33. Warren
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
WARREN
W e’re finally back on the road after quite a few lazy beach days, driving up PCH to spend some time in the Bay Area.
I glance at my wrist resting on the open windowsill and smile at the friendship bracelet Kyle bought me. It means more than he probably even realizes. I’m beyond happy at this moment, and I never want it to end, even though I know it has to soon.
Fresh sea air fills the RV as we drive along the stunning coast, on our way to what might be the most epic surprise of this whole trip, and I’m a little nervous about his reaction.
“ So . . . I got another little surprise coming up tomorrow.”
“ Oh yeah? ” He sounds a little unsure.
“Mhm. Bucket list type of shit.”
“Uh. Now I’m scared,” he jokes with a hesitant chuckle. “What is it? I’d rather have the day to prepare.”
“You sure you wanna know?”
“Tell me, Ren.”
“ Fiiine, ” I concede. “A hot air balloon ride.”
“ No shit? ” Kyle asks in a slightly higher pitch.
“Yup. And it’s not just any ol’ hot air balloon ride. It’s a Napa Valley sunrise tour.”
“You’re telling me we gotta get up at the ass crack of dawn? On vacation?” Kyle whines. “That should be illegal.”
“Trust me, Ky. It’ll be worth it. Early morning is the best option; the atmosphere is clear, and the winds are gentle. Besides, it’s nothing a few cups of coffee won’t fix.”
“Okay. I’m in.”
“ Yes! ” I shout, fist-pumping into the air and making Kyle laugh.
I glance over, smiling at him before focusing back on the road.
Soon we’ll be in Napa, tasting the best wines and soaring over gorgeous vineyards.
I can’t fucking wait.
“Brooo . . .” Kyle exclaims, gazing around at the field of balloons with wide, unblinking eyes. “ No freaking way. ”
“Told you it’d be awesome and worth the five a.m. wake-up call.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says with a small smile and sleepy eyes.
I park Carmen in the grass lot outlined by a white fence and tall, beautiful sunflowers. We immediately hop out, excited to get going. There’s something thrilling about being awake this early and going on an adventure.
Not to mention, everything is stunning in the soft, morning light.
Expansive, rolling hills and rows of vines surround us, with dark, foggy mountains in the distance.
“Check-in’s over here,” I say, grabbing his hand and tugging him across the field toward a table set up outside an old wooden barn.
“Good morning. Welcome to Adrift, your premier Napa Valley hot air balloon company. I’m Clara. Who do I have the pleasure of checking in today?”
“Warren Moretti and Kyle Fitzpatrick,” I say to the kind-looking woman, giving Ky’s hand a reassuring squeeze. I know he’s excited about this excursion, but also a little nervous. Heights aren’t exactly his thing.
“Alright. Got you right here. Just sign these waivers, and you’re all set. You can go inside and enjoy coffee and croissants. The balloons are going through some pre-flight checks. They should be ready for takeoff in about half an hour. So please, relax and enjoy.”
Clara hands us each a clipboard, and we step to the side, allowing the family behind us to check in. I quickly sign my name without reading more than the title.
“Dude. Never do that,” Kyle admonishes. “You could have just signed your kidneys away.”
I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders. “I’m not too worried about it. I got two.”
Kyle huffs, rolling his eyes before he reads the entire waiver word for word and still hesitates to sign it. “Man, I don’t like this shit. It basically gives them a free pass if we die.”
“We’re not gonna die, Kyle,” I laugh. “Just sign the damn thing.”
Kyle grumbles under his breath before he signs the waiver, and we hand the clipboards back to Clara, heading for the barn.
I smile wide, admiring the dozens of light bulbs draped along the ceiling, tables of breakfast food, a coffee bar, and cozy wooden picnic tables with sunflower centerpieces. There are a handful of other people already inside, ranging from couples to large families. But I paid the extra fee for a private balloon ride.
Just Kyle and I.
“Let’s get some breakfast,” I suggest, desperately needing a coffee and sure Kyle needs at least two.
Grabbing plates, I hand one to Kyle as we make our way down the buffet table.
I choose a cream cheese croissant and some fresh fruit, wandering over to the coffee station to make Kyle’s just the way he likes it.
An extra-large cup with two creams and two sugars.
Luckily, they have different sizes to choose from, so I don’t have to make multiple trips for him.
“Here you go,” I say, handing him the coffee, and he takes a sip, closing his eyes and humming at the flavor.
“ Mmm. Thanks. I’ll grab us a picnic table, it looks like more people are arriving.”
I make my own hazelnut coffee with an extra shot of espresso before finding Kyle at one of the tables and sliding into the seat across from him.
