Page 51 of First Impressions of You

Is that what I did to med school? Did I convince myself that I was quitting because it wasn’t what I was passionate about it when the reality was that I didn’t want to work hard for it?

No, I know that isn’t true. I know my future was never at my parents’ clinic. I know this is just my mind playing tricks at me.

It’s just hard to convince myself of that when I have to work the hardest for something I actually want and, it seems like I can’t find it in me to do so. Maybe if I were good enough, I would’ve come up with a solution by now, but as I walk into my apartment after an hour-long walk, I’m no closer to solving this problem with Winter than I was when I left Movieland.

Neither one of my sisters is home when I arrive. They’re both in class. Olivia’s finally started college, and now she’s only taking weekend shifts at Movieland. I’m alone for the next couple of hours, so I decide to go for a swim in the pool that no one in this building ever uses.

I just hope the water helps my creativity flow better.

Changing into my bikini, I wrap myself in my colorful sarong that I bought on a trip to Recife years ago and go to fill a bottle of water to bring with me. It’s the first week of September, but the heat hasn’t let up yet.

I’m so distracted, I jump when there’s a knock at my door. Apart from Cece, no one ever comes unannounced, so I just assume it’s her and go to the door without thinking to check before opening it.

Then, I get my second surprise in as many minutes.

Winter is standing on the other side, eyes wide as if he, too, is surprised to be there. Like he blinked and showed up on my doorstep.

“For fuck’s sake,” he huffs under his breath. Then he turns around.

“What the fuck? What are you doing here?”

“Put some clothes on before you answer the door,” he barks.

I look down at my body, only then remembering I’m in nothing but a bikini, the sarong loosely wrapped around my waist.

“It’s a bikini, Winter. I bet you’ve seen one of those before.”

“I know it’s a bikini,” he growls.

“Then you’re just being an ass because you can’t help it?” He says nothing in return. “What do you want? What are you doing here?”

“I wanna talk,” he replies to the palm tree in front of him.

The last thing I want right now is to talk to Winter, but he’s here, and Emily’s warning flashes in my mind. We have to fix this. If I haven’t been able to come up with a solution on my own, maybe we can brainstorm together.

“Come in,” I say reluctantly.

“Have you put clothes on?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“I can’t talk to you in that,” he grunts. My arms go to cover my stomach, but I drop it just as quickly, refusing to let him make me any more self-conscious than he’s already made. “It’s distracting.” His voice sounds strangled when he says it.

I stomp to my bedroom and pick up the first thing I can find. A pair of gym shorts and a loose G’n’R black T-shirt a college friend gave me a few months ago. It just so happens to be cropped a couple of inches under my boobs, not covering much skin.

“There,” I say when I return. “You can come in now.”

He slowly turns on his heels, a pained look on his face. When he sees my still-exposed belly, he glowers at me.

“I put some goddamn clothes on. Now talk.”

Winter is uncomfortable. I can see it clear as day. He’s standing still, not sure whether to commit to what he came here to do or bolt straight down the hallway. Ultimately, he walks into the apartment.

“What did you wanna talk about?” I ask, closing the door and turning to him. Suddenly, I become too aware of the fact that Winter Davis is standing in my living room.

“You know what.” His low voice is even raspier now, the frustration he’s clearly holding back slipping out with the words. The sound reverberates through my whole body, sending sparks to places that have been neglected far too long. I feel it settle heavy in my core.

“I don’t,” I lie.

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