Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (68 page)

Honestly, I didn’t.

Okay, I did.

And that’s why it hurt.

“Baby, wake up. Wake up,” someone shook my shoulders. But I didn’t want to wake up. I’d been dreaming and it had been so good. “Olivia, wake up. I need to see your face. Come on. That’s my girl.”

My eyes opened to see Trace smiling down at me.

Why the heck was the jerk smiling at me when he’d left me in a rage?

I scooted away from him, my brows furrowing in anger. “Leave me alone,” I snapped, glaring at him.

“Olivia,” he whispered my name, reaching over to turn on the light. “I went to the drugstore and got some things,” he held up a plastic bag, shaking the contents.

“You just …
left
,” I seethed.

He bowed his head, his forehead wrinkling. “I’m sorry. I was angry, but not at you, never at you,” his green eyes pleaded with me for forgiveness. “That guy
hurt
you, Olivia. It made me mad and I’m sorry you had to see me like that. But I’m not sorry for protecting you.” He reached a tentative hand out to me. After a moment, I placed my hand in his. “Come here,” he coaxed.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before scooting close to him.

He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers skimming over my cheek and hovering there.

Anger flashed in his eyes again.

“You’re going to get a black eye,” he growled.

I placed my fingers just below my eye and winced. The skin was surprisingly tender. I didn’t think I smacked the floor
that
hard. I guess I was wrong.

“I fell,” I frowned, “it’s not like he hit me or anything.”

“If he hadn’t grabbed you, you wouldn’t have fallen,” he growled, the tension returning to his body.

I grabbed his forearm. “I’m fine, Trace. I promise. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, standing. He strode into the bathroom and I heard the faucet running. He returned a moment later, kneeling in front of me. He reached up, gently rubbing a wet washcloth against my face. I closed my eyes, letting him work. When I opened them, he was staring down at the pale pink smear on the white cloth with an angry look on his face.

Shaking his head, he grabbed the shopping bag and pulled out a bottle of Advil and water. He shook one into his hand and gave it to me. “Take this so you don’t get a headache.”

I felt fine, but I took it anyway to make him feel better.

Then he pulled out one of those instant cold packs and gently laid it against my eye. I hated to admit it, but it actually felt pretty good.

I put my hand overtop of his. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he growled. “If I hadn’t left, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

I rolled my eyes. “Trace, you can’t blame yourself for every bump or bruise I get. This wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was.”

I pushed his hand off my face, the cold pack falling to the bed, and cupped his cheeks in my hands as I stared into his eyes. “Why do you insist on taking the blame for everything?”

“When things are my fault, I like to accept responsibility.”

“What happened back there wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t mine, and it wasn’t even really that guy’s fault.” Trace growled at my words. “Okay, maybe it was a little bit his fault.”

“That’s better,” he forced a smile.

“But you’re not my bodyguard, Trace. You can’t be there for me all the time. I’m going to stumble and fall and have to pick myself back up sometimes. You can’t save me.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m ever going to stop trying,” he leaned in, resting his lips against mine. He didn’t really kiss me; he just held his lips there, brushing them against mine. It was the sweetest almost kiss I’d ever experienced … even if I was still mad at him.

He pressed his lips more firmly against mine before pulling away. His gaze dropped and he picked up the ice pack. “Ice your eye,” he handed it to me, “it’ll help with the swelling.”

I did as he said, crawling back under the covers. The cold from the ice pack made me shiver. He climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me. I probably should have pushed him away since he was being so weird, but I was cold, and his arms felt like heaven around me. The truth of the matter was, I wasn’t really mad at him. I understood where he was coming from. If Trace was hurt, I wanted to be there to pick up the pieces.

I felt his lips brush against the back of my neck, his stubble scratching my sensitive skin.

Time passed and I thought he’d drifted off to sleep, but then he spoke.

“I’ll always keep you safe. No matter what.”

I woke up covered in a thin sheen of sweat since Trace was plastered to my body. He had me hugged against his chest like a human-sized teddy bear. It would be cute—if I wasn’t the teddy bear.

I pushed his heavy arm off of me, sliding out of the bed, and falling on my butt. So much for trying to be stealthy. I could never be a ninja.

Luckily, Trace didn’t stir at the sound of my fall. He was sound asleep, his mouth slightly open. It was completely unfair that he was cute even when he slept. I woke up every morning looking like Medusa. Boys had it so much easier.

I picked myself up off the floor and tiptoed across the room and into the bathroom. I eased the door closed behind me and locked it.

My eyes widened when I saw my face. “Holy crap,” I frowned at my bruised eye. It looked like someone had punched me, not like I’d tried to hug the floor. I knew I’d have to hide it before Trace woke up but none of the makeup I’d packed would cover up this purple sucker.

I decided to shower first and then head across the street to where I remembered seeing a drugstore—probably the same one Trace had gone to last night.

I secured my hair into a messy bun on top of my head and dressed as quietly as possible, before snatching the room keycard off the dresser and slipping outside. Now, I had to hope he didn’t wake up while I was gone. Knowing Trace, he’d wake up and think I’d been kidnapped.

I avoided looking at anyone directly as I grabbed a bottle of liquid foundation and checked out. I knew people would think my boyfriend had hit me, and since that definitely wasn’t the case, I’d rather avoid awkward question and answer sessions.

