2. Kyle
CHAPTER TWO
KYLE
I can’t believe Marissa fucking dumped me. Just like that. As if we weren’t each other’s firsts. As if I meant nothing to her. She wants to spread her wings and not be tied down at nineteen, and I get that, but it sucks to be the one left behind.
Everything was planned; my future laid out. I wanted to go to law school, get married, have two-point-five kids, and a white picket fence. I thought I found that with Marissa, but I guess I was wrong.
“Rise and shine!” a smooth voice calls out before the curtains are yanked back and bright sunlight assaults my closed lids.
I tug the covers over my head, blocking it out. “Go away, Ren. I’m still sleeping,” I mumble in a groggy voice.
“I’m tired of waiting for your lazy ass to get up. I’m bored. It’s noon. ” Something crunches as he moves around my room, messing with shit.
“ So? I’m moping. My girlfriend just dumped me. Leave me be.”
My covers are ripped away, the intense light temporarily blinding me until my senses adjust. “Hey! I could’ve been fucking naked under here, dude!” I whine, annoyed that he won’t let me wallow alone.
“And that was a risk I was willing to take, now get your ass up! It’s a beautiful Saturday morning—sunny and warm, with a perfectly clear forecast. You know what that means. Throw the bikes in the back of my truck and let’s hit the trails.”
That’s what we do in Haven Creek, Colorado. We mountain bike in the summer and snowboard in the winter. Warren and I have been doing both since our training wheels first came off. But today . . . today, I just don’t feel like it.
Warren doesn’t give up. He never does. “Do you remember our conversation by the bonfire last night?” When I don’t answer right away, he sighs in exasperation. “Ky, you’re such a lightweight. The pact? Ring any bells?”
Oh. Right. The pact.
“No girls for three months,” I murmur, trying to imagine what that might actually mean for me this summer.
No girls. No sex. No complications.
“Yup. And an epic RV road trip with your best friend that you’ll be able to tell your grandkids about one day. You won’t even think about what’s-her-face. We’ll be too busy having the time of our lives. Trust me, Ky. ”
I’m still not completely convinced. Ren always has these crazy ideas, but I do trust him. And as I sit here on my childhood bed, in the Spiderman pajama pants my mom bought me last Christmas, I come to an important conclusion.
I need to get the fuck out of my parents’ house.
Stat.
“I’m in.” For some reason, it feels a little more real saying those words in the light of day, without the haze of alcohol. “What can I do?”
“First, let me ask Pops about the RV. See if he’ll give me a shot at fixing it up in exchange for borrowing it.”
“Sounds good, man. Now get the fuck outta my room.” I wrench the covers back and pull them over my head. “I wasn’t done sleeping.”
“Nope. Uh, uh. Get your ass up. Now! ” Warren once again rips the blankets away, this time smacking my butt afterward.
“Bro, come on!” I shout in annoyance.
Can’t he just leave me alone sometimes?
I want to mope.
“We’re biking today. You can’t say no.” I swear, Ren is like an annoying, enthusiastic puppy sometimes. His dark hair is pulled into a top knot, and his gray eyes sparkle with an impatient sort of energy that he’s had since we were kids.
Huffing with a bit of indignation and a lot of surrender, I climb from my warm, cozy bed and make my way to the bathroom. “ Fine. Give me ten.”
Warren’s right. It’s near impossible to say no to him, and he’s definitely gotten us into some trouble over the years because of it.
“ Yes! ” Ren hoots, pumping his fist into the air. “I’ll be in the truck.” He slips from my bedroom, leaving me to get ready alone.
I wash up in a hurry, changing into my favorite long-sleeve cycling jersey and matching blue shorts. I sneak into the kitchen, hoping to avoid my mom. I know she’s home, and I don’t feel like having a conversation about Marissa right now. She’d want to talk about it, and I just can’t.
I fill my water bottle and stuff a few protein bars into my small biking backpack. Lastly, I slip my phone and charger into the waterproof pouch inside and leave through the garage, flipping the switch to open the door.
My bike is resting in the corner where I left it, so I wheel it over to the big silver truck parked in the driveway. I thank my lucky stars that I make it without being intercepted by either of my parents.
Ren climbs out to help me lift it into the back of his truck and secure it with a bungee cord. Then we’re on our way.
Pulling the visor down, I gaze into the tiny mirror and run my fingers through my hair a few times. I didn’t comb it this morning, and I hope I don’t look like a complete mess.
As if he can read my mind, Ren reaches over and ruffles my hair, messing it up further. “Your hair looks fine, Ky. You’re about to put your helmet on anyway.” He chuckles, resting an elbow on the windowsill and getting comfortable with one hand on the wheel.
For some strange reason, I blush, staring out the passenger window in silence. Neither of us talk much for the rest of the drive. We both seem to be lost in memories of the previous day.
