Page 42 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

“If he hadn’t grabbed you, yo

u 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.

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