Page 104 of Hey, Stepbro

"Isn't this amazing?" Blakely shouts. "I love how warm the water is here."

Blakely looks absolutely breathtaking—like some kind of ethereal sea god. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I chuckle.

"Definitely beats going to class." I splash Blakely playfully.

He retaliates with a splash of his own, and soon we're locked in an all-out water war, laughing until our sides ache.

"Truce." I hold up my hands in surrender. "I’m drenched."

"Agreed. But let's not forget the best part about being on vacation—the drinks."

Blakely leads me towards the nearby beach bar. We take a seat on the stools, the warm sand tickling our toes as we peruse the menu.

"Two mojitos, please," Blakely tells the bartender.

"Fancy," I drawl.

"Isn't it great that we don't have to use fake IDs here?" Blakely says. "Being nineteen has its perks in Mexico."

"Here’s to being young, wild, and free."

When we get our drinks, we clink our glasses, then both take a sip of the refreshing cocktails. They’re crisp and delicious.

Blakely rests his head on my shoulder. "I’m hungry. That football wasn’t easy—I don't know how you do it. I could go for some seafood."

"Two orders of fish tacos,por favor," I tell the bartender, who nods.

"Look at you using Spanish." Blakely squeezes my thigh. "You didn’t tell me you were bilingual."

"Chúpame la puta verga."

"Quédoes that mean?"

"You don't want to know," I tease.

While we wait for our tacos, we watch the lively scene around us—men dancing to the upbeat music, couples holding hands as they stroll along the shoreline, and groups of friends laughing together in the water.

"I love this. Everyone is so... free," I observe.

Blakely holds my hand. "I'm glad there are places like this where our community can come together and be who we truly are, without fear or judgment."

"It makes everything we've gone through worth it, knowing that we can celebrate our love like this," I say.

"Absolutely."

Blakely rubs his tummy when our food arrives. We dig into the flavorful tacos, savoring each bite as we soak up the vibrant atmosphere.

Between mouthfuls, Blakely gestures towards a group of people playing beach volleyball nearby. "Look at them—having a blast like we were."

"Here's to mojitos, tacos, and Mexico." I raise my mojito in a toast. "May we always find places like this to call home."

"Cheers to that." Blakely clinks his glass against mine before taking a sip.

Just then, a trio of college students approaches us. "Hey, you two want to join us for some strip poker under the gazebo?"

Blakely raises an eyebrow at me, gauging my reaction. I shrug playfully, the buzz of my mojito loosening my inhibitions. "Why not? Sounds like fun."

"Awesome!" one guy exclaims, clapping his hands with excitement. "We're about to start a new game. Come on over!"

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