It takes less than forty-five minutes to arrive at the new trail Ren wants to conquer—Monarch Crest—and soon enough we pull into a small dirt parking lot. Only a few other trucks are tucked into the shaded areas, making me think this place isn’t well known.
Ren kills the engine, and we hop out. I wander over to his side of the truck, gazing at the tall pines and towering mountains around us. It looks the same as any other bike trail, but I know Ren’s excited about this one in particular. I’m just not sure why.
“Your mom packed us lunch.” Ren’s gray eyes light up before he opens the backseat, pulling out an actual wicker picnic basket—complete with a red and white checkered interior—and I can’t help but burst out laughing.
How the hell did I miss that back there?
“Knew it’d make you laugh,” he says with a satisfied little smirk.
Ren is the best medicine for a shitty mood. Always has been. It’s nearly impossible to be down in the dumps around him.
“Damn, Mama Carol makes the best potato salad. I can’t wait.” He stares longingly at the picnic basket. “She put ice packs in there, so I guess I’ll just leave it in the back for now. Sucks our mountain bikes don’t come with a front basket,” he says as he sighs dramatically.
My mom has a massive soft spot for Ren, and she loves spoiling him like another son. He’s basically part of the family at this point.
Ren grabs our helmets from the backseat before he climbs into the bed of the truck and unhooks our bikes, slowly lowering them one at a time.
His biceps and pecs bulge, seeming more prominent than usual in his skintight cycling jersey.
“You going to the gym without me?” I ask, offering him a hand. He takes it, hopping off the open tailgate.
“Nah. You know I’ve been working more at the shop, trying to save up for my own place. Guess I’ve just been lifting more car shit.”
I hum my agreement, wishing I had any hope of moving out of my parents’ house, but I’m taking too many classes to be able to afford rent, and I’d rather focus on my studies anyway. Law school is really important to me, and I can’t fuck up my undergrad GPA.
We walk our bikes to the start of the trail where there’s a small wooden sign with a simple butterfly engraved into it. A monarch, I’m guessing.
“Make sure you stay on the path, Ren.” I sound like a nag, but he really does need a reminder each and every time, considering he nearly impaled himself on a branch last summer.
“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. You ready?” he asks with a twinkle in his bright eyes.
“Let’s do this?—”
Before I can finish, Ren slips his sunglasses on, hops on his bike, and bolts down the dirt path in front of us, disappearing into the forest.
“ Fucker! Wait for me!” I holler, laughing loudly as I buckle my helmet and take off, pedaling as hard as I can.
The wind feels good whipping against my face as I race down the bumpy trail. I inhale deeply, enjoying the rich scents of the forest. Fresh pine mixes with the earthiness of the detritus around us, and my smile widens as I allow nature to elevate my mood.
Warren is fast on a mountain bike, and he starts to pull farther ahead.
“It’s not a race!” I call out, hoping he can hear me.
“But if it was, I’d be winning!” he yells back, and I chuckle, rolling my eyes.
Ren picks up his pace, and I lose sight of him for what feels like ten minutes before I catch up, spotting him on the incline ahead.
He’s standing up and pedaling strenuously. His shorts are practically painted on, and I don’t know why I do it, but my eyes dart down, staring at his ass as it clenches over and over, working hard to get him up the steep hill.
I swerve, nearly flying off the trail before righting the handlebars once again.
Jesus Christ.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
It must be the breakup. My head’s all messed up.
Focusing on the trail again instead of staring at my best friend’s ass, I stand up like Ren did to get through this next incline and finally catch up to him.
“Hey, asshole! Wait for me!” I call out, and he glances over his shoulder, smirking as he tries to get away.
We race down the hill, probably faster than we should, but I feel so carefree when I’m out here in the middle of nowhere with Ren.
I fly over a small creek, water misting my legs, and I finally start to gain on him when he suddenly makes a hard right turn.
“What the fuck?!” I shout, slowing down and nearly losing control when I swerve where my idiot best friend just did.
This side trail is much more narrow, and I don’t understand why he’d take it, or how he even saw it.
“ Goddammit, ” I mumble to myself.
Ren is long gone, and now I’m on a skinny, unfamiliar path with gnarly branches reaching toward me as I whiz by.
“ This sucks, ” I mutter, nearly ready to turn around and go back, but I keep pedaling, sure I’ll catch up to him sooner or later.
After a few more minutes, something bright catches my eye, flickering between the trees in the distance. My eyes narrow, trying to make out what it is.
As I get closer, the forest thins out, and a glistening sapphire lake appears. Thousands of tiny crystals dance across the surface, while majestic pines surround the unblemished shore, and snow-capped mountains stand sentry in the distance.
It’s breathtaking.
A real-life postcard.
Movement pulls my gaze from the beautiful scenery, and I spot Warren walking toward the water in a pair of black briefs. His bike is off to the side, leaning against a tree, and his clothes are dangling over the handlebars.
