You have really got to stop worrying,” Trace’s voice broke into my thoughts. “You’re going to get a wrinkle right there,” he swiped his thumb between my brows. “And yes, they’re all going to be there. You know Gramps wouldn’t miss this.”

I smiled. Trace’s grandpa had welcomed me into their family with open arms and I honestly loved that man like he was a blood relative of mine. Trace’s grandma, mom, and brother were amazing as well, but not quite like Gramps. Warren Wentworth was an all around special person.

I stumbled into Trace’s car. I made sure no part of the gown was sticking out of the car before shutting the door.

I smiled over at my ‘new to me’ Ford Fiesta. It was purple and a nice upgrade from my old Ford Focus. Trace had been more than willing to buy me a fancy new car, he’d thrown around names like Mercedes and Land Rover, but I wanted to buy my car by myself. I didn’t want to be dependent on Trace. I knew he meant well, but I was stubborn, and I didn’t really like being showered in lavish gifts. I wasn’t that kind of girl. Simple was my way.

I took the cap off my head and twisted it around in my hands.

“Ready?” Trace asked.

I nodded. “Mhmm.”

He chuckled and pulled out of the parking lot, waving to a humped over Pete, the owner of the garage, who was scolding one of the mechanics for something.