Page 57 of Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia 1)

He unbuckled his seatbelt, and reached into the backseat, handing me a sweatshirt. “Wear this,” he commanded.

I slipped on the sweatshirt, wondering what was going on in his head. Trace was rarely so serious.

I followed along beside him as we walked on the sidewalk.

He stopped when we reached the pavilion.

It was one of my favorite places on campus. It was beautiful with its copper top and the water surrounding it. Peaceful. Avery thought it was weird, but I often read out here, and even did my homework here on occasion. I liked being outside. Something about the outdoors always made me feel at home. I loved the smell of the freshly mowed grass and the lilies in the spring. Even on days like this, when it was cold and blustery, I still found a reason to enjoy being outside.

Trace leaned against the railing, separating the pavilion from the water.

I stared at the fountain in the middle of the manmade pond, waiting for Trace to say something.

Even though it was late, students were still milling around campus, but the pavilion was empty except for the two of us.

Trace clasped his hands together and his jaw was rigid. He turned his head towards me and I studied his handsome face like it was the last time I’d see him, which I was sure it was. I was convinced that he was about to tell me that he couldn’t help me with my list anymore and that he never wanted to see me again.

He looked so sad and serious, I knew nothing good could come from whatever he wanted to say.

“I enjoyed singing with you tonight,” he murmured, standing to his full height so he towered over me.

“I enjoyed singing with you too,” I stuttered, looking at the ground, waiting for him to shatter my heart.

He stepped forward, so his boots were in my line of vision, butted right up against my Converse.

“Olivia,” he murmured, and I shivered at the way he said my name, his voice a husky whisper.

Slowly, I looked up, and my eyes connected with his.

Every time Trace looked at me like this, I was convinced he was seeing straight through me, right to my very soul, and uncovering all of my hidden secrets.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to do ever since I met you,” his voice grew softer, but every word was like a shout to me, as he lowered his head and his mouth came closer to mine.

“What?” I asked, like an idiot, just before his lips pressed against mine.

A fire erupted inside me, a fire only Trace created, and I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, reaching up on my tiptoes to kiss him thoroughly.

His lips were soft, a direct contrast to the stubble on his cheeks rasping against my sensitive skin, and I was tempted to beg him to never stop kissing me. It felt so good.

I knew that this is what kisses were supposed to be like, magical.

I pressed my body firmly against his. Even through the thick sweatshirt I was wearing, I felt the hard ridges of his body, and I trembled.

His tongue skated against my bottom lip and my mouth opened in response.

One of his hands cupped the back of my neck while the other ventured over my shoulder, down my arm, and over my back, before settling at my waist and pressing me firmly against him.

Holy Hell.

I gasped against his mouth and he groaned in response.

My body moved against his like it was programmed to respond to everything he did to me.

He lightly nipped my bottom lip and I cried out in surprise.

That seemed to shock him, and his hands dropped from my body, his lips leaving mine.

I suddenly felt very cold.

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