9. Kyle
CHAPTER NINE
KYLE
“ T old you the cookie sheet would make a good sled,” Ren says cockily, slowly turning his hot dogs in the flames.
He likes them burnt, and that’s just gross.
We’re lounging in our fabric folding chairs in front of the campfire, cooking dinner, and listening to some of the music Ren downloaded to his phone before we left.
I’m not even sure what it is. It kinda sounds like chick music, but I like it.
Today was exhausting, so I guzzle half my Jack and Coke to get the buzz going as I think back to the afternoon filled with sandboarding and cookie sheet riding.
It was wild.
And I wouldn’t change a thing.
“You flew down that hill faster than I thought you could, considering you just cooked our breakfast on your sled,” I admit, laughing loudly and ending with a hiccup. “I hope it wasn’t still hot. Did you burn your ass?”
“Ha. Ha. Drunkie.” Warren rolls his eyes. “No, of course I didn’t burn my ass. Wanna check?” he asks, standing up as if he’s going to turn around and yank his pants down.
But he’s wobbling slightly, and way too close to the fire.
I dart to my feet, grabbing his hips and squeezing with a little force. “Watch it, Ren. You're the one who’s too drunk.” I stare intently into his storm-gray eyes, slowly reaching for the potentially dangerous skewer in his hands.
Our fingers brush as I take it from him, setting our hot dogs on my plate.
“Hey! I wasn’t done cooking those! They’re barely charred,” he shouts, but I think it’s time for us to eat our hot dogs, put out the fire, and go to bed.
“I think you are,” I say sternly, not wanting to deal with him impaling himself on a skewer.
“Whatever, Kyle.” He plops back down in his chair. “Give me some buns.”
I place all four hot dogs in buns and hand the two nearly burnt ones over. Ren grabs them, piling on the ketchup, mustard, and relish.
I crinkle my nose and add a single stripe of mustard to mine before sprinkling chips on both of our plates.
We dig in, nearly inhaling our food in a drunken rush.
The Jack and Coke is really starting to kick in, and since Ren’s smaller than me, I know it’s hitting him harder.
When we’re done, I stack our plates, taking them to the trash can inside the RV and refilling our drinks while I’m there.
I step outside, carrying a red plastic cup in each hand, but as soon as my feet touch the ground I look up and freeze.
Ren’s dancing around the fire, and the way he’s moving is so expressive .
Hypnotized, I take my seat in the stiff chair once again, setting our drinks on the tree-stump table next to me while I watch the show.
The music picks up, and Ren starts to leap around like he’s not completely drunk off his ass.
And I can’t stop watching him.
He’s captivating, and maybe it’s just the alcohol mixed with loneliness, but my dick starts to plump up. I lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees, staring at him through the flickering flames.
The song changes and “Wildest Dreams” pours from the speakers.
“ This is my jam! ” Warren shouts, darting over to the back of the RV and climbing the ladder like he’s in a hurry.
Once he’s on the roof, he starts to spin around in circles, and my eyes nearly pop out of my head as he gets too close to the edge.
Fuck!
I jump out of my chair in alarm, quickly chasing after him and climbing to the roof.
He continues to dance under the stars, ignoring my presence as if I’m not even here at all.
“Careful, Ren,” I plead, holding my hands out in front of me, ready to grab him.
He’s getting too close.
Jesus Christ.
I’m too intoxicated to handle this right now.
We both are.
“I’m fiiine,” he insists, closing his eyes and spinning with no care as to whether he flies off or not.
“ Ren, stop! ” I yell, but he still doesn’t listen.
Enough is enough, so I reach out and grab his lean waist, squeezing firmly. “ I said stop. Before you fall off and break your fucking legs.”
Fully aware that I’m manhandling him but not giving a single shit about it, I pull his body to mine, wrapping my arms around him before he gets himself hurt.
My heart is pounding fiercely. “What the fuck are you doing, Ren?”
He stares up at me, a glassy sheen to his half-lidded eyes. “Dancing like no one’s watching. What are you doing, Ky?” He says it so simply. So matter-of-fact.
The moon reflects in his gray eyes, making them glow silver. I swallow thickly, my stomach feeling a little unsettled.
Must be all the Jack and Coke.
“I think we should go to bed,” I whisper, continuing to hold him in my arms, where he seems to fit just right.
Marissa was tiny. Delicate even.
There’s something different about having a man in my arms.
Something I’ve never even considered.
Something nice.
