Winter’s POV
The steady hum of my car engine was the only sound as I sat parked outside Damon’s house, gripping the steering wheel. I had arrived a few minutes early, but instead of knocking, I found myself staring at his front door, willing the nerves in my stomach to settle.
Yesterday’s session had gone well—better than I’d expected—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting between us. Damon was letting me in, little by little, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what that meant. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my therapy bag and stepped out of the car. The morning air was cool and crisp, the faint scent of dew still clinging to the grass. By the time I reached the door, I had forced myself into professional mode.
Damon answered on the first knock, his crutches tuc
