“I didn’t realise you were squeamish around blood.”
My throat goes dry at his words. “I never used to be, but sometimes the smell and the thought set me off.”
“Did something happen?”
I run my tongue over my bottom lip and dart my gaze to the window. “A while ago, yeah.”
JJ shifts from one foot to the other. “Has this got something to do with the scar on your chest?”
His eyes meet mine, and for a few moments, I say nothing.
“Yeah,” I say eventually.
When his expression warps into something I can’t read, I resist the urge to run. He presses a hand to the counter beside my leg and studies me carefully. “What happened?”
“It’s from an accident a few years ago. Don’t worry, I didn’t have open heart surgery or anything.”
I try to keep my tone as neutral as possible, but there is a slight tremor to my voice. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken about it to someone new, not in the last few years anyway.
“Accident?” he repeats as his brows crease. “What kind of accident?”
The air inside my lungs becomes non-existent, and the look in his eye has suddenly turned intense. A demand to know, and it makes butterflies of dread erupt inside my stomach.
“It doesn’t matter, JJ.” I brush it off.
“Does being squeamish affect your studies?” he asks after a few moments.
“What?”
“You said you study biomedical science. That’s like medicine and doctor stuff, right?”
My mouth parts at the fact he remembers. “Oh.” I blink. “Yeah. I’m not really squeamish when it comes to other people. It’s weird, some kind of mental block I have when it comes to myself.”
“Because of the accident?”
“Yeah.”
The kitchen turns silent, and I wish he had never brought it up in the first place because it makes me feel seen, and I’m used to hiding in the shadows.
It’s the reason why I hate him staring at me so much, because I fear he’ll be able to draw all my insecurities to the surface and analyse every inch of me.
It wouldn’t be hard, I doubt I’m very subtle.
I wish I was more like Daisy. I wish I was more like anyone… but me.
JJ’s mouth opens, but I get there first. “So, you and Daisy, huh?”
I scold myself for blurting the first thing I could think of when it’s the last thing I want to talk about with him. He blinks at my direct question and clears his throat, pushing himself up from the counter, putting distance between us.
“Uh.” He folds his arms over his bare chest, and I use every bit of strength inside me not to look. “Yeah… she’s a nice girl.”
My mouth stretches into a forced smile.
“Yeah, she is.”
“So, the loft.” JJ brushes his hand over his buzzed hair. “You want me to grab whatever you need?”
“Yes,” I exhale quickly. “Please. It’s in a green box with gold lining. It looks like a Christmas box, but it’s not.”
