Chapter 10

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Chapter Ten

The next morning I'm awoken by my phone dinging. I groan, like I do every morning I have to wake up early, and look at my phone.

It's a message from Trace, reading: I need a favor

I sit up and text him back: What's the favor...?

A few seconds later I get a reply: Get your mind out of the gutter. It's not the kind of favor your thinking of.

I roll my eyes: I wasn't thinking of anything bad

He reads the text and immediately begins typing: Sure you weren't. So I can come over?

I contemplate that idea for a moment. He needs a favor from me but doesn't seem to want to let me in on what it is, at least not yet. He's probably waiting for me to agree before filling me in on the what. He's Trace so the favor could be anything from walking a dog to jumping out of the back of a moving pickup. One thing I've learned from the boys is that none of them can ever be underestimated.

But in his defense he has saved my ass about five times since I've known him so I guess I sort of owe him one.

I decide my answer and text him back: I guess but give me about half an hour to wake up fully.

He reads the message but doesn't reply. I toss my phone onto my bed and throw my knotted up hair into a ponytail.

I get halfway down the stairs when there's a knock on the front door.

I hurry down the rest of the stairs and open the door to see Trace standing there.

Well, he sucks at following directions.

His eyebrows draw together as he takes in my appearance from head to toe. His eyes stop on my bunny slippers and he looks up at me with amusement replacing his features.

"You're not supposed to be here yet," I say defensively.

He chuckles, "Clearly,"

I fold my arms across my chest and he walks inside.

"I'm going upstairs to change. Don't move and don't make any noise, my mom is sleeping."

He gives me a bewildered expression. Probably wondering why everyone in this house is still sleeping at eight o' clock in the morning when he's already been up for hours. He should know that most people don't wake up until almost ten, well, not most, but a good majority.

"Change into something nice, we're going to a wedding in two hours." he says casually and I freeze.

"In two hours?" I ask and he nods, looking at a photo of me and mom on the wall.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with two hours? I still have to eat breakfast, shower, find a dress, put the dress on, hair, makeup, shoes..."

He slips his hands into his pockets and turns to look at me, "You can wear anything, you're hair looks pretty simply brushed and you don't need makeup. That just took care of half of your problem."

I shake my head, "It's not that simple Trace. You go pick out a dress for me and I'll go find something to eat."

I shoo him upstairs before going into the kitchen.

Skipping breakfast would be the smartest thing to do but that's not an option. A hungry Emma is a cranky Emma and I don't want to be trying to fight the bride or something.

After eating an entire bowl of cereal in only ten minutes, I toss the bowl into the sink and run upstairs.

When I get to my room Trace is standing in front of my closet looking at a light blue dress.

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