Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia #2) (5 page)

Trace’s apartment was fairly close to the University, but it took longer than usual to get there because of all the people trying to get into the school for graduation.

My phone rang and I pulled it out of the cup holder where I’d put it earlier.

“Hey mom,” I answered.

“Where are you? Are you at the school? Nick and I are in the parking lot.”

“We’re almost there. Stuck in traffic,” I frowned, craning my neck to see how much further we had to crawl before we could turn into the parking lot. “It’ll probably take us another five minutes. I have a parking pass though. Wanna meet us at the student parking lot and we can all walk over together?”

“Sounds good,” she replied and the line went dead.

We eventually made it into the parking lot and found a spot to park the car. Thank God I wasn’t one of those girls that took forever to get ready, otherwise I probably would’ve missed my own graduation. It was set to start in thirty minutes. Knowing Avery, she’d rush in at the last possible second.

Trace held my hand as we walked towards my mom and Nick, who were standing beneath the shade of one the large trees dotting the campus. I had unzipped my gown and it flowed behind me. A slight breeze picked up and the air felt amazing against my heated skin. It had to be close to one hundred degrees outside and I was already nervous, therefore I was turning into an unattractive sweaty mess…and graduation hadn’t even started yet.

A flash went off and I glared at my mom as we joined them.

“Mom!” I whined. “At least give me a little warning.”

She laughed. “Liv, I learned a long time ago that if I warned you I was taking your picture, you ducked and ran.”

“That’s because I hate having my picture taken,” I defended, fighting a smile.

“You better get over that phobia real quick,” Trace warned.

“Why?” The word had barely left my lips before he was pulling me against him and holding his phone out, snapping a picture.

He let me go and looked down at the phone. “Oh, that’s definitely a keeper.”

I stood on my tiptoes and peered around him to see the picture. “I look like a serial killer!” Trace looked amazing in the picture, of course, while I was cross-eyed and the look on my face screamed crazy person.

“You look cute,” he chuckled.

“Oh please,” I shook my head.

“Well, well, well,” Avery sing-songed sauntering up to us, “if it isn’t the old married couple,” she poked my side, “and the new married couple.” She smirked at her brother and waved to my mom.

“Glad to see that you’re back to your usual self,” Trace laughed.

Avery frowned, remembering the other night.

“How are you feeling?” I asked her.

“Never better,” she replied too quickly. Before I could comment, she grabbed my hand and began tugging me away. “We need to go get lined up. Like, now.”

I waved over my shoulder to my mom, Nick, and Trace. “I’ll see you guys in a bit,” I called.

Once we were away from them I wrenched myself from Avery’s grasp.

“What the heck is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” she toed the ground with the pointed end of her heel.

“I’m your best friend, you know you can tell me anything, right?” I questioned, looking at her sadly.

“I know…” She paused. “There are just some things that it’s hard for me to talk about with anyone. It’s nothing against you, Livie.” She looked up at the sky and let out a shuddering breath. “There are things about me that
no one
knows.”

“You can tell me, Avery,” I reached for her hand. “I would never tell anyone.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” her green eyes were full of tears she wouldn’t dare let fall, “but I
can’t
talk about it. Okay?”

Reluctantly I nodded in agreement.

“Thank you,” she reached out and pulled me into a hug. “Now,” she smiled, “we really do have to get lined up.”

I held my diploma proudly in my hands and smiled widely as my mom took picture after picture. If she didn’t quit soon, my face was going to be stuck this way permanently. My cheeks were already tired from all this smiling.

Trace held me close to his side and let her snap as many pictures as she wanted. Traitor. Wasn’t he supposed to be on my side?

“Warren, Ellie, Lily, Trent,” she called over the rest of Trace’s family, “I want to get one of you all together.”

After much directing from my mom, she finally got us lined up the way she wanted.

“Okay…are you ready? One, two, three—”

On three, Trent leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“Trent!” Trace scolded his younger brother.

My mom laughed, glancing down at the display on her camera. “Oh, I’m framing this one.”

I groaned. Parents just loved to embarrass their kids.

“Let me see it,” I stepped forward and reached out for the camera. “Oh gosh,” I laughed. Warren, Ellie, and Lily were smiling happily, but my eyes were wide and my mouth was open in shock as Trent’s lips pressed against my cheek. Trace was glaring daggers at his younger brother. “That is frame worthy,” I agreed.

She took the camera from me and instructed us to line up again. This time, she put Trace on one side of me and Warren on the other. Smart lady. Trent was trouble.

“Hey sweet pea,” Warren whispered.

“I’ve missed you, Gramps,” I said before smiling per my mother’s command. At first, I had thought it would be awkward calling Warren, Gramps. After all, he was Trace’s grandpa, not mine. But now, I couldn’t call him anything else.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said in his gruff voice. Coughing, he added, “Tell that grandson of mine he needs to let you out of the house more often.”

“I heard that, Gramps,” Trace chuckled.

“What? It’s true,” Gramps stifled yet another cough with his hand.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“I’m fine, sweetie. When you’re as old as me your lungs don’t work as well as they used to.”

I glanced at him skeptically.

After she’d taken over a hundred pictures of Trace’s family and me, she waved Avery over.

Avery and I posed for a few pictures and then she relinquished the camera to Trace.

“I want some of Liv and me, and then a few with Nick as well,” my mom told him.

“You got it,” Trace nodded, holding up the camera. “Smile, Olivia.”

I plastered yet another smile on my face, draping my arm over my mom’s shoulder.

After about ten more pictures, she finally said she had enough. I figured her memory card was full.

“Are we all going to get dinner?” I asked. “What’s the plan?” My stomach began to rumble at the thought of food.