“How much do I owe you for this balloon ride?” Kyle whispers before biting into his sausage, egg, and cheese croissant.
“Nothing. This one’s on me.”
His brows crease, and he shakes his head no.
“Seriously,” I assure him. “I know heights aren’t your thing, so I appreciate you being a good sport and indulging me. I wouldn’t make you pay.”
Kyle still seems a little unsure, but he nods, offering a quick thanks before sipping his coffee.
Shortly after we finish eating, a man walks in, ringing a cowbell to get our attention. “Alright everyone, listen up! It’s almost time to fly!” The crowd murmurs with excitement, eager to get started. “Take a look at the number on your ticket and please stand in the corresponding area to meet your pilot, where you’ll then be taken to a balloon. We have some safety protocols to go over before we take to the sky.”
Kyle and I make our way to number twelve where we meet our pilot, Amir, before following him out into the field.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Kyle mutters along the way.
I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be worth it.”
Kyle smiles at me sweetly as the early morning sun casts a golden halo around his blond head.
“Alright, boys. Here she is,” Amir announces, and I tear my gaze away from Kyle to focus on the balloon in front of us. It’s a patchwork quilt of bright, rainbow colors just like a lot of the others out here.
We climb into the wicker basket, and Amir finishes his last couple of checks. “Ready for launch?”
“Ready, Amir,” I answer for both of us, and Kyle grabs hold of my hand with a sweaty grip.
Fire shoots up from the burner, filling the balloon, and suddenly we’re off.
Kyle gasps, squeezing even tighter.
I wiggle my hand free from his death grip before he crushes my bones. “Be chill, dude. It’s fine. Amir’s a professional. I promise.”
Kyle isn’t convinced, moving his viselike grip to my forearm.
I close my eyes, feeling like I’m going up a never-ending elevator, but when the basket finally steadies and the adrenaline calms down, it’s truly incredible up here.
The vineyards look magical from above, gradually bathed in a golden glow as the sun fully rises. It’s stunning as we drift above wine country.
It doesn’t take long to become fully bright out, and then we can see everything in detail. Shadows from the other balloons dot the fields below, and low-hanging clouds act like a blanket of fog, covering the mountains in the distance.
“Everything looks so small,” Kyle murmurs, and I almost don’t hear him as the burner ignites once again, and we ascend even higher.
“Yeah, ’cause we’re so high up,” I shout over the wind.
Kyle’s eyes bulge like he’s only just now realizing we’re a couple thousand feet above the ground.
“Relax, Ky. Just feel how steady we are. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
I can’t tell how fast the balloon is actually moving, but soaring over the Napa Valley countryside feels like floating on a cloud and observing the world below like some sort of higher being.
It’s peaceful and serene once we get to top altitude, and I start to become accustomed to the constant roaring of the burner. I think Kyle does, too, because he relaxes some, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side.
I get my phone out, and we take a few selfies as well as some Polaroids, because there’s no fucking way I’m missing the chance to add this to our photo timeline.
I tuck the camera away to focus back on the moment because the here and now is fucking magnificent.
Breathtaking, actually.
Amir explains how the balloon utilizes the sun and the wind, as well as a brief history of Napa Valley, but then he turns his back to give us privacy.
My dude is getting a nice-ass tip.
I sink further into Kyle, sighing with complete contentment as I enjoy the ride.
This is the closest thing to flying that I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve always wanted to be a superhero.
“Warren?” Kyle asks softly.
“Yeah?” I whisper, turning my head to peer up at him. My stomach flips upside down, and it has nothing to do with the hot air balloon ride.
His blue eyes sparkle, and he leans down, pressing his lips to mine in the most romantic and tender kiss of my life.
This moment feels epic, transcending our friendship and linking us together forever.
I think I’m falling in love with him.
Ohmyfuckinggod.
The thought terrifies me, so I pull away, needing to stop before we get carried away and start making out in front of Amir.
We ooh and aah , pointing things out for the rest of the hour-long journey, laughing and kissing a few more times. But I can’t stop the overwhelming feelings from crowding my brain and taking over.
“Alright! Hold on to the red handle in front of you, boys! We’re going to land in ten,” Amir suddenly announces.
The balloon deflates slowly until we’re hovering above the ground, and the landing is so seamless that I let go of the handle in front of me like a roller coaster as we’re towed by the employees on the ground. We aren’t allowed off the balloon until it’s partially deflated, and then we climb over the basket, adrenaline pumping through our systems.
“That was unbelievable!” Kyle shouts, stumbling around on wobbly legs after standing in a floating basket for over an hour. “You are an astounding pilot, Amir. That ride was so smooth!”
