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“Ah shit, the fun-killer is here,” my grandpa says with a snort, holding the pipe out to me.
“No thanks,” I say, sitting down next to Ryan and leaning my head back against the couch. “You know, Pops is gonna be mad that it smells like smoke in here. He doesn’t approve of marijuana being smoked in the house. And it is still illegal here in Kansas.”
“So what?” Ryan says with a snort. “We left a window open. And Mom has been known to indulge occasionally.”
I stare at the cracked window and then run a hand over my face. “Yeah? Didn’t know that.”
“That’s okay, we all have our weaknesses.”
My lips twitch at his teasing. Ryan is a bit much, but he grows on you. Grew on me pretty fast. He’s hard not to like.
“Where were you tonight? I went over to watch a movie with you but you were mysteriously gone,” Ryan says as my grandpa takes a large inhale of his pipe and blows it out. Smoke wafts over to me, and I purse my lips. I don’t feel like getting a second-hand high. I’m not much of a stoner.
“With a friend.”
Ryan shoves my shoulder and then scoots closer to me, tugging on my ear. “What friend? A guy friend? A girl friend? A sex friend?”
I stare at my grandpa, who looks about ready to fall asleep, and then say softly, “A guy. Not really my friend.”
“Who isn’t friends with you? Is it that Braxton kid who hates you?”
I feel my cheeks flush red, and Ryan chuckles loudly, making my grandpa snort awake.
“Jesus, Royan, settle down.”
“Ralph, stop being an asshole. You know my name.” He chucks a pillow at my grandpa and it misses him by a mile.
My grandpa snorts again and then closes his eyes, the pipe resting on his lap. I stand up and take it from him before he starts a fire and burns our house down. My dad would for sure be more mad about that than the weed.
Wrenching the window open a bit more, because I’m getting high just being in this room, I recline my grandpa’s chair back a bit more so his back doesn’t ache and then decide that maybe I should head home. I cover my grandpa up with a thick blanket and then walk toward my own place. Ryan, of course, follows, his eyes bloodshot, his movements a little sloppy.
“Wait up, bro,” he says, and I slow my steps so he can hop on my back.
I carry him all the way to my place and then he hops down, falling into the door and making the entire house rattle.
“Geez, Royan, get it together.”
“Oh, shut up with that name,” he says with an eye roll. “You know my name is Ryan. I’m so sick of your shit.”
Even as he says it, his eyes twinkle and his lips turn up in a mischievous smile. He doesn’t mind being teased. One time, a lady at the local diner mistook his name for Diane and he endedup adopting the name for an entire month. We couldn’t call him anything else.
“So bro, tell me everything that happened tonight,” he says when we make it to my room. He flops down onto my bed and then wiggles around, trying to get comfortable. I stare at him and sigh. This isn’t the first time my stepbrother has stayed in my bed. Usually uninvited, but then again, he is a cuddly cat when he wants to be.
Would rather be cuddling with Braxton though.
“Ryan, come on. I just want to go to bed. It’s been a busy night.” And I can still taste Braxton on my lips.
I probably wasn’t going to sleep, was just gonna lay awake and replay that kiss over and over, the feel of Braxton’s lips scraping against my mouth, the way his dick felt pressed against mine. Makes me all sorts of horny. And I don’t wanna be like that with Ryan next to me.
I shudder at the thought. No thank you.
“Oh come on, but I’m tired too,” he says, leaning up and pulling his shirt off, exposing his pierced nipples and the tattoos on his chest.
Wonder if Braxton has those too? I wouldn’t mind looking to see. Bet he has a nice chest.
“Not the pants,” I say as Ryan lifts his hips up and starts to kick his jeans off. They get stuck halfway down his thighs and he sighs in frustration.
“Take my pants off, Jimmybobby, I’m too high to function. I can’t feel my fingers. They’re like hot dogs attached to my palms.” He lifts his hand up to his face and stares at it before putting one in his mouth and scrunching his nose. “Definitely not hot dogs. Kind of bland.”
