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It wasn’t the first time Barrett woke up to an empty bed after having a female guest.

It was the first time he’d woken up fully clothed on the bedroom floor.

Janelle had somehow managed to sneak off of his rickety old bed without waking him, which was an impressive feat.

At least he’d had the whole weekend to digest it all: the drastic change in her mellowed personality to the glimpses of the bubbly girl he recognized from high school to the realization that their stark differences had long hidden surprising similarities.

They were more alike than he’d thought.

That thought both delighted and frightened him. He didn’t like to get too close to people. Yet there he’d been, giving out one of his secrets to her like it was Halloween candy.

But he did have a reason. She’d shared hers.

He wouldn’t call it “getting close”, per se. More like returning a favor.

* * *

He spent the following days strumming chords of the new song Dennis had picked out for their newest gig. It was at a bar bigger than The Pour House, some place owned by Dennis’s uncle, but it was a gig nonetheless.

When they performed on Saturday night, the crowd seemed to like them—a success in his book. Better than staying in The Pour House the entire time, not making any progress toward their dreams.

In their drunken, post-show celebrations and the subsequent drive home, he failed to mention anything about his happenings with Janelle. Partially on purpose.

He figured they might think he was pulling one on them because there was no way in hell they would believe she would give him the time of day.

Except maybe Toni, who had witnessed a thing or two, but even he wouldn’t believe she’d willingly left her pretty two-story colonial for a night in his house.

He barely believed it had happened either, since she’d disappeared and he’d not heard a peep since.

Which was a relief, of course.

Barrett was ready for his day off from work on Monday, excited to sleep in and do a hell of a lot of nothing.

Instead, he was woken about an hour earlier than planned by the clamorous rattling ring of the telephone in the kitchen.

He groaned into his pillow and forced himself to slowly rise. Ron had left for work before sunrise, so answering phones and opening doors—if need be—was up to him.

He yawned and scratched his bare chest as he leaned against the counter and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” His greeting swirled with a leftover yawn.

“Dude, did you just wake up?”

Toni’s judgment was potent enough to reach through Barrett’s half-asleep mind. In the background of the call, he could hear the rhythm of some song playing over the store radio. Toni was obviously working.

“It’s 10:30. I shouldn’t be awake at all.” Barrett ran a hand through his hair. “Why the hell are you calling me right now?”

“Someone is looking for you here.”

“Ugh, I don’t care. Tell them I’m off until tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

“No duh. Of course I’m sure. No work calls on my days off.”

“You really sure?” Toni dragged out the words, and Barrett rolled his eyes. “You’re not even going to ask who?”

“I don’t give a shit who it is. I’m not coming in.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure to tell Janelle Duncan you said that.”

Barrett’s lazy slouch snapped straight, and his tired brain jumped to full alert. His teeth clanked together as his jaw snapped shut, and he hissed out his next words. “Don’t you fucking dare say anything to her. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He hung up the phone to the sound of Toni’s chuckling on the other end.

* * *

On the drive over, he wondered if this was some practical joke, but when he pulled to the curb in front of the shop, his worries were pointless. Janelle’s bike was leaning against the display window.

He hesitated in his seat and peered through said window to see if he could catch a glimpse of her. All he saw was Toni bagging up something for a customer, but no sign of her.

Barrett filled his lungs with enough air to make him float and gathered the nerve to get out of his van.

The shop door tinkled its familiar chime as he walked in. Toni had put on some older album that rang through the speakers, and the store was bright and lively for a Tuesday morning.

Barrett found Janelle immediately, in almost the exact same spot she’d stood last time, staring at the guitars hung on the wall.

In one hand, he carried a book that he’d brought with him, while the other fiddled with his rings.

He glanced at the front counter, where Toni was sporting a shit-eating grin.

Barrett flipped him off then looked back at the girl whom he’d washed his face, brushed his hair, and put on his favorite black shirt for.

Taking another deep gulp of breath, he cleared his throat and approached.

