“I’m not uncomfortable,” he says. “I’m just—” Turning on the bed, he actually abandons his skunk vigil to face me. “That sounds serious.” “Well, it can be. Mine’s pretty well managed. Well, it was, after I was first sick and diagnosed in high school. But it got out of control recently again, which is one of the reasons why I’m here, living in your house instead of wrapping up law school.” Axel stares down at my hands held protectively over my stomach, and then he sets his hand over one of them, dragging it his way. Studying my palm, he slides a finger along my lifeline. “I’m sorry.” “It’s
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