Page 17 of Room to Spare (The Fixer Upper #2)

SEVEN

Keaton stepped onto the balcony. The warmth of the day had disappeared as soon as the sun went down, to the point it was almost too chilly to sit out here.

The first week of having a roommate had been surprisingly easy.

Jules was mindful about cleaning up after themself and was always quiet as a mouse when they came in late from work.

After lying in bed for almost an hour, he’d given up on sleep. This happened sometimes, but never before had he been kept awake by someone else’s problems. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about other people, but he was usually much better at setting things aside if he couldn’t fix them.

He took a deep breath, savoring the quiet that had settled over the town. The stars were out, a tapestry of distant lights stretching across the sky, and in their midst stood Jules, a silhouette backlit by the security light in the back parking lot.

They hadn’t noticed him yet, and for a moment, Keaton allowed himself the luxury of simply watching.

Jules had been quiet at dinner tonight. More than once, Keaton had debated asking if they wanted to talk, but he worried he wouldn’t know what to say about whatever was going on.

Emotions had always made him uncomfortable.

The distant rumble of thunder hinted at an approaching storm, the air crisp and charged with a sense of anticipation. Keaton knew he should probably go back inside or announce his presence, but something about the night and the quiet presence of Jules kept him rooted in place.

Jules turned slightly, and the movement broke the spell.

They caught sight of him, their eyes widening slightly before a smile curved their lips.

As they leaned against the railing, Keaton couldn’t help but notice how the security light cast shadows across their face, highlighting the elegant line of their jaw.

Even in the dim light, he could tell the smile was forced, but there was something else there too—a flicker of awareness that made his pulse quicken unexpectedly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” they asked, their voice carrying a somber edge.

Keaton shrugged, moving closer to join them at the railing. “Something like that. You?”

“Same. Plus, it’s a great night to see the stars.” They gestured to the sky, their hand sweeping across the horizon as if to encompass the entire universe in that one motion. Another rumble of thunder rolled in the distance. “Or at least it will be until the clouds move in.”

Keaton nodded, his gaze drifting upward before settling back on Jules.

The quiet companionship felt comfortable, a feeling he hadn’t anticipated.

“It’s beautiful,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I come out here a lot at night if I can’t sleep.

There’s something about just sitting and being that eventually calms my mind enough that I’m able to drift off. ”

He widened his stance, shifting his hand closer to Jules’s.

His body was filled with nervous energy, with the need to do something, to somehow help Jules realize they could talk to him.

Finally, he took the leap. “You know, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.

I know we’re not really buddies or anything, but I’d like to think we could be friends given time to get to know one another when you’re not working. ”

Friendship isn’t what you want.

Jules’s eyes sparkled in the dim light, a hint of mischief lurking beneath their serene expression. “I used to think that old tree could carry me anywhere,” they murmured, their voice tinged with nostalgia.

Keaton waited, hoping an explanation of some sort was forthcoming. What tree?

“A lot of the trees were small when I was a kid, but the one next to the barn always seemed huge. And it had low enough limbs that I could stand on an old apple crate and grab the bottom branches. It’s wild to think I’ll never look out my bedroom window and see it there again.

Maybe that’s dumb because I’m old enough that I shouldn’t have been living with my parents anyway. ”

“It’s not dumb,” Keaton interrupted. Sure, he’d thought it was odd that Jules still lived at home the first time he asked Paige about them, but it was clear they’d been there as a way to support themself and still have time for their art. That was admirable.

He tried putting himself in Jules’s shoes. What would he do if his parents announced they were not only selling the family home but moving out of state? A pit formed in his stomach at the very thought.

Keaton’s grip on the balcony’s cold railing tightened, reflecting the internal struggle he couldn’t quite shake.

He longed to offer comfort, to bridge the gap between them with words, but everything felt inadequate.

Instead, they stood in shared silence, the unspoken understanding filling the space between them.

Finally, Jules turned to him, their eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The vulnerability in their expression was raw and unguarded, cutting through Keaton’s defenses with a precision he hadn’t anticipated.

Their shoulders trembled slightly, and Keaton felt an overwhelming urge to reach out, to bridge the gap between them with more than just words.

His fingers twitched at his side. Something he couldn’t identify pulled him closer despite his hesitation. He could smell the faint scent of Jules’s shampoo, something herbal and clean that made his chest tighten with longing.

“Jules,” he whispered, his voice rougher than intended.

The word hung between them, laden with meaning he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Their eyes met, and Keaton saw something flicker there—pain mingled with a question that made his pulse quicken.

His gaze dropped briefly to their lips before returning to their eyes, the momentary lapse revealing more than he meant to share.

The air between them seemed to compress, making it difficult to breathe.

Keaton swallowed hard, fighting the impulse to step forward, to gather Jules in his arms and offer comfort in ways that crossed the careful boundaries he’d established.

Instead, he remained rooted in place, caught in the gravity of Jules’s pain and his own conflicted desires.

“I’m glad I’m here, with you,” they confessed softly, the words a fragile connection between them. “It makes it a little easier knowing I won’t be alone after they close on the house in a few weeks.”

Oh wow, that was fast. Keaton’s mom had predicted it wouldn’t be on the market long, but it seemed like they’d just listed the place. “I didn’t realize they had an offer already.”

“They accepted one last night,” Jules said. They sighed heavily. “Told me this morning so I could figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my crap.”

“I’m sure that’s not the only reason.” Over the past week, Keaton had gotten to know a fair bit about Jules and their parents over nightly dinners.

It was obvious how much they loved and supported their child, and Keaton was sure this move wasn’t easy on them either.

“If you need help moving anything or a place to store stuff, just let me know. I cleaned out one of the storage rooms before you moved in, so it’s just sitting there empty.

I don’t want you thinking you have to give away everything just because you currently have limited space, and there’s no need for you to pay for a storage unit you’ll only need for a couple of months. ”

“Thanks. I might take you up on that.” Jules’s body sagged, as if their muscles could no longer hold them up after an emotional day.

Keaton didn’t give himself time to second-guess before draping an arm over Jules’s shoulders, comforting them.

He did, however, stop short of placing a kiss on the top of their head.

That would’ve been a giant leap too far.

But damn, he wanted to. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here too. ”

The storm rumbled in the distance. Keaton felt a sense of peace he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. It was a feeling he couldn’t ignore, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

He guided Jules to one of the chairs, not in any hurry to get inside.

Once the rain came, they’d have to move, but for now, it felt right to sit next to them in the darkness.

The air was electric, charged with more than just the impending storm.

It was as if the universe was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Jules spoke again, their voice a soft, steady presence in the darkness. “Do you ever think about what might have been if you’d chosen a different path in life?”

Keaton considered the question, the weight of it settling over him like a familiar cloak.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But I’m not sure there was ever another direction for me to go.

I started working with my dad on the weekends in my early teens, and even when I was in college, I was taking on more responsibilities. You?”

Jules nodded, their gaze fixed on the horizon. “Right now, definitely. I wish I’d gotten my head out of my butt to learn something marketable. If I had a better job, maybe I could have worked out a deal with my parents to buy the farm.”

“Would you have wanted that?” Keaton got the impression Jules’s thoughts were more about holding on to the past than actually wanting to raise animals or tend a garden.

He reached across the space between them, placing a hand on Jules’s.

“It’s okay if the answer is no. But don’t beat yourself up trying to figure out what you could have done differently.

No matter who lives in the house, that property will always be a piece of you. ”

“Thanks.” Jules let their head fall to the back of the chair, lolling to the side so they could look at Keaton. “I wouldn’t have expected that from you, but you’re right.”