“It’s a Sigma DM3,” he said with a practiced salesman appraisal and studied the sleek body of the acoustic guitar she was staring at.

The air shifted as she jumped at the sound of his voice.

He smiled softly. “A great choice for beginners.”

She was quiet for a few moments before she answered, “I like it.” Her voice lacked the twinkling that it had when she was carefree and high. Now it was back to the same polite, mellow tone it had been before.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” He turned to her, tucking his hands behind his back so she couldn’t see his fidgeting or the book he’d brought.

“Oh, umm . . .” She reached into the pocket of her high-waisted jeans and pulled out something green and wadded up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave with it.”

He blinked down at the cash—double his usual rate, just like they’d agreed. He forgot things quite often, but he had never forgotten to take payment. “I didn’t even realize.”

“About that night . . .” She trailed off, her voice soft as she looked to the side and bit her lip.

Barrett tilted his head and waited for her to continue.

“I said some . . . stuff. I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about what I said. I’m sure you can imagine it wouldn’t go over well if my parents found out.”

Barrett raised a brow. “Oh, that?”

She gave a curt nod. “Yes. That .”

The corner of his mouth rose, and he huffed a soft laugh. Janelle looked up at him, her brow furrowed and worried.

“In case you haven’t heard, I’m too busy performing satanic rituals to worry about outing someone else’s business,” he said.

Her bottom lip sucked into her mouth.

Barrett wasn’t good at focusing on what he should, so his rebellious eyes caught sight of the movement and followed it, before his mind reminded him that he shouldn’t and directed his attention to the crease between her brows.

He softened his tone. “You have nothing to worry about. I won’t tell a soul. ”

The effect his assurance had on her was unmistakable. Her shoulders dropped, and an audible sigh of relief made him study her like she was a confusing but pretty painting.

“Thank you.” She met his eyes for the first time that day, and he welcomed the warmth in her blue gaze. Despite her newly dark and rough exterior, her eyes were consistent with the softness he believed was there. “I should go.”

She turned to leave, but Barrett jumped to block her path. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast.” He kept the book behind his back but held the other hand out in a halting motion between them. “Since you were kind enough to bring my payment, I have something for you too.”

“What?”

He enjoyed the confusion wrinkling her nose.

At last, he revealed his final card. The beginner guitar book she had tried to steal was still damaged from the rain, but it was readable—he’d checked.

“This one isn’t bad, but I do have a few other recommendations if you’re interested.”

She stared at the book. “This is—”

“Yours. A gift from me to you.”

Her eyes snapped up to him.

They both knew that wasn’t true. The misshapen pages were a clear reminder of the stormy day she had unsuccessfully tried her hand at shoplifting.

“I can’t.”

“You can. And you will.” He would not take no for an answer.

He’d considered this book hers since the minute she’d dropped it.

He’d just been terrible at remembering to return it to its rightful owner.

“But if you want my advice, a book will only get you so far. What you need is real hands-on practice to fully learn an instrument.”

The idea seemed to be growing on her. She nodded slowly, then paused and shook her head. “I don’t have a guitar.”

“I do.” Barrett grinned. “I’ll be your teacher.”

She jumped, her eyes blinking at the pace of his heart, which was sprinting. “You’ll what?”

“Be your teacher. I play guitar. You want to learn. I’m more than happy to volunteer my time.”

She huffed a soft laugh that twitched her lips up in an unsure, minuscule smile that showed she couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “Well, uh, thank you but—”

“You want to learn your friend’s song, right?”

Her mouth snapped shut, and her eyes grew so big he could see her entire irises. “Yes.”

“Great. When are you free?”

Once again, her lip sucked into her mouth, and Barrett glanced at it then back to her eyes. He couldn’t make up his mind on which was his favorite.

But then he got an even nicer surprise.

Her nervous smile lifted, and he was greeted with a peek of the girl he’d seen the other night. It wasn’t forced or with the help of anything else.

It was just her, smiling softly at him. “Okay then.”