Page 117 of Secondhand Smoke
* * *
Ron sipped slowly at the last drops of his coffee, silent and contemplating everything Barrett had told him. Barrett tried to hide his nerves, but his fingers tapping rapidly against his leg weren’t cooperating.
Ron didn’t seem at all surprised when Barrett had told him of their relationship and a censored version of how they’d gotten to this point. He hadn’t even flinched when Barrett told him why Nell’s parents had kicked her to the curb.
Instead, he had just sighed with his whole chest and poured himself another cup of coffee.
Minutes had passed.
Ron sipped. Barrett tapped. Ron sipped again. Barrett tapped quicker.
Barrett snapped. “Look, I know you have somereservationsabout her or whatever. But like it or not, she’s my girlfriend, and she needs a place to stay right now. She’s staying no matter what you think. So if you’re going to try and convince—”
“Of course she can stay.”
“—me otherwise then . . . Wait, what?”
“I’m not some monster who’s gonna turn away a girl who needs help. Especially not my nephew’s . . . girlfriend. She needs a place to stay. She can stay here as long as she needs.” Ron set down his mug.
Barrett blinked, nodding slowly. “Right. That’s a relief.” He’d expected more pushback.
“I still stand by what I said before, though. I don’t want her to hurt you, but I trust you to know what’s best. Plus”—for the first time, Ron’s lips quirked into a teasing smile—“I can’t believe you have a girlfriend.”
A wash of relief and embarrassment made Barrett throw his head back and laugh, shaking his curls. “I can’t either, honestly.”
“And it’sher.” Ron crossed his arms and shook his head in disbelief. “Wow.”
“I know.”
“Only took you, like, six years.”
“Shut up.”
* * *
Barrett slipped back into his bedroom, closing the door as silently behind him as he could.
Nell lay on her side, asleep with her back turned to him and his comforter pulled over her body. He took it all in.
Hisgirl in his bed.
He wished that the circumstances left more room for celebration, but he could behave.
He moved to slip out of his shirt, pulling it over his head and letting it fall into the full hamper in the corner of the room, and searched through his drawers for a clean one to change into.
“Scott?”
He jumped at her soft voice. He turned and found her sitting up, watching him.
Ditching the shirt, he walked across the room to her, sitting on the edge of the bed so he could grab her hand.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Is everything okay with Ron?”
Barrett smiled, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear and letting his thumb brush her cheek. “Of course. He’s fine with you staying.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “I’ll help around the house. I can cook some things. I promise I won’t just veg out the entire time, okay?”
