Page 21 of The Bro Pact
“I can’t sleep there,” I whisper vulnerably.
He doesn’t even ask me why, he’s just there for me like I knew he would be.
“It’s okay, Ren. You can sleep in my bed.”
Kyle pulls his superhero covers back, and we slide into his twin-sized bed. Our foreheads press together as tears continue to fall silently down my cheeks.
“She left us,” I whimper. “She didn’t just leave Dad, she left Val and me, too.”
A keening cry pours from my lips, sounding more like a wounded animal than a human boy.
How could she do this?
I need my mom.
“Shh. Please don’t cry, Renny,” Kyle whispers, brushing my tears away with the back of his finger. “You can sleep in my bed whenever you need to. For as long as you want. You’re always welcome here.” He pulls me to his chest, hugging me tightly while I sob. “Always.”
Bright, morning light streams through the open curtains, waking me from a deep, restorative sleep.
Arching my back, I attempt to stretch, but I’m halted by a heavy weight across my chest. I crack one eye open to find myself tangled with Kyle. His big arm is pinning me down while his thick thigh is shoved between my legs, inches away from my morning wood.
Fuck.
This is bad.Really bad.
We have to share this bed for the rest of the trip, and if Kyle finds us like this, he’ll freak out.
I slowly scoot to the side, successfully slipping out of Kyle’s embrace without waking him.
That was a close call.
I definitely don’t want to ruin this trip before it even really starts.
It’s our last day at the dunes, and then we’re back on the road, so I quickly change into a pair of joggers, a black T-shirt, and another flannel. I bend over, gathering all of my hair onto the top of my head and tying it up in a knot.
I tiptoe to the kitchen, intent on cooking breakfast for a second day in a row.
Limited by the food we have from Kyle’s mom and the cooking capabilities of an RV kitchen, I do my best. I find a tube of biscuits and preheat the oven, popping them open as quietly as possible.
It’ll be a good laugh to serve him breakfast in bed the first morning after he sleeps with me.
As I’m placing the biscuit dough on the cookie sheet, a brilliant idea comes to mind.
I can use the cookie sheet as a sled.
Since I apparently suck at sandboarding, this will be perfect.
I scroll through the headlines and check my socials as the biscuits cook, making sure nothing crazy has happened in the last couple of days since we’ve been on the road trip, but also not really giving a shit.
It’s like Kyle and I are in our own little world out here.
When time is almost up, I get the ham and cheese out of the refrigerator and place them on the counter.
The silent alarm on my phone goes off, so I take the biscuits out, letting them cool for a minute, and sneak a peek at Kyle to make sure he’s still sleeping.
I cut the biscuits in half, layering the ham and cheese and making little sandwiches. I pop them back in the oven until the cheese melts, assembling two plates with a scoop of fruit.
Taking one to Kyle, I shout, “Rise and shine!” like I always do when he sleeps too long.
