Page 47 of None Of Your Business

I stare at the worn fabric of my blanket. Giving this away feels like handing over a loaded gun, but he stayed tonight when he didn’t have to, and he deserves an explanation.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and POTS.”

It’s the first time I’ve said that aloud to someone who wasn’t wearing a white coat.

I wait for a reaction, but his gaze remains calm and locked on me.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look confused. Nothing.

I frown. “That’s it?”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to look shocked.”

“Would that help?”

“A little.”

He widens his eyes with such exaggerated horror that I almost choke on a laugh.

“My God,” he deadpans.

“Fuck off.”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward.

I pull the blanket higher around my waist. “POTS is why I fainted. I had physio this morning, and it was a rough session. I should have just rested.”

“And the EDS?”

“I’m faulty wiring. My joints are basically held together by a hope and a prayer.”

“I know what it is,” he says gently. “Contrary to your belief that I’m a dinosaur, medical terminology hasn’t changed much since my residency.”

“Ah,” I tease. “But you’re a very pretty dinosaur.”

His returning smile makes something ridiculous flutter in my chest.

It’s horrifying.

“I knew you were in pain sometimes,” he admits. “The limp wasn’t consistent enough to be a standard injury, and tonight made it clear that fainting isn’t new. Your family doesn’t know?”

“No, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

He holds up his hands. “They won’t hear it from me.”

I stare at his raised hands, then slowly lift my own, sticking my smallest finger straight up in the air.

He gawks at me like I’ve gone mad. “What are you doing?”

“Pinky promise.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Hudson. Seriously.”

“I’m a grown man. I’m not making a pinky promise.”