A tendril of inky hair blows free from Ren’s half-ponytail and without thinking, I reach up, tucking it behind his ear while I stare at him intently.
He doesn’t say a word, staying comfortably enclosed in my arms.
Time seems to slow, but the moon’s still there.
In his eyes.
Twinkling.
I lean forward, out of my head for a moment, my lips inching closer to his.
The music suddenly cuts off, and the utter silence pulls me back to reality. I step away, making sure he’s steady before I let go of his biceps.
“We should go to bed,” I repeat in a whisper, gesturing toward the ladder.
Ren nods like he’s already half-asleep, and we climb down carefully. I grab his phone and kick sand over the remaining embers before locking the door behind us.
Steering Ren to the bedroom, I point to the end of the bed. “Sit.”
He plops down, and I kneel in front of him, glancing up and making eye contact for a brief moment before I slip his Converse off.
“Be right back.” I hop up, wandering into the kitchen and rummaging through the drawers for the ibuprofen. I dump a couple of pills into my palm and fill a glass with water.
When I return, I find Ren half-naked in bed.
He’s already out of his pants and is currently peeling his T-shirt over his head.
I swallow thickly, attempting to ignore the attraction.
I probably just need to jerk off. It’s been way too long.
“Here, take these.” My voice cracks on the last word like some sort of horny teenager.
“Thanks,” Warren murmurs, swallowing the pills and drinking half the water, too drunk to notice my lingering gaze and complete awkwardness.
Against my will, my eyes dart down to his crotch. The bulge in his underwear is big , making me wonder things I have no business wondering about.
I shake my head, climbing into my side of the bed fully dressed as if I can use my clothing as some sort of barrier against my lustful and intrusive thoughts.
It’s none of my business whether or not he has an erection.
Or how big it is.
“Let’s go to sleep,” I mutter, letting the exhaustion pull me under.
“So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going, Magic Mike ?” I ask, teasing Ren with the nickname. He’s relaxed behind the wheel with his hair down and a HSU baseball cap on, not a hangover in sight.
We left the dunes an hour ago and stopped at a little diner on the side of the road for coffee and donuts. Now that we’re fueled up on caffeine and sugar, we’re ready to go.
“Ha. Ha. You know I like to dance when I get drunk,” he chuckles with no remorse and zero shame. “And yes, I’ll tell you. We’re going to Moab, Utah, but there’s a surprise stop along the way. And I won’t tell you what that is, so don’t ask.” There’s an excited sparkle in his eyes that worries me a little. “We have about four and a half hours left on the drive.”
I’ve never been to Moab before, but I know there are tons of outdoorsy things to do.
“What are we doing in Moab?” I ask, even though I’m not holding my breath for an answer. Ren seems to enjoy making things a surprise.
“Not tellin’.” He smiles wide, grabbing a string of licorice and tearing off a piece with his front teeth.
It’s fine, though. Really.
For once in my life, I like not knowing. Not being in charge. It’s relaxing and somewhat of a relief to let someone else handle things. Despite his wild tendencies, I trust Ren completely, and there’s no doubt he’ll show us a good time.
A few hours later, we stop at an old gas station off the highway to fill up, and I step out to stretch my legs.
“Of course you have to prepay with cash out here in the middle of nowhere. Jesus Christ, ” Ren mutters.
“I’ll go with you,” I say. “It’s my turn to pay for gas anyway, and I want some Skittles.”
The little bell above the door chimes as I push it open, stepping into the tiny desert convenience store.
As I walk to the end of the first aisle, looking for my candy of choice, I notice the clerk behind the counter following Ren with interested eyes.
He’s not much older than us, mid-twenties maybe, and he’s got that surfer look going on with long, unruly blond hair and tan skin. Out here, I’d guess he’s probably a rock climber.
I grab a bag of Skittles and stalk toward him while he practically salivates over my best friend.
I clear my throat to gain his attention. “Forty bucks on pump two.”
I glance down at his nametag.
“Thanks, Justin .”
His eyes flicker my way as he punches buttons on the register before scanning the Skittles.
Ren takes that moment to run up behind me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and slapping a bag of sour gummy worms and a Slim Jim on the counter.
“Your turn for gas means your turn for snacks,” he snickers. “Thanks, bro.”
Ren leaves in a whirlwind—off to pump gas—before I can even say a word. Justin’s eyes follow him the whole way back to the RV and continually dart out the window while he scans the rest of the items, placing everything in a plastic bag and reading me my total.
