Griffin: No. Christ, what is wrong with you guys?

Brig: It was a valid question. You’re so closed off. We can’t read your mind, Griff.

Reid: But you were going to have sex, weren’t you?

Rogan: Just answer the question and we’ll leave you alone.

Griffin: Are you drunk, Rogue? When have you ever been interested in this shit?

Rogan: Just want to see my big brother happy.

Brig: Awww.

Reid: I think I might cry.

Griffin: Fuck off, all of you.

Brig: Just answer the question.

Griffin: Fine, yes, we were going home to get away from you nitwits so we could have some fucking privacy. So thanks for ruining that.

Reid: Baby laughing and falling over GIF

Rogan: Shaquille O’Neal shimmy GIF

Brig: Eighties aerobic teachers humping air GIF

Jen: Dawson’s Creek crying poor baby GIF

Grinding my teeth together, I pocket my phone and let out a deep sigh. Just chalk up today as another day I wish I were an only child.

God, how I wish I were an only child right about now.

“Thanks again, honey. We really appreciate you coming in today and staying late to help with the books.”

“Yup,” I say, a little terser than I would have preferred, but fuck, I’m not only hard up and tired, but I’m at my breaking point. I spent the afternoon and evening running around being the bitch boy, restocking, taking out the trash, and cleaning every last surface because my dad thinks making a mess is okay when he’s working.

It’s not.

Health-code violations and all that bullshit, so basically I was following closely behind him with a dustpan, cleaning up every last crumb he dropped on the floor.

I’m fried. All I want is to go to Ren’s house and spend the night in her bed.

“Dad went home to make some chili. Want to head on over to the house and have a bowl with us?”

I lean down and give my mom a hug and a peck on the cheek. “I’m actually going to head home. I’m beat.”

“But you’re going to eat dinner?”

I nod. “Yeah, maybe I’ll have Bart deliver me something.”

“Bart gave himself the upper hand when he added Uber Eats to his résumé. Wallace bitches and complains but does nothing about it. He should take a page from Bart’s book.”

Ahh, small-town life.

“He’s stubborn, Mom. I wouldn’t count on it.” I step toward the door and give her a wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, Griffin.”

Once I’m out of the shop, I quickly pull out my phone and shoot Ren a text.

Griffin: On my way.

My phone buzzes back right away.

Ren: Thank God. I thought you weren’t going to come over. That maybe you forgot.

Griffin: Believe me, there was no forgetting. That was the longest four hours of my life.

Ren: Mine too. I can’t wait to see your handsome face.

Griffin: I’m staying over. Just making that known right now.

Ren: I expect nothing less. As long as I get three hours of sleep, I’m good. Classes start Wednesday, so I don’t have to be fully functioning.

Griffin: Just what I need to hear. Be there in five.

The door flies open, and Ren is standing on the other side, a huge smile on her face, wearing a tank top—no bra—and a pair of short pink cotton shorts.

I charge into her house and slam the door shut right before she flings herself into my arms. I catch her with ease, spin her around, and press her against the hard wood of the door. Her legs wrap around my waist, and our mouths collide in a frenzy.

There is nothing coordinated about our kiss. It’s raw, needy, and half-sloppy with the way our tongues keep darting in and out of our mouths, both our hands grasping at each other’s hair.

“God, I needed this so bad,” I say, working my way down to her neck, where I start to lightly suck and lick my way up and down.

Her hands clasp my head, keeping me in place as her hips move against my already hardening length. One look at her in that tank top, nipples puckered, and I’m a goner.

“We need to move this to the bedroom, Griffin. I’m not going to be able to wait much longer.”

“Just give me a second to explore,” I mutter as I move the hem of her shirt up her body until I reach her breasts.

My hand rests right below them, her soft skin bouncing over it as she wiggles against me, seeking relief. “Touch me,” she whispers.

I don’t need to be asked twice. I lift her tank top up and over her head and let it fall to the ground. I groan when she thrusts one of her breasts into my hand and moans when I gently squeeze it.

