Second First Impressions by Sally Thorne

Second First Impressions by Sally Thorne

Author:Sally Thorne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: William Morrow Paperbacks
Published: 2021-02-12T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Sixteen

You did good,” Melanie says with her head inside my closet. “Your first worksheet was excellent. You were really honest about your dream man.”

(Was I, though?)

“Thanks, Mel. And yours looks good too.” I am sitting on my bed, reading her version of the worksheet: the dream job edition. “I think what I’m seeing here is that you don’t like any job where the days are the same.”

“Yeah. It makes me start to feel like I’m decaying.” She tosses a handful of clothes on the bed, still on their hangers. “But don’t try to distract me. We’re talking about you. Bring on the Sasaki Method, Week 2.”

My swimsuit is on a hanger from the curtain rail. It’s been dry for three days now, but I haven’t put it away because it’s a reminder that what happened between Teddy and me was real.

I changed when I jumped in that pool. I got younger.

I’ve soaked myself in something that has made my skin sensitive. I’ve been breathless ever since we swam in the same water and he told me words like sublime, sizzle, magnetic. I need to walk around naked for a few minutes to recalibrate myself, but the moment I even touch a button or zip, he’s knocking on my front door, asking to borrow something.

A knife, fork, plate, and frying pan have all gone next door. After dinner, he appropriates a squirt of washing-up detergent. He leans in my doorway drying my things with my dishcloth, telling me about the ridiculous tasks he performed for Renata, and I can’t stop staring at the toes of his boots on the threshold to my apartment. He’s creating a boundary for us. The fact that he sees a need to? I get a delicious shiver in my stomach.

Without thought I tell Melanie, “Teddy’s made me doubt this whole project.”

“Did you just tell me to my face that Teddy Prescott is making you doubt me and my Method?” Melanie throws a tweed blazer onto the bed with violence. “You’re going to take advice from a man-child like him?”

I am compelled to defend him. “That’s harsh.”

“It’s accurate.” She holds up a blouse and makes a face. “Remember, he’s a test. You need to stay strong and resist the urge.”

“There’s no urge,” I begin to lie, but she holds up a hand.

“My mother says in any relationship, there’s an adorer and an adoree. One who loves, and the one who is loved. You’ll need to know which one you are.”

“Adorer. Adore-ee.” I sound out the unfamiliar made-up word. I think of my mom and dad. That’s pretty clear-cut. He doesn’t even buy her a birthday present; she bakes him a triple-layered cake. “Give and take.”

“Exactly. Theodore Prescott is permanently on the hunt for an adorer. And he will take all the adoration until you have no more. Then, like a big old honeybee, off he’ll go, buzz, buzz, buzz . . .”

Teddy’d probably agree, but I wish she’d stop. “Just warning you, if he’s home, he can hear you through the wall.



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