Jules settles into the chair across from me, crossing one leg over the other. My eyes flick down before I force them away. But the memory is already there—her thighs under my hands, her body moving over mine, the way she moaned my name that night.
I clear my throat. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” She waves a hand like she’s brushing away the weight of whatever she came here to say. “I, uh… would it be okay if we did family dinner at my place tomorrow night?”
I study her, but she doesn’t drop her gaze.
“Of course,” I say easily.
She hesitates, something flickering across her face, before she blurts out, “I just don’t like the idea of you doing all the work while I just… show up.”
I lean back in my chair. “Jules, you don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I know, I just…” She exhales. “We’re in this together. We should share equal responsibility. I’ll make dinner this week. We’ll do your place next week, and you can cook.”
The corner of my mouth tips up. “You sure you trust my cooking?”
She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Corbin, you literally made homemade noodles last week.”
“Fair point.”
She shifts again, her posture relaxing slightly. “How was volunteering in Tate’s class?”
I’m caught off guard by the change in subject but recover quickly. “Good. Lance Yeardley got switched to another class. Apparently, it wasn’t just Tate he had issues with.”
Jules sighs, shaking her head. “I really hate that kid.”
I let out a low chuckle. “You don’t hate anyone, Jules.”
She lifts a brow. “I hatethatkid.”
“He punched Tate,” I remind her. “I hate him, too.”
A beat of silence.
And then she smiles.Reallysmiles. The kind that knocks the breath out of my lungs because I haven’t seen it in so damn long.
I have no idea what this is between us, but I know one thing for sure. I’m not ready to let it slip through my fingers again.
“I’m, uh, thinking about painting again,” Jules confesses, her voice hesitant but determined.
I sit up straighter, surprised. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She gnaws on her lower lip, a nervous habit I’ve memorized. “I went on another date with Trey.”
Jealousy claws at my chest, but I force it down. I have no right to it. “A second date.”
She exhales, shaking her head. “I slept with you two weeks ago, then jumped into dating. It was… not a great idea.”
Something shifts in my chest. “Are we finally going to talk about that?”
“Dating other people?” she teases, one brow lifting in challenge.
“No.” I try to hide a smirk. “The sleeping together thing.”
She presses her lips together, considering. Then, finally, she says, “I don’t know what that was.” She looks down at her lap, then back at me. “But I… I’m still… attracted to you. In that way.”
I study her, trying to figure out where she’s going with this. “Why are you telling me this?”