I didn’t plan on swimming today, but Ren’s magnetism is hard to resist.
Always has been.
I walk my bike over to his and fold the kickstand out with my foot, propping it up. I undress quickly and run after him in a pair of tighty-whities with a wicked grin on my face.
He’s still on the shore, standing at the edge of the water and contemplating his next move, when he finally glances over and sees me, but it’s too late. I bend in half, scooping him up over my shoulder and walking into the cold lake.
“Fuck, Ky! Don’t you do it!” he hollers, laughing all the while. He braces his hands on my hips and squeezes in an attempt to keep steady.
“I told you to stay on the goddamn trail, and you didn’t listen,” I scold, my stomach clenching as I step further into the frigid water. “This is your punishment. Better get ready,” I tease in a sing-song voice, ignoring my own goosebumps. “Five. Four. Three?—”
Before I even finish the countdown, I grab him under the armpits and toss his slightly smaller body into the cold-as-fuck lake.
He pops up a second later, sputtering as he attempts to wipe the water from his face. “Fuck! It’s f-freezing!”
Ren swims further out, despite the cold, reaching up to release his bun. He tips his head back, dipping his long hair into the lake and smoothing it. “Feels good though, when you get used to it. You should come over here.”
I continue to stand, knee-deep in freezing lake water, debating whether he’s going to try to get me back somehow.
“ Come on. Afraid your junk will shrivel up and disappear or something?” he teases. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. You know I won’t judge.”
“Ha. Ha. Fuck off,” I chuckle, wading further out. I drop my weight and go under the surface before I can change my mind.
The water is take-your-breath-away cold, and I immediately pop back up, gasping and sputtering for air.
As soon as I get my bearings, I find Ren laughing at me nearby. “Feels good though, huh?”
“No. It really doesn’t. I prefer to enjoy the beauty of this place from the shore,” I retort, even though I continue to swim after him.
He doesn’t stop, his lithe frame cutting through the water effortlessly.
“What are we doing, Ren?” I yell as he starts to get further away.
“You’ll see! Just follow me!” he calls over his shoulder, continuing to swim toward the center of the lake.
I’m getting tired and a little worried until I spot a small floating dock up ahead. It’s old and wooden but seems to be in decent condition, with a metal ladder attached.
Ren climbs up first, helping me out of the water next.
We lie down in our underwear, closing our eyes and allowing the sun to warm us up and dry us out.
There’s nothing but the sound of water lapping at the dock, birds chirping in the trees, and our own breathing.
It’s peaceful here, without technology and the modern world bogging us down.
Just the two of us, and I relish it.
I think this road trip is going to be just what we both need.
“This is nice,” I finally say, first to break the silence.
I have no idea how long we’ve been lying here, but my hair is almost dry when I run my fingers through it.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, and I turn my head, staring at his profile illuminated in the sunlight.
His aristocratic nose is strong, with a dusting of freckles across the bridge. Thick black eyelashes rest on his cheekbones, curled enough to make any girl jealous. His jawline is sharp and defined, but his lips are full and pink.
Soft.
Ren suddenly turns his head, and we stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.
“You creepin’ on me?” he asks as a lopsided grin quirks his lips, steely eyes roaming my face quizzically.
I brush him off. “Psh. Ha. Very funny.”
My brows crease with worry as I close my eyes and face the sun once again.
Was I really just checking him out?
We continue to lie in silence, soaking up the first of the summer’s rays.
“Man, I do not want to swim back,” Warren suddenly announces, and I take a deep breath, dreading the idea of getting back into the chilly water.
But sometimes it’s best to just rip the Band-Aid off.
Without saying a word, I stand up and quietly dive into the lake. I emerge, sucking in a sharp breath of air as my lungs are once again shocked stupid and screaming at me because of the cold.
“Hey! Wait up!” Ren shouts before I hear a splash behind me.
I take off across the lake, alternating between a sidestroke and breaststroke. I was on the swim team freshman and sophomore year of high school before I solely focused on lacrosse.
I got this.
“Winner gets first dibs on the picnic basket!” I shout.
“ You cheater! ” he cries out, and I’m sure he’s swimming twice as hard now.
He’s desperate for that potato salad.
Soon enough, my toes touch the sandy bottom, and then I’m on dry land once again, panting, with my hands on my knees.
Warren joins me a moment later, chest heaving like his life depends on it.
“You. Fucking. Suck,” he pants, and I just chuckle, walking over to our stuff.
We turn our backs to each other and slip out of our soaked underwear, putting our cycling shorts back on without the wet fabric underneath. “Let’s go eat,” I say, struggling to get my torso into the skintight biking shirt.
We grab our bikes, slip our helmets on, and head for the trail. We ride just as fast on the way back, if not faster, desperate to get to the truck and finally have our picnic.