Trace was still asleep when I came back into the room and I let out a sigh of relief. Usually, Trace didn’t sleep long after I’d gotten out of the bed. He must have been really tired.

I had just finished hiding the bruise on my face when he woke and strode into the bathroom.

“Hey,” he muttered groggily, hugging me from behind and pressing his hips against me.

“Trace,” I groaned, prying myself from his arms.

“It’s morning. I can’t help it,” he yawned. “You already showered,” he stated, taking in my wet hair and fresh clothes.

I nodded. “I wanted to get the bar smell off of me.”

He reached up and smoothed his thumb beneath my left eye. I hoped he didn’t wipe the makeup away. “I thought for sure that would bruise,” he whispered to himself.

“It didn’t,” I said a bit too quickly, backing out of the bathroom and away from him. “I’m—uh—going to get us some breakfast while you shower.”

He eyed me suspiciously. “Ooookay,” he drew out the word. “My wallet’s on the dresser, grab some cash.”

“I notice you didn’t say to grab your car keys,” I taunted with a grin.

“No one but me drives the Camaro. Ever,” his eyes were serious but he was fighting a smile. “It won’t take me long to shower. Why don’t you wait and we’ll go together?”

“I can do that,” I crossed my arms over my chest, “but there’s a McDonald’s right next door. I won’t be far, so you don’t need to worry.”

“I don’t worry—”

“Your pants just caught on fire with that lie.” I grabbed his wallet and snagged a twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Stop treating me like I’m two and you have to babysit me.”

His eyes narrowed and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips. “Oh, I know I don’t have to babysit you, trust me.”

I chose to ignore his comment. “Go shower. You smell.”

“Thanks sweetie. Love you too,” He called after me sarcastically.

It was early so there wasn’t much of a line at McDonalds. Besides, this didn’t strike me as the hot spot in town anyway. I grabbed the bag of food and drinks and walked back across to the motel. They were literally right beside each other. The smell of the greasy food was making me hungry though. The cheese fries we’d had last night hadn’t been enough to eat. If I kept eating all this cheesy grease filled food on this trip I’d end up gaining fifty pounds.

I had the keycard with me but my hands were full and I couldn’t get it out of the pocket of my jeans. I knocked on the door with my shoulder.

Trace opened it a moment later, standing there in nothing but a towel and wet water droplets sticking to his sculpted chest. I wanted to lick him.

“Whoa,” he grabbed the drink carrier that I almost dropped because I was staring at his chest. It would have been a worthy cause though. He had such a nice chest that you couldn’t keep yourself from staring at it.

“Sorry,” I stepped around him as he closed the door.

He placed the drinks on the dresser and tossed the cardboard carrier into the trashcan.

By the time I had our breakfast sandwiches laid out he’d put on a pair of boxers and loose jeans. My eyes roamed over his body, memorizing each dip and curve of his muscles, and tracing the lines of his tattoos.

“You know,” I smiled as he sat down beside me and grabbed his sausage egg and cheese biscuit, “you’ve never told me why you got a four leaf clover when I got my first tattoo.”

He swallowed, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I thought it was pretty obvious,” he shrugged, “you’re my lucky charm.”

I wasn’t sure if I should hug him or punch him for his cheesiness.

“Don’t mess with me,” I eyed him.

“I’m serious,” he crumbled up his wrapper and dropped it in the paper bag. “From the moment I met you my life had meaning again,” he looked at me seriously. “I’m not one to confess all my feelings and be gushy, but it’s true. When I met you …” He paused, his brows furrowing together. “I was finally getting over what happened to my dad and seeing the damage I’d caused to my family. But meeting you is what truly changed me. You made me
laugh
again, Olivia. That may seem like something simple,” he cupped my chin in his large hand, “but when you go years without laughing at anything … when all your thoughts and feelings are only
bad
. Laughing takes on a whole new meaning. So yes, you’re my lucky charm.”

“I-I-I don’t know what to say,” I stuttered, shaking my head. I hadn’t been expecting a deep meaningful answer from him. But I should’ve known. All of his tattoos meant something important to him.

“Don’t say anything,” he reached for my hand and entwined our fingers together. “Words aren’t always necessary.”

I swallowed thickly. “Do you ever think,” I whispered, “that we met for a reason?”

He brought our joined hands up to his heart and I could feel its steady beat. “Every single day of my life.”

I laid my head on his bare shoulder. “Before you came along, I never thought about falling in love or marrying someone,” I glanced down at my engagement ring, “but now I can’t imagine not having that.”

“I know what you mean,” he kissed the corner of my mouth. “Some things come along when you need them most, and at the time, you don’t even realize that you need them.”

“Exactly,” I whispered.

Fate worked in mysterious ways. The night I’d met Trace, I’d wanted nothing more than to get back to my dorm without being raped or murdered. When Trace had come along, I hadn’t known how much that single moment would change the rest of my life. But boy, am I glad that it did.

“Are you gonna finish that?” He pointed to my half-eaten egg McMuffin.

“No,” I handed it to him, “you can have it.”

“So, besides seeing the Liberty Bell what else do you have planned?” I asked, gathering up our stuff and putting it in our duffel bags.

“Independence Hall, maybe some museums,” he shrugged, finishing the last bite of my sandwich.

“Are we only visiting museums on this road trip?” I raised a brow. “I thought we were going to have fun, not be bored to death.”