Skylar
"Migraines. Nothing serious."
"Hmm." There’s concern in those mismatched eyes. "Have you seen a doctor for it?"
"Of course, I have. How do you think I got the prescription?" I huff.
"And what did he say?"
"That I need to take the medication at the onset of a migraine, so it has the most impact.”
His frown deepens. “How often do you get them?”
“Not often.”
He continues to stare at me, and it’s like he’s looking right into my soul. Damn, it’s difficult to lie when his mismatched gaze is watching me so closely, I’m sure he can follow my line of thinking. “I get them, maybe… once a month; more often, if I’m stressed out.”
“And are you stressed out now?”
“What do you think?”
His lips tighten. He’s not happy I answered his question with a question. Well, that's too bad. I'm not
