𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 | 𝖩𝗈𝖻𝖾 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗆

¹⁵. 𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━   𝖠𝖫𝖤𝖷 𝖵𝖠𝖫𝖤

JOBE HAD LEFT his room to grab something from the kitchen, leaving me alone in the quiet space. As I sat on the edge of his bed, I let out a deep breath, finally standing up and taking a moment to steady myself.

His room felt like him—calm, neat, and slightly understated, but there was a warmth to it that I couldn't quite describe. I ran a hand through my hair and paced for a second, trying to shake off the mix of nerves and excitement coursing through me.

The reality of where I was hit me again. I was in Jobe's house, in his room, talking and laughing like we'd known each other forever. It was almost surreal. A part of me wanted to pinch myself to make sure it was real, but another part didn't want to ruin the moment.

As I paced the room, my eyes landed on the nightstand beside Jobe's bed. A picture frame sat there, its polished surface catching the soft light. I picked it up, curiosity getting the better of me.

It was a photo of Jobe, probably from middle school. He looked so young, maybe twelve or thirteen, with that awkward yet endearing smile kids have when they're not quite sure what to do in front of a camera. His hair was a little shorter, and his cheeks were fuller.

I couldn't help but smile. "So this is what baby Jobe looked like," I muttered to myself, feeling a strange warmth at seeing this part of his life.

It made him feel even more human—less like the confident football player everyone probably sees him as, and more like the dorky, sweet guy I was getting to know. I placed the frame back gently, careful not to disturb anything else, before sitting back down on the bed, still smiling to myself.

That's when my phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out and froze. Lo and behold... it was my mom.

I let out a breath. Luckily, Jobe wasn't in the room, so I didn't feel as nervous answering. Sliding my finger across the screen, I brought the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Mom," I said as casually as possible.

Her voice was warm but inquisitive, as it always was. "Hey—how was your flight?"

I leaned back against the bed frame, trying to sound relaxed. "It was fine. Smooth. Layla and Ethan kept me entertained, as usual."

"Good," she replied. There was a pause, like she was waiting for me to volunteer more details. When I didn't, she continued, "So, what are you guys up to now?"

I glanced around the room, my heart beating a little faster. "Oh, not much. Just unwinding at the hotel. It's been a long day."

"Uh-huh," she said, her tone neutral but slightly suspicious. "You sound... different."