“Thank you, thank you,” Amir replies with a bow. “The shuttle over there will transport you back to headquarters for mimosas, wine, and brunch. Thanks for flying with Adrift.”
We say our goodbyes and hop into a white van with the Adrift logo plastered on the side.
Apparently, you almost never land where you take off, so they advised us to wear comfortable walking shoes as well as provided transportation to home base.
We make it back to the barn, and my eyes light up when I see the brunch buffet. Even though it hasn’t been long since breakfast, I’m starving and load my plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes.
Kyle takes the same, plus hashbrowns, and we each grab a mimosa.
Carefully walking to the nearest open picnic table, we sit, digging into our food.
Kyle’s bright blue eyes sparkle, lighting up as he recounts the morning’s events with pure happiness. He faced a fear and had an amazing experience, one he’ll remember for the rest of his life. My heart swells when I see the pride and accomplishment on his face.
I did that.
For the second time in a matter of hours, I think I’m falling in love with my best friend.
And that freaks me the fuck out because I don’t know what’s going to happen when we’re back in Haven Creek.
“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Kyle’s soft words startle me out of my introspection, but I don’t move, continuing to lie with my arms crossed behind my head, staring up at the beautiful night sky.
“What are you doing up here?” he asks, and I decide to be completely honest.
“Just thinking about stuff. Been wondering what’s gonna happen between us when we get home.”
There’s a long pause before Kyle speaks so quietly I almost don’t hear him. “You’re not the only one.” He takes a seat next to me, crossing his legs and staring off into the distance.
I sigh, unable to let it go. “So, what does that mean? We just wait and see? Play it by ear?”
God, I hate that.
“I wish I had the answers, Ren, but I don’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Are you having a good time?” I ask, feeling somewhat vulnerable.
I’ve literally put my all into this trip.
He peers down at me, his brows scrunching together. “ Of course. Why would you even ask that?”
“Then that’s all that matters right now. We’ll worry about later when we have to.”
“Okay . . .” Kyle agrees, stretching out next to me.
We lie side by side, stargazing in frozen silence, like we’re savoring precious moments soon to be gone. The mood is somber, but that just won’t do when we’ve secured another week of vacation on the RV.
I roll to my side, propping my head up on my hand. “ Hey. Wanna know where we’re going next?”
A grin quirks his lips as he rolls over, facing me. “Duh.”
“ San Francisco, ” I say excitedly, watching in fascination as his eyes widen, lighting up under the moonlight.
“ Really? ” He’s so guileless and easygoing, like a golden retriever who’s kind and loyal for life.
God, I love making him happy.
Maybe I should just give up on the idea of being straight.
Because fucking hell, there’s really no way.
“I can’t believe we’re going to a Giants game,” Kyle says in awe as we walk down the wide sidewalk, cable cars passing us by on our way to the baseball stadium.
Thick palm trees line the center of the road as people jog and bike past us in the opposite direction. Everyone’s out and about, enjoying the beautiful, sunny day and the breeze from the bay.
“And not just any Giants game. We’re playing the Dodgers. It’s gonna be sick.”
Kyle and I have been Giants fans since we were kids, so I know he has to be as thrilled as I am right now.
We finally get to the entrance gate, and I take my Polaroid out, snapping a photo, while Kyle gets some with his phone.
Oracle Park. Home of the San Francisco Giants.
“Here, let’s try and get a selfie with the sign behind us.”
I can’t seem to position it right, struggling to hold the camera, but luckily a nice woman nearby takes pity on me and offers to snap the perfect Polaroid.
Kyle throws an arm around me, both of us beaming at the camera in our Giants baseball caps and matching orange and black T-shirts that we picked up at the gas station convenience store.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Kyle takes the camera back, and then we’re on our way.
“This is one of the best stadiums in the country, and a serious foodie destination,” I say, letting him know we’re about to chow down.
“Can’t fucking wait. I’m starving.”
We pass through the front gates, exploring the first level and checking out all the amazing food stands. There are so many options, but based on the blogs, I have a few obvious choices in mind.
“Let’s grab a beer!” I holler over the thrum of people around us, and we wait in a short line for two cans of Heineken.
Before Kyle can pop the tab, I place my hand over his. “Wait. Our seats are at the top of Levi’s Landing. Follow me.”
I pull my hand back, but Ky doesn’t let go, threading our fingers together and once again not caring who sees him holding a man’s hand. An excited thrill shoots through me whenever I get a peek at his possessive side.
“Wow, this is amazing,” Kyle says in awe as soon as we step onto the landing.
