Read Online Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set by Micalea Smeltzer - Free Book Online Page B

I let go of his arm.
    I instantly felt even more off balance.
    Why on Earth had I ever wanted to go roller-skating? I think I’d rather be pole dancing!
    I held onto Trace’s hand like…well, like it was the only thing holding me up, which it was.
    “It’s okay, Olivia,” he squeezed my hand, studying my tense face. I’m sure I looked like someone who just spotted a giant ass spider, but I couldn’t wipe the look of fear off my face. I hated that Trace was seeing me freak out like this. He didn’t know me well, and I didn’t want him to think I was a scaredy cat…which I was. But my father had made me that way, by sheltering me so much. Things that seemed normal to most people were completely foreign to me.
    I eased off a bit on the death grip I had on his hand.
    He smiled encouragingly.
    I looked at the children around us. For most of them, this was probably the first time they’d been roller-skating. If they could do this without holding onto their moms and dads, then I could do this without hanging onto Trace.
    I let his hand slip from mine and began to wobble.
    His large hands clasped me by the waist before I could fall.
    “I’ve got you,” he hummed, his chest pressed against my back.
    I smiled in relief even though he couldn’t see. “Thank you,” I whispered.
    “I told you I wouldn’t let you fall and I meant it. I’m a man of my word, Olivia,” he murmured and my stomach fluttered.
    I had been attracted to plenty of guys over the years. I even had a few schoolyard crushes like everyone else. But no one had ever made me feel the way Trace did. The nerves and heart fluttering I felt around him were entirely new.
    “How does this feel, Olivia?” He asked, resting his chin on my shoulder.
    “Like freedom,” I smiled, closed my eyes, and let him guide me.
     

     
    Trace didn’t make me skate for long, which I was grateful for.
    It was okay, but I didn’t like it that much. Maybe, if I had tried it when I was younger I would have enjoyed it, but not now.
    He helped me back to the carpeted area and I sat down on the nearest bench, yanking off the skates.
    “You did good for a first timer,” Trace grinned, mussing his hair.
    I laughed. Who was he trying to fool?
    “I’m pretty sure I drew blood from squeezing your arm. I don’t call that good,” I peered up at him.
    He sat next to me and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt.
    Sure enough, there were five, very red, half-moon indents. A trickle of blood had escaped one of the marks and dried on his arm.
    “Told ya,” I picked up the skates and headed to where I’d left my shoes.
    Trace followed behind me, his skates dangling from his fingers.
    “I still think you did good,” he stated and I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye.
    “You’re such a liar,” I scolded him, sitting down to put my shoes on.
    He smirked, his lips upturned on one corner. “Okay, maybe I am, but I’m not lying now.”
    I rolled my eyes and wadded up Trace’s socks. “I’ll wash these before I give them back,” I tried to put them in my purse, which I had grabbed from the cubby my shoes had been in, but Trace reached out and snagged them from me.
    “I know how to work a washing machine, Olivia,” he grinned. “I promise,” he added. “I even know how to add fabric softener. Smell, it’s Mountain Spring,” he said sarcastically, holding the end of his shirt under my nose.
    “Fine, wash them,” I stood. “It’s not like they’re dirty from my feet or anything.”
    “I’m not afraid of your dirty socks, Olivia,” he grinned, leaning against the wall. His green eyes sparkled with carefully contained laughter.
    “Technically they’re your dirty socks,” I walked over to the counter to return the roller skates.
    “Ah,” he followed after me, “they may be my socks, but you’re the one that dirtied them.”
    “Why are we still talking about socks?” I stopped, throwing my hands in the air, and he ran into me. “I told you that I would