Page 62 of The Bro Pact
I can’t deny the satisfaction that comes from blowing his mind, as confusing as it is for my own sexuality.
I have been firmly straight forever. Not even a doubt in my mind.
But now, I just don’t know.
Am I bi? Or am I just gay for Ren?
My thoughts are endless, but there’s one that seems to be the loudest.
I want to do it again.
“We should go out. I feel like celebrating this newfound superpower I’ve unlocked, or rather,youunlocked. Seriously, Kyle. I never knew what a prostate even felt like! My mind is blown. Youhaveto let me try it on you.”
“Uh . . . I think I’ll pass on that particular experience.” The truth is, I don’t see that for myself. But what I do think about is sliding into Ren’s tight, hot ass with my bare cock instead of my fingers. “But I’m down to go to a bar and celebrate finger-banging my best bro.”
Ren tips his head back, roaring with laughter, and I join in.
He finally settles down, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Dude. No you did not. That is fucking savage!” he hoots. “And you know I love it.”
Ren requests an Uber, then we quickly eat a frozen pizza and get ready to go out.
We sit in the backseat together for the short ride to the bar, holding hands.
The closest town to our campsite shares a name with Ren’s ex-fling, and I peer at him out of the corner of my eye to see if he notices.
Welcome to Page, Arizonais scrawled across a giant concrete block in the middle of the desert.
“Fuckin’ Paige,” Warren mumbles, shaking his head. “First time I’ve thought about her this entire trip if I’m being honest.”
Good.
I don’t want him thinking about her anymore . . . I want him to think about me.
When we arrive, we thank our driver and eagerly hop out, ready for a cold beer.
The bar is also a brewery that seems like a pretty chill hangout spot. It’s rustic and comfortable, instantly putting me at ease.
Overstuffed black leather couches line one wall, with a giant wood-burning stove in the middle that’s not lit. Old wine barrels act as cocktail tables scattered throughout. The bar itself is in the back, and it’shuge.
“Wow.This place is sick,” Ren murmurs.
The ceiling is vaulted, lined with wooden planks and exposed metal pipes. We pass an old fermentation vessel used for decoration, and I’m really just feeling the whole vibe.
I hum my agreement, grabbing Ren’s hand without thinking and tugging him toward the back of the bar. “Looks like they have a nice selection of craft beers.”
“I’m gonna need to try at least five,” Ren says, and I turn my head, side-eyeing him while we walk. “What?” he asks, sounding defensive. “That would be me holding back. Not only do I want to try them all, I also want to support local, small businesses.”
I grumble and Ren just laughs, knowing I can’t argue with the business aspect.
We choose two seats at one end, and the woman behind the bar walks over to us. Her purple hair is shaved on the bottom and pulled up into a messy bun.
“Nice hair,” she says, complimenting Ren’s man bun.
“Ditto,” he replies with a charismatic smile.
“I’m Janie. What can I get for ya? Gonna need to see some ID from you boys though.”
Ren smiles wide, showing all his teeth, and brandishing his excellent fake ID. “Of course, Janie. I’m Ren and this is Kyle. Can I get aHoptimus Prime?”