A stunning waterfront view of the bay opens up before us, and we immediately make our way to the railing, watching as boats and kayaks float in the water below. It’s like an escape from the commotion of the stadium behind us.
“Thanks for getting our tickets, Ren. I’ve never been to a Major League game before.”
“Me neither, bro. I’m glad we could do it together.”
Kyle puts his arm around my shoulders, giving me a quick squeeze. “Same.”
“Ready to sit down and crack these beers open?” I glance down at my smartwatch. “National Anthem and all that should be starting soon.”
Kyle’s baby blues light up with excitement. “Hell yeah.”
“Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey plays from the big speakers as I lead us a few rows down from the top of the landing. There really isn’t a bad seat in the house, but in my humble opinion, ours are some of the best.
And I’m not going to tell Kyle, but I paid a pretty penny for them, too.
Doesn’t matter, though. He’s worth it, and so is this trip. I can work overtime at the shop if I need to. Pops always needs mechanics.
I push thoughts of work away because right now, it’s just about me, Kyle, and baseball .
“These seats are incredible, Ren.” Kyle pops his beer open, taking a long swig before relaxing in his seat and gazing around at everything in wonder.
The game finally starts, and soon we’re deep into it.
“Let’s go, Giants!” Kyle chants politely, clapping and cheering when everyone else does. But there are some questionable calls happening, and I’m getting annoyed.
“Come on, blue! Put your glasses on! That was a strike!” I shout, making the people around us chuckle.
“Ren, stop heckling the umpire,” Kyle hisses under his breath like he’s embarrassed of me. But this is baseball, people are yelling way worse things at the guy than I am.
“ Fine. Fine. But I can’t watch these calls. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna get us something to eat.”
“Need any help?” Kyle asks.
“Nah. I’m good, just enjoy the game, man. I’ll be right back.”
He’s not going to be disappointed, I know exactly where I’m headed first.
I jog down the steps to the main level where all the food stands are located, searching for the legendary garlic fries I’ve promised myself.
Maybe I should have brought Kyle, because once I’ve secured the garlic fries as well as a crab sandwich and two more cans of beer, I’m walking back to our seats very, very slowly so I don’t drop anything.
This food was not cheap, but the look on Kyle's face is priceless.
I hand him the fries and a beer before taking my seat next to him.
“Oh my God, these fries are amazing,” Kyle moans after shoving four garlic fries into his mouth. “They don’t even need ketchup.”
I reach over and grab a few, savoring the greasy, garlicky flavor before Ky inhales them all. The crab sandwich is cut in half, so I hand one to Kyle, who immediately crunches into it.
“Oh, yeah. This is good too, man. Mmm.”
I take a big bite of my own sandwich, humming at the soft Dungeness crab piled between two slices of grilled sourdough.
We continue to eat, enjoying our beers and the baseball game.
This is perfect.
Right here, right now.
With my best friend.
I am beyond happy, and I think Kyle is too.
He smiles wide when I glance over at him, sauce on the corner of his mouth. I reach out and swipe it away with my thumb, offering him a wink before I return my attention to the game.
I can feel his gaze on me, but I ignore it, letting him stew in his feelings, hoping it’ll keep him close to me when this is all over.
Because how could he not be feeling the same things I am?
Everyone around us suddenly jumps up cheering, and I realize I was completely spaced out. I quickly hop up before Kyle notices, yelling when everyone else does.
“ Homerun! ” Kyle shouts, and the crowd goes wild.
I’m so distracted by my thoughts of Kyle that I missed that homerun.
I need to step away and clear my head . . .
Food. We need more food!
“Hey, Ky!” I holler over the thrum of the crowd. “There’s one more thing I want us to try. I’ll be right back.” I hop out of my seat, hurrying downstairs and making my way to the Ghirardelli ice cream stand.
Luckily, only a handful of people are ahead of me. “Hot fudge sundae, everything on it,” I order when it’s my turn and watch silently as the guy assembles my sundae.
Two scoops of ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, nuts, a square of chocolate, and a cherry on top later, I make my way back to Kyle.
“I present to you, the famous Ghirardelli hot fudge sundae with two spoons.”
Kyle’s eyes widen like a kid in a candy store, and I hand him a spoon, both of us digging in and humming at the flavor.
We share the sundae, not caring who’s watching as we sword fight with our plastic spoons for the last bite. And when the game’s over, we move with the crowd, hopping on a Muni bus to celebrate the Giants’ win.
“Let’s go see the city,” I whisper into Kyle’s ear, nipping at the lobe and making him shiver.
This is going to be fun.