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Georgie's POV
After dinner, Mary—overjoyed that Veronica had agreed to come to the picnic—decided she should stay the night.
Of course, she called Veronica's mother to ask for permission.
I watched as Mary's initially cheerful expression twitched into something less enthusiastic.
"…Your mom said it's fine." Mary said, her smile looking slightly forced.
I could already guess what Veronica's mother had said.
She probably didn't care.
"Alright… Thanks, Mary." Veronica said softly, nodding.
I could see her small smile, but her voice held a trace of sadness.
"Alright," I said, breaking the moment. "You can sleep in my room—I'll take the couch."
"…Is that really okay?" she murmured, looking at me.
"It's fine! I can stay up late without anyone bothering me" I grinned and bringing her to my room.
Veronica nodded and stepped into my room. "Pretty clean… for a boy." she teased with a smirk.
"I like cleanliness-" I said, but before I could finish, Missy passed by my door, "Pfft… yeah, right," she snorted.
I turned to glare at her. "Hey! Kids should be in bed right now!"
Missy just stuck her tongue out and shut her door.
Veronica giggled at the exchange before turning back to me.
"So… are you comfortable with all this?" I said and looking at her smiling face. "Oh yeah. It's more comfortable than my house, I guess." she murmured.
"Alright… You can borrow some of my clothes if you don't want to wear yours to the picnic tomorrow. Or if you'd rather, you can borrow something from my mom," I said, walking over to my closet. "Just not this one—this is my underwear drawer." I added, pointing it out with a smirk.
Veronica chuckled but nodded. She glanced at the closet and drawers I had indicated.
"Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked carefully.
"I don't mind, as long as you're comfortable here," I assured her. Then, handing her a hanger, I added, "You can hang your clothes here… anything else?"
Veronica smiled and shook her head. "It's okay… Thanks."
"Alright… If you need anything, just call me." I said before stepping out and closing the door behind me.
I walked into the living room, where George and Mary were still sitting.
"Is Veronica comfortable in your room?" Mary asked, looking at me.
"Yeah, I guess." I shrugged. Honestly, I wasn't sure if she was completely comfortable, but she said she was, so that was good enough for me.
"So… what do we need to buy tomorrow?" George asked trying to avoid Mary's glare.
I could tell he was purposely ignoring Mary's growing irritation—especially since neither of us was going to the picnic because of this whole brisket situation.
"Well… we'll need beef, cumin, brown sugar, smoked paprika, and dried mustard. I think Mom has some of the ingredients left, so I'll check tomorrow." I said, also ignoring Mary's glare.
To be honest, when I said I didn't know Memaw's full brisket recipe, I wasn't lying. Even in Young Sheldon, Sheldon only ever mentioned a few of the spices—he never said anything about how it was actually cooked or if there were other secret ingredients.
George nodded, satisfied.
Mary, on the other hand, finally lost her patience. "Seriously?! Over a damn brisket?!" she burst out.
"Mom…" I sighed, looking at her.
Both Mary and George stared at me, waiting for an explanation. "…Do you still have the ingredients I mentioned?" I asked instead.
George smirked—only for his smirk to disappear the moment Mary shot him a look.
"You're not going to the picnic… because of a brisket recipe?!"
"Well… I just don't want to go," I admitted casually. "Besides, I think Pastor Jeff will be thrilled that I won't be there tomorrow."
I turned my attention back to the TV, ignoring the way Mary's expression darkened.
Well… at least Dad had my back on this one.
"You two are unbelievable!" Mary huffed before standing up and heading toward her room.
George sighed, realizing that fun time was officially over, and got up to follow her.
"Don't stay up too late—we're cooking brisket first thing in the morning," George reminded me, patting my shoulder.
I nodded, but before I relax my body, I felt his hand still resting on my shoulder.
Then, I looked up at him.
"You've got a girl in your room… I don't want any funny business in my house. Do you understand?" he said sternly.
"…Yes, sir…" I gulped.
George grunted in approval before walking off without another word.
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3rd POV - In the middle of the night
Veronica lay in Georgie's bed, struggling to fall asleep. No matter how much she tossed and turned, she just couldn't get comfortable.
Eventually, she sighed and got up, quietly stepping out of the room to get some water.
"You can't sleep either?"
The sudden voice startled her, and she turned toward the couch—where she saw Georgie grinning, a guitar resting on his lap.
"What are you doing? Can't sleep either?" she asked.
Georgie shrugged, holding up his notebook. "Not really. Just trying to get inspiration for a new song."
"Really?" Veronica glanced at his notebook as she walked closer. "Is it the same song from before?" she asked, referencing the snippet he had sung for her in the car.
Georgie scratched his cheek. "Not really… I like country music, but I want something more… You know, something with a rock vibe… but still feels like home."
Veronica pouted slightly, a little annoyed that the song he was working on wasn't a love song.
But instead of sulking, she showed genuine enthusiasm for his writing, "Didn't you already write one? What was it called? The World?" she asked, flipping through the pages.
"Yeah, but I want something more… sacred.." Georgie murmured, inching closer to her.
Veronica didn't pull away. Instead, she snuggled against him, looking at his lyrics.
"God's Country?" she read aloud.
"Yep."
"Pfft… Really? You think America is God's Country?" Veronica teased, tilting her head to look at him.
"Not exactly… It's more like… I want to thank God for this place. And…" Georgie pulled her closer.
"I want to thank God… for this beautiful girl in my arms right now."
Veronica smiled before leaning in to kiss him.
Their kiss deepened—slowly growing more heated as Veronica, completely lost in the moment, let herself be consumed by desire.
Georgie wasn't resisting either.
As she pulled away slightly, her breath was heavy, her gaze filled with longing.
Just as Georgie swallowed and was about to lift her into his arms—
"Ahem!"
A loud throat clearing made them both freeze.
Their heads snapped toward the sound—where they saw George, standing behind the couch, staring right at them.
Veronica immediately scrambled away from Georgie, face burning with embarrassment.
"I-I'm sorry!" she squeaked before bolting past George, eyes glued to the floor.
"It's okay… It's Georgie's fault." George muttered—but his words only made it worse for her.
"Tch."
Georgie clicked his tongue, glaring at his dad.
George smirked, leaning closer and silently mouthing:
"Not on my watch."
Georgie grumbled, flopping back onto the couch in frustration.
Meanwhile, George snorted, watching his son sulk.
Honestly?
He loved shutting them down—because he had been in the exact same position once.
And just like that, he chuckled to himself as he walked into the bathroom, still smirking the whole way.