AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I took a sip of the champagne and gagged. The bubbly liquid tasted disgusting. I couldn’t figure out exactly what the flavor was, I just knew I hated it.
Trace and Trent got quite the chuckle out of my reaction. Neither of them seemed to mind the overly bubbly liquid, but it wasn’t passing through my lips ever again, that was for sure.
What felt like an eternity later, our food was brought out.
I ate it like someone was going to come steal my plate before I had the chance to finish.
“Slow down,” Trace chortled, “you’re going to choke yourself.”
“At least if she chokes herself the party will end early,” Trent mumbled.
Trace glared at his brother. “Thanks for your concern.”
“Hey,” Trent put his hands up in defense, “the sooner these stuffy old farts get out of my house, the sooner I can get the fuck out of here, and to the real party.” An older man glared at Trent as he passed. “Yes, Melvin, you’re one of the stuffy old farts I was talking about,” Trent added loudly to the older man.
The man, Melvin I assumed, shook his head and shuffled away.
“At least there will be fireworks at midnight,” Trent took a bite of asparagus. “That’ll be fun.”
“Hey boys,” I heard Trace’s mom, and turned to find Lily striding towards us, from a few feet away. “Olivia,” she added, smiling at me.
“Hi,” I waved awkwardly.
“Mom,” Trace grinned.
Lily stopped beside Trent’s chair and glared at her youngest son. “Melvin Cross just came up to me and-”
“I’m out of here,” Trent jumped up from his chair and ran away.
Exasperated, Lily threw her hands in the air, and scurried after him.
Trace looked at his fancy silver watch. “All this excitement and it’s already nine o’ clock. What’s next?”
???
“I thought you couldn’t dance,” I pouted as Trace led me across the dance floor.
“I can’t. Not really. But I can act like I know what I’m doing,” he grinned down at me as my dress swirled around my feet.
I tried to mimic the way other people were dancing, but I wasn’t exactly the most coordinated person on the word, and Trace wasn’t very good at leading.
Finally, I gave up, resting my head on his shoulder.
Golden lights sparkled around us, illuminating the room in warm glow.
I felt Trace’s lips brush against my forehead, and I smiled, the innocent gesture warming my heart.
The first song bled into the second and third and so on.
My feet were starting to get tired and I asked Trace if we could take a break.
“Sure thing,” he smiled, and started to guide me back to our table, with a hand on my waist.
“Trace Wentworth, funny running into you here,” a twinkling female voice stopped us in our tracks.
“Fuck,” Trace whispered under his breath, low enough that I, and the girl behind us, were the only ones who heard.
Trace’s hand flexed against my waist and his jaw tightened as he turned around slowly.
