How do I know it’s you if you don’t tell me your name? This number isn’t in my phone.
Keaton’s phone chimed. He read the message and laughed. “Fair point. Do you make a habit of giving your number to random men?”
“Only once,” Jules admitted, immediately wishing a sinkhole would open beneath them. So much for leaving that night in the past.
“Good to know.” And with that, Keaton winked before turning and walking away.
What in the ever-loving…?
Jules gaped at him as he walked back to his truck. If there was one thing they knew for certain, it was that they’d never understand Keaton Anderson.
FIVE
Keaton laced up his hiking boots, opting to spend the morning hiking at the park rather than his typical run through town. He was trying to get better about ignoring business on the weekends, and this seemed to be a good way to start. The early hour promised solitude and clarity, yet his thoughts twisted and tangled around the same relentless thread: Jules.
The trail stretched ahead, dappled in the soft light that filtered through a canopy of leaves. It was a place Keaton had come to rely on for its predictability—each rock, each bend familiar under his feet. Yet today, even the well-worn path couldn’t anchor his restless mind.
He inhaled deeply, the cool air sharp with the scent of dew and earth. It should have been grounding, but his mind was scattered. Keaton tried to focus on the rhythm of his steps, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the distant call of cranes in the marshy field on the other side of the woods. But Jules’s laughter echoed in his ears, their vibrant energy refusing to be dismissed.
As he walked, he ran through all the reasons inviting Jules to live with him, no matter how temporary, was a horrible idea. Heenvied Jules’s carefree nature, how easy it was for them to go after whatever they wanted. He never would’ve had the bravery to write his number on a receipt if their roles were reversed.
And that was exactly why he hadn’t texted Jules. Instead, he’d tucked the number in the back of his wallet, even as he chastised himself, saying he should just throw it out. But he couldn’t. He’d felt silly asking for Jules’s number the other night at the community center, but the only other option would’ve been admitting he’d held on to that little scrap.
Every Thursday when he and Luke went out for dinner, he noticed something new about the enigmatic server. The way they flitted from table to table, treating everyone as if they were the only customers who mattered. The scent of their cologne or whatever they wore, a unique blend of masculine spice and more feminine florals. How they stopped by his table just a little more frequently than any other, lingering as if they wanted to find any reason possible to stay close to Keaton.
The fact that he’d cataloged all these things should have warned him that offering Jules his spare room was dangerous. He could only imagine what he’d face when they were in one another’s space all the time.
He pushed on, the trail leading him deeper into the park. Another mile or two would help. It had to. Eventually, he’d fall into a steady rhythm, leaving everything else behind.
A memory surfaced unbidden: Jules, standing in his office, eyes bright with excitement over the mural project. They’d spoken with such passion, such conviction, and Keaton had been drawn in despite himself. It was the same passion that lingered in their laugh, a sound that had hummed in his chest long after they’d left the room.
Keaton shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. It was ridiculous. “They deserve someone who makes them a priority without a calendar reminder,” he told himself firmly. But even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t the whole truth.
His phone pinged, interrupting his internal monologue. He fished it out of his pocket, squinting at the screen. A message from Jules, a simple link to a playlist with a note:
In case it’s a dealbreaker.
Curiosity piqued, Keaton clicked the link and let the music fill the silence. It was chaotic, overly upbeat—everything he usually avoided. But he didn’t skip a track, letting the unfamiliar tunes weave through his thoughts as he continued along the path.
At a fork in the trail, he hesitated. One path led toward the marsh, unexplored and unpredictable. The other was familiar, well-trodden. Safe. He took the path home, the choice as automatic as breathing.
“No surprises. No risks,” he murmured, but it sounded like an excuse even to his own ears.
As the music played on, Jules’s presence seemed to infiltrate his world, even from a distance. The ache in his chest wouldn’t go away, a persistent reminder that he was excited about his new roommate, even if ignoring his attraction felt impossible.
“This isn’t anything.Can’tbe anything. Not with someone like Jules,” he repeated, the words a mantra he clung to. But each step felt heavier, each note of the music a reminder that he was lying to himself.
The trail wound back toward the town. Keaton’s steps slowed as he neared the end of his hike, a reluctant acknowledgment thathe was returning to the real world, where everything made sense—except Jules.
Keaton took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. But the music played on, Jules’s presence lingering like a shadow, and he knew that no matter how much he tried denying it, he wanted Jules.
His mind was still scrambled later that afternoon when he headed over to Luke and Noah’s for a barbecue. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with his friends, who found endless amusement ribbing him about the predicament he faced. His only saving grace was that Noah was good at reeling Luke in when he took things too far. They were a great balance to one another.
He debated turning around, retreating to the comfort of his quiet apartment, but a voice from within urged him to push open the gate at the side of the house. He stepped inside, greeted by the scent of grilled meat and the sound of kids screaming and laughing.
“Look who finally decided to show up!” Luke’s voice boomed across the yard, drawing attention to Keaton’s arrival.
“Sorry, stopped in the office on my way to the truck and had to do something really quick,” Keaton replied, offering a tight smile as he joined the group gathered around the grill. He wastryingto get better, but that didn’t mean he was perfect. He called it a win that he’d spent the morning outside and the early afternoon tidying up the apartment.
