Chapter 13

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Chapter Thirteen

We begin watching one of the best shows ever. She lies back on the couch and I'm kicked back cozily in the recliner when suddenly the front door opens.

I turn around expecting to see Erica back early but instead it's Trace and Lucas.

She grins and jumps up to greet her boyfriend with a kiss, "Glad you got my text."

The two of them walk back over to the couch and a few seconds later, they're making out.

I look up at Trace and he see's my disgusted face and lets out a quiet laugh. I guess he's used to their face sucking.

He nods towards the kitchen and I get up to follow him, leaving all of the sexual tension behind us.

"They make good use of their time."

Trace laughs, showing his perfect teeth.

He's so beautiful. The way his eyes light up as he smiles and the way a simple curve of the lips could turn into a giant grin faster than you can blink.

"What?" he asks me with a curious smile, wondering why I've been looking at him for so long.

It never even occurred to me that he would notice me staring at his smile.

Once I realize how creepy I must look, I quickly change the subject, "I'm starving. Have you eaten yet?"

His eyes search my face for a moment, noticing my not so subtle attempt to avoid his question but to my luck he allows it to pass over smoothly.

"Nope," he walks over to the refrigerator and pulls out the eggs, "wanna make breakfast for dinner?"

"Sounds good to me."

He rubs his hands together, looking at the pantry, "Could you grab the baking powder and sugar?"

I nod and he heads to grab the butter and milk.

We meet back at the counter and I decide to give him a fair warning of what he's getting into, "I can't cook."

He shrugs, "I can."

I laugh, "Of course you can."

He puts the stick of butter in the microwave for fifteen seconds.

While the butter softens he leans on the counter and looks at me with his mouth curled up into a smile, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He crosses his arms to look serious but I roll my eyes, "What can't you do?"

His face becomes serious, "I can't pet a lamb."

The microwave beeps and he turns around to check on the butter.

"A lamb?" I ask confused, "Why can't you pet a lamb?"

He laughs, "Lambs are scary as shit."

Lambs are adorable.

"What's your trauma?"

For him to be scared of something as adorable as a lamb he must have some sort of past that made him scared of it. Maybe a lamb bit him once when he was younger?

Trace pours the butter into a bowl of flour and points to the eggs so I can hand him one while he talks.

"When I was seven years old my mom took me to the zoo. We went to the farm animals and a bunch of workers were running around frantically but my mom and I ignored it and went to look at the horses. My mom backed up to take a picture of me in front of the pony and while she was turned around, a big ass lamb runs up and knocks me down."

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