31. Warren
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
WARREN
“ G oddammit , Warren. It’s always something with you,” my dad grumbles over the phone, and I can’t really blame him. No news is generally good news when it comes to me. If I’m calling, I’m either in trouble or asking for a favor.
“Come on, Pops. We’re already all the way out here, and we don’t wanna come home yet. Please. ”
“Listen, son. I got a buyer lined up, ready to see the RV. One week, ya hear? No more,” my dad finally agrees, just like I knew he would.
“Yes, sir. One week. Thank you so much, Pops.” I’m doing a jig inside, even though I keep my voice even and calm.
“And bring ’er back in pristine condition. Ready to sell.”
“Will do.”
“I mean it, Warren.”
“I promise, Pops. You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve trusted me for two weeks. What’s one more?”
My dad grunts into the phone, and I say goodbye, ending the call. I’ve never been as grateful that my dad isn’t a talker as I am right now.
I spin around, smiling wide at Kyle. “We got another week.”
“I heard.” His baby-blue eyes sparkle with excitement and a dash of lust.
“ Soo . . . ” I say, drawing the word out. “Beach or fucking?”
Kyle pretends to ponder the question, pursing his lips and tapping his chin. “How about ice cream, beach, and then fucking? I want to take advantage of the sun and sand as much as we can.”
Sounds like a perfect day to me.
“Can I try some?” Kyle asks, licking his boring-ass double scoop of vanilla.
I couldn’t decide so I got a triple scoop waffle cone filled with pistachio almond, birthday cake, and cookies n’ cream.
“Not my fault you like vanilla,” I retort with a little smirk before I cover it with a mouthful of creamy, bright green ice cream.
“ Hey! You’re seriously still gonna call me vanilla after everything we’ve done?” Kyle asks, pursing his lips and making me want to kiss the frown away. He looks offended, and I feel a little bad.
“Touché,” I admit, glancing down at his cone and seeing nothing but a polar bear in a blizzard. “You do like plain shit though.”
“Except when it comes to you.” His reply is smooth and swift.
I’m speechless for a moment, letting his words sink in.
My heart skips a beat as he leans forward, pressing his mouth to mine without even glancing around to check if anyone’s looking first.
But I soon realize it was a diversion tactic when the sneaky bastard steals a lick of my ice cream, swiping his tongue from bottom to top and making my dick chub up in the process.
Shit.
There are families here for fuck’s sake.
“Not a combination I’d personally choose, but to each their own,” Kyles declares, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth while his taste buds register the assault of flavors.
He licks his plush lips then takes a big, slurping bite of his own vanilla ice cream, and all my dirty mind can think about is him doing the same thing to my cock, slipping into a mini daydream.
His hot, wet mouth slobbering all over me, making out with my dick and sucking on my balls.
I shrug nonchalantly, tearing my gaze away from Kyle’s mouth, peering out at the ocean, and praying I don’t trip on an uneven wooden slat and fall face-first on my boner. I take a purposefully large bite of ice cream, and sure enough, the epic brain freeze wilts my inappropriate hardness.
We stroll down the oceanfront boardwalk, enjoying the salty sea breeze, white-capped waves, and all the quaint little shops along the way. It’s beautiful here. Peaceful. Everything and everyone is relaxed and unrushed, as if they’re living in a permanent state of vacation .
Seagulls continue their low, piercing calls, occasionally landing nearby to grab a lone french fry or scrap of food. The quiet camaraderie is nice, and I appreciate how comfortable we both feel around each other. This trip has brought us so much closer, not that I’d point that out to Kyle. I don’t think he’s ready to open his eyes to the truth of what this thing between us could become.
A few more minutes of walking, and I’m finally ready to take a bite of the best part—the homemade waffle cone. Trailing my tongue along the perimeter, I catch the drips before they can land on my hand and make an annoying, sticky mess.
The loud crunch after all that soft ice cream is so satisfying, I immediately take another bite before swallowing the first.
Kyle chuckles, nibbling politely on his own cone. “ Good? ”
“ Mhm, ” I moan, and soon enough we’re both done, tossing our napkins into the trashcan before we’re off to explore the rest of the boardwalk.
We pass a funky, handmade jewelry store, and Kyle suddenly veers in that direction.
“I gotta go pee. I’m gonna duck in here real quick.”
“’Kay.” I plop down on the bench outside, leaning my head against the brick exterior and resting my hands on my full belly. I could use a little break anyway.
“Be right back,” Kyle says, disappearing into the shop, and I give him a lazy wave in return.
I rest my eyes for a moment, enjoying the sunshine on my face while I wait for Kyle to take a piss.
A gentle hand shakes my shoulder, softly rousing me.
“Sorry. I must have dozed off,” I murmur.
“Wanna sit under the gazebos over there and get out of the sun for a minute? You look tired,” he says thoughtfully, running long fingers through my hair and scratching at my scalp.
“ Mmm. Let’s go, then,” I mutter, ready to lay my head in his lap and take a nap.
Kyle leads us to the small, round gazebo perched on top of a cement platform that overlooks the ocean. Built-in benches line the perimeter, and I immediately plop down while he continues to stand there, peering down at me while the Pacific Ocean crashes and roars in the background.
It’s kinda romantic.
“You gonna propose or somethin’?” I joke, severing the intensity of the moment and making Kyle roll his eyes.
“Remember how we had friendship bracelets when we were kids?”
“ Yeah . . . ” I reply slowly, drawing the word out in confusion at such a random question.
However, I immediately picture the braided strings that we wore until they literally fell apart.
“Here, catch!” Kyle’s baby blues sparkle with excitement, and my hand goes up on instinct, successfully catching the small brown thing hurtling my way.
I stare down at the braided leather bracelet resting in my palm.
I turn it over, examining the craftsmanship, and an unexpected lump forms in my throat.
The letter K is branded into it.
“I’ve got the W ,” he whispers, holding up his wrist to show me his matching bracelet.
I’m speechless.
“You got these in there? Just now? ”
Kyle nods slowly, his smile never fading.
“Fuck, bro. I love it,” I choke out, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him into a fierce hug. “ Seriously. This is awesome, and such an upgrade from when we were twelve,” I joke.
“I was devastated when that thing disintegrated,” Kyle adds dramatically.
“ Same. So, thank you. Really. ” I hope he understands just how much this bracelet means to me, but just in case he doesn’t, I’m ready to show him. “ Let’s go home. ”