36. Kyle
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
KYLE
Y ou know that depressing feeling when vacation’s over, the perfect illusion is shattered, and you’re back to the everyday grind of life?
Well, it completely sucks balls, and that’s where I’m at.
No more seeing the world, no more stargazing on top of the RV, and no more sleeping in the same bed as Ren every night.
Summer school just started, and Warren’s been working nonstop at the garage, so we’ve hardly had any time together.
Not to mention Marissa keeps calling and texting me incessantly, especially now that I’m home. Ren still doesn’t know, and it makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong, even though I haven’t responded to any of her messages.
She wants to talk.
Made a mistake.
Wants me back.
But all I can think about is Ren .
Kissing him.
Fucking him.
Seeing more of the world with him.
But there’s also this nagging voice in the back of my head urging me to follow the path I set for myself long before I fell for my best friend. And that voice is telling me to man up and call Marissa back—she deserves a second chance. I loved her.
I’ve never felt so confused in all my life; it’s like two different sides of myself are warring with each other.
Marissa is the logical choice that lines up with my future and my career plans.
But Warren is the passionate, all-consuming, kiss-you-under-the-stars choice.
I mean, if I was gay. Or bi.
But I’m not.
Right?
Just as I’m teetering on the edge of breaking the pact and possibly even our friendship by calling Marissa back and telling her let’s try again, my phone buzzes.
It’s Ren.
An instant calm settles over me, and I tap the green button right away. “Hey, bro.”
Ren’s way-too-good-looking face fills my screen. “Hey, Ky. What’s up? How’s summer school going?”
I sigh deeply. “I’m already regretting it, to be honest. Guess my mind’s a little distracted right now.”
The truth is, I haven’t been able to concentrate in class, and I’m worried about my first macro exam. This gay crisis stuff is too much for me to handle, especially considering I never once questioned it before this trip with Ren.
“I know what you mean,” Ren agrees with a tired sigh. “I don’t really feel like working on cars this summer either. It’s been hard, man. I wish we were back on the road, stopping wherever we want and doing whatever we want.”
“ Same, ” I whisper, draped in a blanket of melancholy.
“Maybe next year we should plan our trip at the end of summer so we can look forward to it instead of being a couple of Eeyores for two months,” he suggests.
I chuckle because I was thinking the exact same thing, not enjoying these prolonged sad-boy feelings one bit.
“Hey, you know what? Let’s turn this pity party around and go out this weekend. A bunch of people from school are.”
“I don’t know, man.” Even though I want to see Ren, I don’t really feel like going out.
“And that’s exactly why you need to come out with me.”
I sigh, releasing a loud whoosh of air.
“ Rusty’s is having a four-dollar special, ” he sing-songs.
“Fiiine,” I say, giving in to Ren like I always do. “Who’s gonna be there?”
I guess I could use some sort of jolt back to reality, because I’ve been in a serious funk ever since our trip ended.
“Um . . . Val, some of her girlfriends, and a few of the guys like Coop, Aaron, and Josh. Oh, and possibly your brother if he catches wind that Val will be there. I can pick you up at eight on Friday, and we could grab a bite to eat first. If you want.”
“Sounds good to me, but I’ll drive. You did more than enough driving on our trip.”
“You can leave your truck in the back of Rusty’s. Coop’s older brother is the manager. I’ll just order an Uber home ’cause you’re definitely drinking with me, Ky.” Warren’s smile is so charming and so focused on me that I forget all about Marissa’s texts when I’m talking to him.
“Deal.” I smile back, looking forward to spending some quality time with him.
The moment we hang up, I’m brought back to reality when a handful of buzzes vibrate my phone.
Speak of the devil—it’s Marissa again.
I need to forget about all the question marks in my life and get wasted this weekend.
It’s Friday night, and we’re both drunk, stumbling to my truck parked in the back of the bar parking lot. As soon as we climb in, Ren crawls onto my lap, straddling me.
“ What are you doing? ” I gasp out, grabbing his waist in an attempt to steady him.
He starts kissing my neck in a hurry. “Exactly what I’ve been thinking about and dreaming about nonstop. What I’ve been dying to do ever since we got home and went to our separate houses.” Warren licks and sucks his way over to my lips, devouring them.
He shoves his tongue deep inside my mouth until I can taste the whiskey he’s been drinking all night.
I should be embarrassed of the whimper I make, but I’m not.
I’m too far gone to care.
Too horny for him and too fucking needy.
“ God, Ren. I’ve missed your lips. I’ve missed you. ”
We continue to make out in my truck like a couple of desperate high schoolers with nowhere to go but their car. Ren grinds his erection into my stomach, and I groan, wanting more.
“ Backseat, ” I whisper, panting against his lips. “Let’s move this to the backseat.”
Ren slips off my lap and ungracefully flops over the center console, falling to the floor. He throws his head back, belting out a loud laugh before he crawls onto the bench seats, waiting for me with an intense and focused look in his eyes, despite the alcohol running through his veins.
I climb through without falling and settle on the seat next to him, staring at his mouth.
God, I want him.
His mouth is on mine again, devouring me with a sense of urgency that makes my toes curl. He slips his hands under my shirt, running smooth fingertips along the grooves of my abdominals before teasing my nipples.
I slip my shirt off, allowing him easier access to feel me up. My dick is so hard, it’s straining against my zipper, and I’m eager to get these jeans off next.
But before either of us can reach for my belt buckle, a loud knock on the window startles us apart.
I jump off him, knocking my head against the ceiling. “ Shit. ”
The glass is tinted, so I know whoever’s out there can’t see, but it still has my heart racing at the idea of being caught.
“Dude, it’s Nelson,” Ren hisses under his breath as I scramble to get my shirt on and crawl back up front.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Not my brother.
Ren joins me, slumping against the window and pretending to be asleep.
“Good idea,” I whisper, running my fingers through my hair a few times before I roll the window down.
“Hey, Nelson. What’s up?” I ask, and his eyes dart further into the truck cabin when a loud, fake snore tears from Ren’s throat.
I bite my lip, holding back the laughter.
“I was just coming to see where you two ran off to.” His nosey gaze darts back to me.
“Well, congrats. You found us. Now, goodnight. I need to get him home,” I say without question.
“I saw you throwing back shots in there. You can’t possibly think you’re driving.”
“So happy you care, brother, but no, of course I’m not driving. We’re waiting for our ride.” I hold my phone up, waggling it in front of his face.
Blue balls are starting to set in, and I’m getting cranky. I miss the RV, our freedom, and most of all, I realize how much I miss having our own space.
If we can’t find a place to be together or be comfortable in public, then what’s the point of trying to make this work?
Clearly, we aren’t meant to be.
“Our ride’s here, if you’ll excuse us, Nelson.” I shake Ren, and he pretends to startle awake.
My brother seems to finally take the hint and slinks back inside Rusty’s, once again leaving us alone.
Luckily, Ren’s too drunk to notice the fact that I’ve completely checked out and clammed up when we hop into our rideshare, prepared to act like we’re nothing more than two drunk bros ready to be dropped off at separate houses.
Because we don’t actually live together and probably never will.
The RV was a one-time anomaly.
And maybe we were, too.