“It’s not cheating. It’s strategy. Ask Sun Tzu.”
I toss my suitcase on the bed and yank open the drawers of the rickety dresser as she messes with the door again.
“Colton Ford Miller, don’t you dare unpack that suitcase in my room.”
“Not your room, Quinn Livia Riley.”
I start blindly throwing clothes into the drawers. Half of this stuff will need to be hung up later, but that’s not the point.
“You tricked me with that tricky suitcase…” She struggles to finish the sentence, too frustrated by my victory. “...trick!”
“It’s cute when you get flustered and lose your words.”
Her fist bangs against the door again. “Your mother would be so disappointed in you.”
“My momma raised me to be a winner,” I say, letting my accent slip back in full force.
I toss the empty suitcase under the bed. I allow one more laugh before I school my expression and walk to the door.Quinn’s leaning on the couch across from me with an adorable scowl.
“You’re a dick.”
I feign concern. “Did you want this room? I’m sorry. I wish I had known before I unpacked.” She shoulders past me with narrowed eyes. “Welcome to my crib.”
She glances over her shoulder with an infuriatingly sexy smirk. “You’re dating yourself, Dr. Miller.”
She saunters over to see the view I haven’t taken the time to look at in my mad dash to claim the bedroom. With her back to me, my eyes run down her body.
I saw the physical changes through our video calls and the hundreds of pictures she sent me, but it had all been theoretical to a certain point. When I thought of her over the years, she was the last way I’d seen her in person, twenty-two with a giant smile on her face and tears sliding down her cheeks as she dropped me at the airport. My brain’s still processing the changes in person.
She’s even more beautiful now with her blond hair cut short. I’m temporarily mesmerized by the way it swings over her shoulders as her head follows the path of the Roman skyline. She has laugh lines around her eyes now, and I’m grateful that she’s spent most of our time apart smiling even in the midst of her hurt. She’s put on weight that makes her look like an ancient statue of Venus brought to life, all lush curves built for grabbing.
I look back up to find her watching me over her shoulder with a raised brow, and I clear my throat. “How’s the view?”
“Spectacular, you asshole.” With a final scowl at me, she turns back to the window.
I come up behind her to see for myself. She’s right. The oranges, yellows, and reds of the buildings catch the sun. Clotheslines dotted with drying laundry hang between them, a sign that the neighborhood still holds on to its local population. Plenty of the buildings are showing age, their facade damaged and discolored, but that’s part of the joy of Rome. Everything’sold. Centuries old. Every crumbling building and hole-in-the-wall courtyard makes me wonder what it’s seen over the course of its history, so significantly longer than my own. I’m a blip, a mayfly. It should terrify me, but I find the consistency and grandeur of this place more comforting than intimidating.
Our apartment is in Trastevere, a historically local neighborhood that is becoming more popular with students, artists, and tourists by the day. The dome of Saint Peter’s Basilica shines in the distance, capping off the perfect image of Rome. I’ll never get over the contradiction of these historical sights next to the crumbling facades and ruins that litter so many corners. The juxtaposition of a city collapsing under the weight of its own history next to the greatest—and most pristine—artistic and architectural feats.
I look down at the side of Quinn’s face, her eyes misting as she gazes over the city. She’s stunning, even more gorgeous than the view outside my bedroom window, and I’m struck by how lucky I am for the thousandth time.
“It’s been a while since I thanked you,” I say.
She rolls her eyes even as her lips curve up. “That again?”
“Yes, that again. You’re the reason I have this life.”
“You would have figured something out,” she says, fiddling with her shirt like my gratitude makes her uncomfortable.
“I don’t think I’d be living under a bridge now if you hadn’t stepped in. But I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have a career I love and a chance to travel the world doing it. Your belief in me changed everything, and I’ll never stop saying it.”
She teases her lip with her teeth as she squeezes past me, plopping down in the plush armchair set up in front of my new desk.
“I don’t think I’ve ever said this out loud, but you changed everything for me, too.”
I cross my arms and lean back against the windowsill. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. You were my first student.” I laugh and her smile grows. “Seriously! You had so much potential and were being left behind by an educational system that acted like you should know everything. It wasn’t fair. I got more joy out of helping you than I got out of all my classes combined. It was the first time I questioned if the life laid out for me was the one I wanted.”
