Page 53 of Incipient

“Okay. Good.” He paused and then dragged his gaze back to my ankle before straightening in front of me. “I think you’re good to go,” he said and then picked me up off the counter and set me down on my feet before him.

Like, right in front of him. I had to tip my head back just to meet his eyes.

“Now let’s do those eyebrows,” he said with a dimpled grin.

I burst out laughing and swatted him in the chest playfully. “Yeah, that’s okay. I think I’ll stick with what I got.”

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked, pretending to be insulted by the notion.

“I trust you with my life, but never with my eyebrows,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Eyebrows could literally make or break a face,” I said, remembering my sister Tessa’s advice over the summer after a tweezing session gone horribly awry.

His eyes softened as hope fluttered inside them. “You trust me with your life?”

“You already know I trust you,” I reminded him, not wanting to make a big deal of it, though my cheeks were definitely warming up as though I were getting ready to step onto that hot seat again.

“Yeah, but there’s trusting someone and trusting someonewith your life,” he answered pointedly.

I shrugged my shoulders, unsure of how to answer. “Would it surprise you if I did?” I asked instead, a lame attempt to circumvent the loaded question.

“Not really.” His gaze never left mine. “Itwouldsurprise me if you’d admit it to me, though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I jerked back and then narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you implying that I’m incapable of being honest with you?”

“About your feelings? Yeah.”

Ouch.“That’s…not fair.”

“Am I lying?” he asked.

Okay, so he wasn’texactlytelling an untruth. Ihadbeen extremely dodgy and dishonest—albeit with good reason—when it came to admitting how I felt about him. But that didn’t make hearing it any less painful.

“You’re not lying,” I quietly admitted, figuring I could at least give him that much.

“So, you trust me with your life, but not with your heart,” he mused and while his voice seemed playful enough, I could see the pain and hurt in his eyes. None of this made sense to him.Ididn’t make sense to him.

Hell, I didn’t even make sense to myself half the time.

“I trust you with my heart, Trace. But I don’t trust myself withyours.”

His dark brows pinched above his pensive blue eyes as he processed that.

I wasn’t sure why my heart was jackhammering in my chest just then. Perhaps it was how close we were standing or how serious the conversation had become, or maybe it was the way he was looking at me, like I was the breath to his dying lung. Whatever it was, it was making my entire body flush with heat.

“Why did you kiss me tonight?” he asked suddenly, his question knocking all the air out of my lungs.

“Why are you asking me that?” I answered breathlessly.

“Because I want to know.”

My stomach dipped and flipped every which way as I tried to decipher the look on his face. It was a mixture of curiosity and…and something else. Anger? Regret? Accusation? Was he mad because I’d kissed him? The fact that I couldn’t make out the full scope of his emotions was putting me right on edge.

My defenses immediately shot up. “Why did you kiss meback?” I asked instead and then crossed my arms.

“You know why I kissed you back, Jemma. I want to know whyyoukissedme.”

I bristled. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Was it just to make him jealous?”

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