“Actually,” Trace stepped forward, “I have something planned…for just the two of us.”

“Oh,” I shook my head. “I assumed—”

“We’ll see you two later,” my mom smiled, hugging me. With that, her and Nick disappeared. Avery had already left and Trace’s family was slowly backing away.

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he smirked, his green eyes sparkling, and giving away the fact that there was
something
.

“Uh huh.”

“Come on, we need to go home and change first. Slacks and a button down are so not my thing,” he plucked at the tight shirt.

“Maybe if they came in plaid you’d like them better,” I joked.

“I’d definitely like them better then,” he chuckled, reaching for my hand.

We made the trek back to his car, trying to avoid the other families still dotted around campus chatting and taking pictures.

“So,” I started, “are you going to let me in on this
plan
of yours?”

“Not a chance,” he winked.

“Ugh,” I groaned. “Not even a hint?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Will I like it?”

“I hope so,” he chuckled. “Otherwise…well…”

“Well what?”

“I can’t say,” he opened the passenger car door for me.

I placed my diploma and cap in my lap as I buckled the seatbelt.

As soon as Trace was in the car I asked, “Is this plan of yours going to embarrass the crap out of me?”

“I hope not,” he laughed, “but you are easily embarrassed.”

Once at the apartment I changed into jean shorts, a tank top, and a purple plaid shirt I’d recently bought for myself because I knew Trace would like it. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows and tried to make my hair look halfway decent.

“I approve,” Trace said from behind me.

Turning, I laughed. “I thought you would,” I plucked at the bottom of my shirt.

“I still think you look better in my shirts though,” he winked, pulling on a white wife-beater. He’d switched from slacks to a pair of ratty jeans. “Ready?”

I nodded, slipping on a pair of Converse.

He grabbed a cooler, adding drinks and sandwiches he’d made earlier. I’d noticed him making them this morning but I’d been too busy worrying about graduation to ask him about them. He slung the cooler strap over his shoulder, grabbed a soft blanket from the closet, and then picked up his guitar case.

I raised a brow in question.

“Still not telling,” he smirked.

“Of course not,” I sighed, holding my hand out to take the blanket from him and open the door.

He jogged down the steps while I locked the apartment door.

“Let’s go in the Camaro,” he called.

“Sure,” I shrugged. I loved Trace’s classic ’69 Camaro. It may have been old, but it was extremely well taken care of.

I put the blanket on the back seat, along with his guitar case and the cooler.

I paid careful attention to the direction he was heading, hoping it would give me some kind of clue as to our destination.

“Are we heading back to the University?” I asked after a minute.

“No,” he chuckled, “but close.”

“Tell me,” I pleaded.

“Not happening, woman. Patience,” he rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw.

“Wait…are we going to the park?”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” He grinned.

He pulled into the gravel parking lot a few minutes later. We gathered our stuff, and he took my hand, leading me in the direction he wanted to go.

A huge smile spread across my face when I spotted the picnic table we’d sat on more than two years ago when I told him about my Live List. It had been hard for me to tell him about it, but even then I’d known I could trust Trace.

He didn’t stop at the table like I thought he was going to.

Instead, he found a shady spot under a nearby tree. He dropped the cooler on the ground and gently laid his guitar down as well. He took the blanket from my hands and spread it on the ground.

“Sit,” he commanded, pointing.

“Okay, bossy pants,” I laughed, but did as he said.

He dropped down beside me and opened the cooler. He handed me a bottle of sweet tea and a packet of sugar, “Just in case,” he chuckled.

He pulled out a bottle of water for himself and got out the sandwiches.

“So, this is your special plan?” I asked, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a huge bite. Not very ladylike, but I was starving, so screw manners.

“Oh, how you doubt me. The specialness hasn’t even begun yet,” he grinned mischievously. Uh oh.

“If you’re not trying to woo me with your mad sandwich making skills, what are you up to?” I questioned, finishing my sandwich. I hoped he had another hiding in there. I was still hungry.

Sure enough, he tossed me a second sandwich.

“I love you,” I leaned over and kissed his cheek before starting my second sandwich.

He chuckled. “Do you love me or my sandwiches? Because right about now I’m feeling a little jealous of the turkey sandwich.” I blushed, suddenly not wanting to finish it. Only Trace could make eating a sandwich sound sexual. “I do make a pretty good sandwich, which shouldn’t surprise you, because I’m awesome at everything I do.”

I sighed. “Sometimes, I think you talk just because you love the sound of your own voice.”

He bumped my shoulder with his. “My voice is amazing. I can’t help it if I think everyone should be gifted with listening to the sound of it.”

I shook my head, but couldn’t help laughing.

I finished eating and put my trash in the cooler.

We lay back on the blanket, looking up at the blue sky through the tree branches. I curled against his side, resting my head on his shoulder.

“This is nice,” I murmured.

“It gets better,” he whispered, turning his head towards me. His lips were so close that I couldn’t resist closing the distance and kissing him. When I moved back, his eyes were closed, and there was a small smile on his lips.

“What was that for?” He asked, slowly opening his eyes.

“Because I can,” I answered.

He rolled over so he was on top of me, holding his weight above me in a push-up position. “And why can you?”

“Because you’re mine,” I murmured.

“And you’re mine,” he flexed his arms and lowered himself, pressing his lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and an embarrassing breathy gasp escaped from me. He nipped my lower lip lightly with his teeth and my fingers tangled in his hair. He pulled away, running his nose along my collarbone and leaving a trail of small kisses.

He gazed down at me with lust filled green eyes and my whole body responded to that look. My heart beat faster, my breath faltered, and my body arched up, desperate to meet and connect with his.