Page 13 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

“Oh!” He exclaimed, hopping off the counter. “Gotcha!” He saluted me. “Come on, Ace. Potty time,” he headed towards the door.

Once he was gone, I asked, “Avery, what’s going on? Please, talk to me.”

She bit down on her lower lip, refusing to look at me. “I can’t.” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Livie, but I can’t talk to you about this. Not to anyone.”

I tilted my head, studying her. Whatever was going on with her ran a lot deeper than I had originally believed.

“I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything.”

“Not about this.” She shook her head back and forth rapidly. Swiftly, she stood, the barstool almost falling over from her quick movements. “Tell Trace I said thanks for breakfast.” Not meeting my eyes, she asked, “Do you have some clothes I can borrow? My dress is ruined and I don’t exactly want to wear your boyfriend’s shirt home.”

“Sure,” I said softly, slipping from the chair, and padding across to the bedroom. She followed closely behind me.

Avery was a lot curvier than I was but I managed to find a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that should fit her. “Here,” I handed it to her. “You—um—weren’t wearing a bra and we aren’t exactly the same size.” I had a decent sized chest, but Avery’s was a lot bigger. There was no way those were fitting in one of my bras.

“I’ll make do,” she smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She let out a defeated breath as I closed the door behind me. I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes. I was used to the crude, slutty, Avery I’d always known…this new sad and moody Avery was someone I didn’t even begin to understand. I didn’t know how to handle her.

The apartment door opened again and Trace poked his head inside.

“Where’s Avery?” He asked me.

“Changing,” I rubbed my hands over my face. I hadn’t even finished breakfast and I was ready to go back to bed and start this day all over again.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, coming all the way into the apartment.

Ace scampered over to me and proceeded to slather my arm in dog kisses.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I just don’t know.”

“Do I look okay?” I asked Trace, coming out of the bedroom in my black cap and gown.

He laid his guitar to the side, sticking the pick between his lips, and sat up. After I started getting better, he’d taken guitar lessons. He said music helped him to cope with everything. My way of coping had been to pretend it didn’t happen.

He was dressed nicely in a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. I may have grown to love his plaid shirts, but he cleaned up good. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked me up and down.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, taking the pick from between his teeth and placing it on the table. “I feel like this is a test, and I’d really like to pass so I can be rewarded later,” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a test, Trace.”

“It’s a cap and gown, Olivia. It is what is. But,” he stood and strode towards me, “I know no one else will look as beautiful in it as you do.”

“You’re so full of crap you stink,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He threw his head back and his laugh filled the small apartment. “Oh Olivia, you never cease to amuse me,” he guided me towards the door.

“Is your family coming?” I asked, being extra cautious on the steps that led to the parking lot. While Avery had made sure I’d gotten used to wearing heels, heels plus the long gown equaled dangerous territory for me. Hopefully Trace was paying attention and could catch me before I face-planted…because that was a definite possibility. Oh, gosh! What if I fell in front of the entire class?

I took a few deep breaths. I’d done fine at the wedding, but my dress had been short so it wasn’t like it could get tangled in my shoes.

“You have really got to stop worrying,” Trace’s voice broke into my thoughts. “You’re going to get a wrinkle right there,” he swiped his thumb between my brows. “And yes, they’re all going to be there. You know Gramps wouldn’t miss this.”

I smiled. Trace’s grandpa had welcomed me into their family with open arms and I honestly loved that man like he was a blood relative of mine. Trace’s grandma, mom, and brother were amazing as well, but not quite like Gramps. Warren Wentworth was an all around special person.

I stumbled into Trace’s car. I made sure no part of the gown was sticking out of the car before shutting the door.

I smiled over at my ‘new to me’ Ford Fiesta. It was purple and a nice upgrade from my old Ford Focus. Trace had been more than willing to buy me a fancy new car, he’d thrown around names like Mercedes and Land Rover, but I wanted to buy my car by myself. I didn’t want to be dependent on Trace. I knew he meant well, but I was stubborn, and I didn’t really like being showered in lavish gifts. I wasn’t that kind of girl. Simple was my way.

I took the cap off my head and twisted it around in my hands.

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