“Seriously, Ren, your tits are so goddamn sexy. These nipples, so hard.” I flick at one, and her head lolls to the side, pleasure striking her. I flick the other, and she moans, her mouth parting. I continue to move between her two breasts, sucking, plucking, pinching, squeezing.

“Pants off. Forget the bedroom. I want you now.” She reaches between us and goes to grab my shirt just as there is a strong knock on her door. Holy fuck.

Ren grips me tightly and squeals.

“Honey, is everything okay?”

Ren’s head whips up to mine, eyes wide, pure fear in the dark of her pupils. “Holy shit, that’s my mom,” she whispers.

“Your mom?” I whisper-shout. “Christ.” I set Ren down, quickly pick up her tank top, and hand it over to her. She puts it on and starts to smooth out her hair as she looks down at my crotch.

“You have to do something about that. My mom can’t see how big your penis is.”

I look down and try to adjust myself, but there is no hope; I’m a turned-on motherfucker. “Why is your mom here?” I ask frantically, wishing my state of arousal would calm down.

“Ren, are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

“Oh God, I have no . . .” And then realization hits her. “They must have driven out here with the rest of my stuff to surprise me. They weren’t supposed to come until next month.”

“They?”

“My mom and dad.”

“Fuck, okay, I’m going to go out the back. I can’t meet your parents like this.” I glance down at my still-rock-hard crotch.

“You’re going home?” She looks sad.

Knock, knock. “Ren? Open up.”

“Be right there,” Ren shouts and then turns her gaze back to my crotch.

“I can’t stay here.”

She bites her bottom lip, her expression completely devastated.

I quickly pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her head. “Text me later.”

And with that, I head out the back of her house and wait a few minutes, trying to calm down, before painfully making my way to my house, my dick rubbing against the zipper of my jeans with every step I take.

Ren’s parents couldn’t have had worse timing.

No, scratch that—they could have had way worse timing. I guess I should be happy they showed up when they did; any later, and we would have been the ones knocking on the door.

I drag my hand over my face. Hell, I need a shower, a fucking long shower.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

REN

“Oh, this is just the cutest little place, Ren.” My mom sips the tea I made for her as my dad silently takes in the house, most likely assessing its framing and structure.

“Thank you. I really like it. I open my window at night to hear the ocean waves crash into the rocks. It’s really soothing. I’ve had some of my best sleeps here.”

“And everyone in town, they’re being nice?”

I nod. “Yup. I’ve made a few friends. Actually, I went camping with some of them yesterday. Good thing you didn’t arrive earlier, huh?” I nervously laugh, thankful I put a bra on before I answered the door.

“Oh, I wanted to, but your dad was such a sightseer the entire trip. He kept wanting to stop and take pictures in front of every state sign.”

“It’s called making memories,” my dad grumbles, his mustache waggling.

Funnily enough, though he might not look like it with his gruff exterior and dark cowboy hat, my dad is a real softy at heart.

“Yes, making memories. We had a great time doing that, but the end goal was my girl, and I couldn’t wait to see her.” My mom leans over and squeezes my hand.

Even though their timing was terrible, I’m still happy that they’re here.

“So what have you been up to?” My mom leans closer. “Have you hung out with that guy you were talking about? What was his name? Griffiths?”

“Griffin, Mom.”

“Ah, yes, Griffin. Have you been hanging out with him some more?”

If only she knew what she almost walked in on. Which reminds me: I should check on Griffin to make sure he got home okay.

I hold up my finger and say, “Give me one second, Mom; you reminded me of something.”

I send off a quick text to Griffin.

Ren: Did you get home okay? Did anyone see what you were . . . carrying in your pants?

Smiling, I turn back to my mom, who has a knowing look on her face.

Busted.

“Sorry about that.”

“Mm-hmm.” She nods and folds her arms across her chest. “Now, about this Griffin guy.”