Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (59 page)

“Mhmmmmitsme,” she slurred drunkenly.

Since she seemed to have lost the ability to move her legs, Trace picked her up, and gently laid her down on the couch.

I grabbed a bottle of water before kneeling beside her. She was completely wasted and the dress she’d worn to Nick and Nora’s wedding was ruined. It was covered in grass and mud stains, as was her body.

My eyes widened, zeroing in on something wrapped around her neck. I gasped when I realized what it was.

“Avery! Why is your underwear around your neck?” I bit my lip to hold back laughter. I mean, it wasn’t every day your best friend showed up at your place drunk with underwear around her neck.

“Huh?” She looked at me with bleary eyes and fingered the silky string of fabric around her neck. “Must have taken em’ off.”

“Obviously,” I snorted. “What were you doing?”

“I’m pretty sure it involved beer and sex in a field … by the way, don’t ever try that,” she warned Trace and me, pointing at us with a shaky finger, “it really itches.”

I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter, but quickly sobered. “Wait … who’d you have sex with?”

Last I’d heard, she and Luca weren’t together … unless they’d gotten together tonight.

“The guy I bought the beer from was getting off work and we both wanted to have some fun. I think his name was Austin. Or maybe it was John? Brad? Anyway, he wasn’t very good,” she pouted. “Hey, is that water for me?” She reached for the bottle in my hand.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” I handed it to her.

She slurped at it greedily and when the bottle was empty she let out a very undignified burp.

“I miss Luca,” she began to cry. “I keep trying to forget him, but I can’t Libby,” she slurred my name. “I lub him.” She wrapped her arms awkwardly around my shoulders and sobbed. I’m pretty sure she drooled on my neck too.

I bit my lip and looked up at Trace helplessly. I had no idea what to do with her.

“Uhm,” I patted her back. “I’m sorry?” It came out as a question.

“All I d-d-do is p-push p-p-people away,” she cried.

“That’s not true,” I tried to comfort her. “Um … Avery?”

“Yeah?” She pulled away and looked at me with shimmery green eyes. I wrinkled my nose. “I hate to tell you this, but you smell
really
bad?”

We looked at each other and neither of us could contain our laughter.

I pulled a strand of grass from her hair and glanced up at Trace, who was still standing by the couch with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Can you help me get her in the bathtub?”

“Yeah,” Avery looked up at Trace with wide eyes, “help me, Tracey-poo.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll carry her, but I’m not stripping her. You’re on your own with that part.”

“Good, I didn’t want your help for that,” I smiled at him. I stood and pointed a finger at Avery. “Don’t grope my boyfriend.”

“Not making any promises,” her giggle ended in a hiccup, “he has a nice ass.”

I rolled my eyes. Only Avery.

I pushed open the bathroom door and flicked on the light, yawning. I yanked the shower curtain open and started a bubble bath.

Trace came into the bathroom with a half-asleep Avery in his arms. “For someone that looks so little, she’s kinda heavy.”

“It’s the boobs,” Avery mumbled into his shoulder, “they must weigh fifty pounds.”

Trace chuckled and sat her on the edge of the tub.

“Thank you,” I told him, kissing his stubbled cheek.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “She’ll be more comfortable in our bed and from the looks of it, she’s going to have a killer headache in the morning. So, let’s not add a sore back to her list of ailments.”

“You’re too sweet.”

“I try,” he smiled crookedly.

“Danks Tracey,” Avery slurred, leaning her head against the tiled wall, her eyes closed.

He shook his head and closed the bathroom door behind him.

The bathtub was about halfway full of hot water and smelled of vanilla bubble bath.

“Come on,” I coaxed Avery into a sitting position instead of her slumped one. “Lift your arms.”

I helped her out of her dress and removed the underwear from around her neck. She wasn’t wearing a bra and I figured she’d probably lost it in whatever field she’d been rolling around.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I grumbled, helping my drunk and very naked friend into the water.

“That feels nice,” she murmured, a content smile lighting her face.

“You so owe me for this,” I laughed, grabbing a handful of bubbles and blowing them at her face.

She swatted them away and smirked. “I reward you with my fabulosity on a regular basis. You owe
me.
”

“Whatever,” I laughed.

“Any special plans for graduation?” She asked, her eyes twinkling, hinting that she knew something that I didn’t. Our graduation was in two days and classes had ended last week.

“No,” I shook my head. “Nothing special.”

“I know something you don’t know,” she sing-songed in a very off-key pitch. “Trace—”

“SHUT UP, AVERY!” Trace yelled from the living room. “SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL COME INTO THAT BATHROOM, AND SEE YOUR GOODS IF YOU DON’T STOP TALKING!”

Avery giggled. “Trace wants to see my goods.”

I looked between my best friend and the closed door. What the hell was going on?

“What do you know that I don’t?” I asked her.

She opened her mouth but Trace came busting into the bathroom. “She knows nothing! Nothing! Right, Avery?”

She looked up at Trace with bleary eyes. “Oh, right. It’s a surprise.”

He smacked his face with the palm of his hands. “Never again,” he grumbled under his breath. “Don’t say anything,” he pointed a finger at her and then turned to me, “and don’t you
dare
try to get it out of her.”

I couldn’t help laughing. I raised my hands in surrender. “Fine.”

He looked between the two of us. “Don’t make me find a roll—or six—of duct tape.”

Avery mimed zipping her lips and giggled.

Trace sighed and ran his fingers through his hair so that it stuck up in random directions. Shaking his head, he left the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

I was tempted to try and pry the information out of Avery, but since I figured Trace was listening closely, I decided not to. 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.