I wait for my change, but before I can escape out of there, Justin shocks me with a bold question I was not expecting. “Are you two together, or can I get your friend’s number?”
I pause, caught off guard, as my mind scrambles for a sufficient response.
“ No. ”
A simple answer to both questions.
Satisfied with myself, I grab the bag and leave in a hurry, unable to wrap my mind around the fact that he thought we were together.
As in, gay .
Why would he think that?
Ren’s still pumping gas when I return, so I climb into the passenger seat in a daze, tear open my Skittles, and pour some into my mouth while I wait.
I seriously can’t believe that guy thought we were boyfriends.
Do we give off that vibe?
I’m startled out of my internal panic when Ren pops into view through the open driver’s side door.
“Hey, man. Wanna pull around back and make sandwiches? Then we can get right back on the highway after we eat,” Ren suggests, clearly eager to get to the next destination.
I stare at my best friend for a moment, paying a little more attention to what he’s wearing today besides the baseball cap. He’s in a pair of light-wash jeans with a hundred rips in them, and a tight white tank top that shows off his nipple piercing. But just because I can recognize the fact that Ren’s extremely good-looking, and possibly even sexy, it doesn’t mean that I’m gay or bi.
And neither is Ren.
I dart a glare toward the gas station, knowing Justin is on the other side of the dirty glass, probably staring at us like a stalker. “Nah. Let’s go somewhere else. This place gives me the creeps.”
“Okay,” Ren chuckles, completely oblivious. “Like where?”
“I saw a sign for a duck pond down the road. I bet no one’s even there.”
Ren bursts out laughing. “ A duck pond? ”
“What?” I ask defensively. “You used to love watching the ducks with my mom when we were kids.”
“It’s just so random,” he chuckles.
I shrug nonchalantly, even though I’m itching to get out of here. “It’ll be fun. Besides, it’s only two miles down the road,” I say, pointing in the direction he needs to go.
When we turn down the gravel road, we drive for about a mile before we get to a deserted parking lot across from a quaint little pond. Lily pads float along the slightly green surface and tall grasses line the perimeter.
As soon as Ren parks, my seatbelt is off and I’m up. “I’m gonna make sandwiches,” I declare.
When lunch is ready, Ren grabs our favorite throw and we climb to the roof, laying the blanket down to enjoy lunch in the sunshine.
It’s nothing special, just ham and cheese again, but it hits the spot nonetheless.
Ren finishes first, lying back to stare at the clouds, and I join him shortly after.
It’s become a routine of sorts—spending time up here on the roof—stargazing at night and cloud watching during the day.
“That one looks like an axolotl,” I say, pointing to the cloud straight above him with a big round head and little wispy things coming off the sides.
“ A what? ” Ren laughs, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye and scrunching his brows.
“Never mind,” I chuckle, not even knowing how to describe the strange little creature.
“Look!” Ren shouts with glee. “There’s totally a dick and balls over there!”
He points, and my gaze follows. I tilt my head to the side slightly until I see it.
“Yep. Sure is,” I confirm.
We burst out laughing, continuing to laze in the warmth of the sun as we watch clouds float by and listen to ducks quacking in the distance.
I feel cozy, full, and content, like I could fall asleep right now.
Ren slips his tank top off and folds his arms behind his head, getting even more comfortable. I glance over, doing a double take as I notice something about him that I’ve never noticed before.
“You shave your pits, dude? Isn’t that kinda gay?” I accidentally blurt out, a little surprised and a lot rude. But Warren just brushes it off with an easy smile like he always does.
“Nah, bro. It’s not gay. It’s manscaping. The chicks dig it, and that’s not all I shave either...” He pauses for a moment as if he’s thinking intensely, and I can’t help but let my gaze travel across his torso that’s starting to glisten with a slight sheen of sweat. His chest is muscular and smooth, and I trace the contours, my eyes snagging on the single nipple piercing that I sat with him through. It hurt too much for him to do the other, so he settled for one. Continuing down his defined abs, I catch sight of dark stubble leading into his jeans.
I’ve never paid attention before . . .
I shake my head, focusing back on the conversation instead of continuing to check out my best friend.
Something must be wrong with my head.
Maybe I’m dehydrated.
“But actually, fuck that,” Warren shouts. “No girls for three months, remember? I’m growing a bush!” He tips his head back, cackling wildly at his own crass joke.
His chest shakes with laughter and his abs bunch up, drawing my eye yet again. I glance away, grabbing my water bottle and chugging half of it, hoping to forget these strange feelings I’ve been having way too often lately.