Page 96 of The Bro Pact
“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.”
