Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set by Micalea Smeltzer Page B

cheeks with my hands, willing the heat in them to leave. Maybe Avery could give me a lesson in not blushing. In all the time I had known her, she had never blushed, while I seemed unable to turn it off.
    “What do you want?” He asked, motioning for me to order.
    “Oh,” I mumbled, stepping up to the counter, scrutinizing the menu. “Um, I’ll have the double fudge cookie dough blizzard,” I mumbled and stepped back. I didn’t see how I could go wrong with that.
    Trace ordered a pineapple sundae and we stood off to the side and waited.
    Once we were handed our ice cream, we took a seat on the other side, away from the commotion of the counter.
    The seats were old fashioned, with blue and red, shiny cushions. A mural of various ice creams and candies decorated one wall, while the opposite wall was made entirely of windows.
    We sat down at one of the tables next to the windows. It was dark outside, but it seemed brighter with the light from inside the Dairy Queen, and the various shops across the street.
    “Pineapple?” I raised a brow as Trace took a bite.
    “I like pineapple,” he shrugged, “therefore pineapple and ice cream are a winning combination. I can also delude myself into believing it was semi healthy when I feel guilty later.”
    I laughed. “You sound like you have a vagina.”
    He snorted. “I don’t, but feel free to check it out if you want.”
    “I’m good,” I looked away, taking a bite of my ice cream. “So, you don’t eat a lot of sweets?” I asked.
    He frowned. “I try not to, but Skittles are my guilty pleasure.”
    I laughed, remembering the bowl of Skittles on his coffee table.
    “I try to eat healthy, not like most guys living on their own,” he explained. “My mom made sure that my brother and I could cook.”
    “Those stuffed shells you made were delicious,” I licked my lips free of ice cream.
    He grinned. “I knew my stuffed shells would impress you.”
    I rolled my eyes, silently scolding my cheeks for flaming at his words. “How do you manage to make everything sound dirty?”
    He smirked cockily. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
    “That’s some gift,” I laughed.
    “Not everyone can be this talented,” he winked, and then swirled his tongue around the spoon, licking away every drop of ice cream.
    I think my ovaries may have exploded.
    Heat rushed through my body, and I knew not even the ice cream I was currently eating, could smolder it.
    Damn Trace Wentworth.
    He finished his sundae and waited patiently for me to finish mine.
    “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he leaned back in the chair.
    Ugh, couldn’t he have just kept quiet about that?
    Men.
    I waved my hand in dismissal.
    “I really am,” he added.
    “Can we just not talk about it,” I pleaded.
    “Sure,” he shrugged, clasping his fingers together. “Whatever you want.”
    “Thanks,” I mumbled, staring down at the ice cream like it was the most interesting thing I had ever seen.
    “You get embarrassed easily, don’t you?” He questioned.
    I sighed, looking up to meet his eyes. “Yeah. I like to believe it’s a byproduct of being raised by my dad and not just me…being me,” I shrugged.
    “ Everyone gets embarrassed now and then,” he replied.
    “Even you?” I looked at him in disbelief.
    “Even me,” he chuckled. “Just not as much as I used to when I was an awkward tween,” he winked.
    I doubted Trace had ever been awkward or as easily embarrassed as I was. It seemed impossible. He was always calm, cool, and collected.
    I finished my ice cream and Trace drove me back to the dorms.
    “Well,” he grinned, looking over at me, “goodnight.”
    “Goodnight,” I smiled back, opening the car door.
    I was closing the door when he exclaimed, “Oh, Olivia!”
    “Yeah?” I opened the door wide and leaned my head inside.
    The panty dropper smile graced his lips, causing a fire to erupt inside me. “I hope you dream of me.”
    My heart skipped a