Page 16 of Dr. Intern

“That’s what they teach us in doctor school,” I say, shooting her a wink.

Parker rolls his eyes as he runs his fingers through his slicked-back dark hair. “If you could stop flirting with my sister for a moment, I think we need to get seated.”

“Where’s Cass?” I ask, scanning the room for his better half.

He shakes his head. “God knows—I think she went somewhere with Claire.”

Caroline leans into me as she whispers, “The pain in his ass.”

“Noted,” I chuckle. “Where do y’all want me? Looks like the front is for family only.”

“Nah man, you’re sitting with us. I made sure there was room.”

As the three of us take our seats in the pew, we leave room for the stragglers at the end. The room settles as the pastor begins to shuffle papers at the front of the congregation. Parker and his sister fall into hushed conversation, so I take a minute to look at the booklet.

Grace Woodward Winters

August 21, 1955 - October 7, 2023

Devoted wife. Loving mother.

His mother was beautiful, the kind of beauty that transcends age. She shared lots of physical features with her children—dark hair, a thin nose, and full lips. Unlike Parker and Caroline, though, her eyes were bright and icy blue, compared to their darker hue. The color almost reminds me of that lagoon in Iceland that everyone visits after college.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Cassidy’s blonde hair pushing past people to get to the front of the sanctuary. I grin as she huffs dramatically, falling heavily into the seat next to me.

“Glad to see you made it in time,” I joke, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close.

“Thanks for coming,” she says, leaning into my embrace. “You know he appreciates it.”

Parker leans over, eyes narrowed on his fiancée. “Where’s Claire?” he whispers as the music from the string quartet begins to play.

Hearing that name for a second time triggers a memory, reminding me to reach out to the girl from the bar again. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head and need to figure out a way to see her again.

Cass reaches over me, patting Parker's leg to try to calm him down. “She’s coming. She was right behind me, I promise.”

Parker’s sharp inhale gives away his feelings, but he holds his tongue, apparently thinking better of whatever he was going to say.

“Do you want me to switch places with you?” I whisper to Cass.

She nods briefly, releasing her comforting grip on Parker’s leg as we stand and swap spots.

A few moments later, as the musicians are finishing their prelude, Parker’s missing sister slides into the open seat next to me.

Before I turn my head, the first thing that I notice is her scent—it’s familiar, like bourbon and oranges combined. I let my eyes travel up her long legs as she reaches to adjust her high heels, lingering a second too long on the hem of the dress, which stops halfway up her thigh.

My stomach drops when my mind finally connects the dots—the unique eyes, the perfect legs, the familiar scent—she’s not the pain in the ass sibling of my best friend, she’s the girl from the bar that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. The one that turned my world upside down and made me feel alive again.

Fuck me—she was Parker’s sister?

I ended up reaching out to her after golf with some flirty text about how I had numerous ways to make things up to her that didn’t involve clothes.

But now it makes sense why she didn’t reply—her mom had just died, and I was the douche who was trying to get in her pants. If I were her, I’d hate me.

As Claire sits up from adjusting her shoe, I lean over and whisper in her ear as if we’re old acquaintances, “Nice to see you again.”

Her spine visibly stiffens, like she recognizes my voice immediately. Those lagoon blue eyes stare straight ahead as her lips part, like she’s considering whether to acknowledge our previous history or pretend it never happened.

“Beau isn’t it?” she replies sweetly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

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