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He arched an eyebrow at me, like a challenge. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

My face grew hot. “Right,” I muttered. “Just… no ideas, okay?”

He laughed, but I didn’t think it was at me. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. Not really.”

I was almost insulted. I was proud of my body. I was strong. I was young. I was capable of providing for my—

Fuck.

He wiped his eyes. “No, oh god, get that wounded look off your face. Christ.” He took a deep breath. “I’m ace.”

I frowned. “What’s that?”

“Asexual.”

“Oh. Oh.” I scrunched up my face. “Like… really?”

Now he was laughing at me. “Like, really.”

“How did that work?” I blanched. “Holy shit, ignore me. Seriously, don’t think you need to explain—”

“If that’s what you want,” he said, and that was it.

I scowled at him.

He smiled at me.

I lasted a few more seconds. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” he said simply.

“But.” I waved my hand in the direction of my neck and the scar on it that extended near my shoulder. “And. Like. You know.”

He laughed again. I thought I even heard Ox snorting outside the door. “We made it work. It’s not that I’m repulsed by sex or anything. It’s just not everything to me. There’s more to us than physical intimacy. Or there was.”

“Oh.” I bit the inside of my cheek, but the words came out in a rush. “And I was okay with that?”

“You were,” he said, and his voice took on a wistful tone that made me feel like I was intruding. “We made it work because we… well.”

Blue.

The room filled with blue.

It was smothering.

I wanted to go to him. It was like a pull. Toward what, I didn’t know.

Instead I pulled off my shirt and let it fall to the floor.

“You can stop flexing,” he said, the blue fading slightly.

“I’m not.”

“Really,” he said. “So your pecs usually bounce up and down like that normally? That’s something you should probably get checked out.” He looked me up and down, but there was no stink of arousal coming from him. Instead, it was warm, like a heavy blanket on a winter day. “You’re bigger than you were. Harder.”

“I’m… sorry?” I wasn’t sorry at all.

He shook his head. “It looks good on you.” He reached over, pulled the shower curtain back. He turned the faucet. Water began to pour into the tub. “Best get to it. You need it. Even I can smell you, and my nose is weak as hell.”

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