Incipient A Dark Paranormal Romance - Bianca Scardoni Page 0,72

Carly nodded excitedly. “Girls have to ask the guys!”

I had no idea why that was ‘the best part’. Just the thought of it had me breaking out in a cold sweat.

“Just so you know, if you ask me, I’ll definitely say yes,” informed Caleb, grinning from across the table.

Trace immediately shot him a murderous glare.

“What?” he asked, looking innocently at Trace. “I’m just letting her know she has options.”

Ben laughed. “Dude. You have no chance. We all know she’s going to ask Trace.”

My cheeks all but burst into flames. Why was this conversation even happening to me right now? I seriously should have stayed home today.

“You guys are such plebs. You’re embarrassing the hell out of her,” said Morgan, shooting warning glances all around the table. “She’ll ask whoever she wants to ask when she’s good and ready to ask.”

Woah. Did Morgan just defend me? Shrinking further into my chair, I gave her a thankful look and avoided making eye contact with everyone else. Seriously, though. Who knew Morgan could be decent?

“Fine. Sorry, Jem,” said Ben looking genuinely apologetic. “So, what about you Carly. Who you taking to the dance?” he asked, drawing everyone’s attention away from me.

“I haven’t asked anyone yet.”

“Well, you can always ask yours truly,” he said as he popped the collar of his dress shirt. “I’m still available.”

“What a shocker,” she said and rolled her caramel eyes at him.

Everyone laughed except for Trace. I turned my head in his direction and watched as he picked at his food, his mind a million miles away. He was unusually quiet and looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I couldn’t help but feel responsible for putting that weight there. No matter what I did or how good my intentions were, he always seemed to get the short end of the stick and it really wasn’t fair.

Unable to let things continue to deteriorate between us, I decided we needed to clear the air. Right then.

“Can we talk?” I whispered so that the others couldn’t hear in case he told me to take a hike.

He looked up and met my eyes. “Like right now?”

“Right now.”

And with that, we both stood up and excused ourselves from the table.

26. STRAIGHT, NO CHASER

With my heart trapped somewhere between my chest and my throat, I followed Trace out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the art room where we knew we’d have privacy to talk openly. I wasn’t yet sure what I was going to say to him or even if there was anything I could say that would make things better, but I knew I had to try. I couldn’t let things between us slip through the cracks again because of stupid misunderstandings.

I was already keeping enough from him—though mostly by no choice of my own—and I really didn’t need to add anything unnecessary to that already heavy list.

Once inside the art room, Trace shut the door behind himself and then leaned his back against it. “So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked, his steely mask firmly in place.

Squaring my shoulders, I tried not to let his detached countenance defer me. “Look, I know you’re mad at me because you think I’m lying to you, but—”

“You did lie,” he cut in, his eyes as heavy as my heart felt.

“O-kay,” I said slowly as I walked back to one of the art tables and then hopped up on it, ready to come clean. “I did lie. But it’s not what you think.”

“And what is it that I think?” he asked, his probing blue eyes dusting over me in a quick sweep, sizing me up.

“You think I went to see Dominic.”

“Didn’t you?” he asked, his veiled expression giving nothing away.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Then what happened to your neck, Jemma?” he asked patronizingly, as though he knew I was feeding him a bullshit story yet again, except that, for once, I wasn’t.

“If I tell you, you have to promise me you’re not going to freak out and do something stupid.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Define stupid.”

“Like getting all cave-man about it.”

His eyebrows shot up at that.

“I don’t need your protection and I don’t need you to handle anything for me. You have to promise that you’ll trust me to take care of this the way I see fit.”

Tension creased his brows. “What is this about, Jemma?” he asked as he pushed off the door and crossed the room toward me. “Tell me what happened.”

“First promise

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