I swallow that hope down like sour milk. “Hey, bud. What are you up to?”
“Mom’s making cookies, so I’m playing with Igor.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “How’s your snake doing?”
“He stopped moving. I think he needs new batteries. Sarge said we had some in the back, but we’re all out.”
“I can drop some off,” I offer without hesitation.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m leaving work now anyway. I’ll swing by the store on the way.”
“Mom!” Tate calls excitedly. “Dad’s bringing me batteries!”
I hear Jules say something in the background, but it’s muffled. Then, after a pause—
“Corbin?”
I swallow hard. “Hey, Jules.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she says softly. “I have some at home.”
“I’m already at the store,” I fib, gripping the steering wheel. “I’ll be there in ten.”
She exhales, something unreadable in the sound. “Corbin… it’s too much.”
“Igor can’t move,” I argue with a laugh.
There’s a beat of silence before she exhales again, but this time, I can hear it, the smile in her voice.
“I thought you preferred your snakes immobile.”
“Only the living, breathing kind,” I reply, shifting into reverse and backing out of my parking spot.
Jules chuckles, the sound soft, easy. Like it used to be.
“Alright,” she murmurs. “See you in a few.”
The line goes dead, but the cautious hope unfurling in my chest lingers.
Chapter Seven
Jules
It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a first date. Twelve years, to be exact.
Corbin was my last first date. I was nineteen. He was twenty-two. Gorgeous. All dark hair and sharp blue eyes that cut right through me. His smile was easy, his arms solid, like he could hold the weight of the world without breaking a sweat.
And maybe, back then, he did.
He picked me up in dark-wash jeans and a navy pullover, smelling like pine needles and clean laundry. Like something familiar, something safe. Like home.
And after that night, I never wanted to go home again.
I don’t think Corbin did either.
We were inseparable. A single name instead of two. JulesandCorbin. We did everything together. Study sessions that turned into late-night drives, weekends tangled up in each other, whispered dreams about the future over plates of greasy diner food.
