“Just guy talk.”
He glanced up, startled, then tucked it into his pocket with a quick grin.
“Sorry, sis. Old habits.”
I remembered the winter he’d slept on our couch after his lease fell through, and how I’d made him grilled cheese at midnight while he cried about a girl whose name I couldn’t recall anymore. We had always been like that, he and I. Two against the world since we were kids.
“You doing okay?” I asked, softer.
“Better now that I’m here.” He looked at Bruce, and something passed between them, a quiet flicker I couldn’t quite read. “You picked a good spot.”
“Guy talk?” I teased.
“I am happy.”
