Page 33 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

“Hungry?” He asked, opening the passenger car door for me.

“Starving,” I admitted just as my stomach let out a very unladylike growl.

He laughed at the sound.

He entered something into his phone and a minute later it was directing us to a restaurant.

We pulled up in front of a place with a large lit up sign in blue letters that declared it as Primanti Brothers.

“Have you been here before?” I asked him as I got out of the car. I knew Trace and his family used to travel a lot, especially when his dad was still alive.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You’re about to feast upon a heart attack on bread.”

“I’m a bit afraid now,” I eyed him apprehensively.

“Don’t worry, it’s delicious and you’ll love it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I laughed. I glanced down at my new shirt and then at his. “People are going to think we’re so weird.”

“Weird is beautiful,” he kissed my cheek.

“You have such a way with words,” I poked his side as he held the door open for me.

“I once won a poetry contest,” he smirked, adjusting his glasses as we stepped into the dim restaurant.

“Sure you did,” I laughed in disbelief as we picked a table. I grabbed one of the menus off the table and began to flick through it. “Wait, they put fries and coleslaw on the sandwich, not on the side?”

Trace nodded, tapping his fingers against the wood tabletop as he perused the menu.

I studied a picture of one of the sandwiches, my mouth dropping open in disbelief. How the hell were you supposed to take a bite of that monster? It was huge!

Trace slammed his hand down on the menu, blocking my view of the picture.

“Don’t look at it,” he smiled, “you’ll get overwhelmed and it’s not like you have to eat it all.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat one bite.”

“Trust me,” his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, “it’s delicious. Want me to order for you?”

“Sure,” I shrugged as he slid my menu away. Trace had known me long enough to know what I liked and didn’t like.

A waitress came and he placed our order.

Once she had walked away, I asked, “What are we doing next? Are we staying here a bit longer or heading somewhere else?”

“So many questions,” he chuckled, spinning the peppershaker along the tabletop. “I thought maybe we’d head towards Philadelphia. I’m a big history dork,” he winked, “it probably comes from living where there’s so many Civil War battlefields and museums. Anyway,” he crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair, “I’ve never been to Philadelphia and I’ve always wanted to see the Liberty Bell and go to the museums in the area.”

“Sounds good to me,” I shrugged. “I’m down for anything.”

He grinned widely and I knew I was in trouble.

“I’m glad you said that,” he smirked.

“As long as it’s not something that might possibly get me killed,” I warned him. “Or arrested.”

“Done,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “You know,” he leaned towards me, “I should probably be offended that you think I might possibly subject you to something dangerous. You’re the one that made me get in a hot air balloon that one time.”

“You surprised me,” I argued. “You didn’t have to do it.”

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