Chapter Forty

Corbin

The shop smells like green soap and disinfectant, and the sound of a machine running in the back room settles into my bones like a metronome. Jules's at the counter with her feet on a chair like she owns the place, Griff's wiping down his station while he hums off-key, and I'm pretending I'm not thinking about Savannah every time the bell over the door rings.

Jules watches me for a minute