The memory of the twelve-year-old Gray in all his nerdy anger, spewing out facts of vitamin deficiency, still makes me smile. Brett was scary, about twice as wide as Gray and me and a whole head taller, and yet, Gray had stood up for me.
What made the whole incident even more impressive was the fact that neither Gray nor I were some sort of schoolyard vigilantes, hardened by our constant fight against middle school injustice.
We were two scrawny preteens, doing our best not to get noticed too much, but once somebody wronged me, Gray was there, braving the very real threat of a black eye and a broken nose.
“To this day, I can’t believe you did that,” I say quietly.
“You would have done the same for me.”
I’m getting stupidly emotional. This needs to end right now. Too few hours of sleep and a naked Gray pressed against my equally naked self does not a sharp Kai make.
“Besides,” Gray continues, “I have to keep you safe. With all this global warming business going on, redheads are going extinct.”
I start to laugh. “What? No, we’re not. You’re making that up.”
He tugs at my hair gently.
“That would be the weirdest thing to lie about.”
“Fine. Enlighten me. Why am I going extinct?” I ask and push myself up so that I’m leaning on my elbow. There’s a boyish twinkle in Gray’s eyes as he looks at me. He seems so relaxed and carefree. Just the way he should always be.
“You do realize it’s not you per se who’s going extinct, right? You’re not allowed to drop dead for another seventy years or so.”
“I’m not allowed? That’s a pretty big time commitment. What will I get in return?” I ask, pursing my lips, even though I’m all giddy inside because… Gray doesn’t want me to die. It must be love. Jesus, I need a large dose of sanity.
“And here I thought not dying was a good enough of an incentive,” Gray says.
“Hey, I’m going extinct here,” I say with a shrug.
“Again, not you. Just your flame-headed descendants. Red hair is supposedly an adaption to climate. Northern countries, where there are more redheads, don’t get a lot of sun, and people have adapted to get as much vitamin D as they can, right?”
I shake my head and smile. “You and your vitamin D.”
He ignores me. “So with global warming, resulting in more sun and fewer clouds, supposedly there’ll be less and less redheads.”
“Okay, but red hair is genetic,” I say thoughtfully. “So… unless all redheads stop having sex all at once, it’d take a long time for us to disappear completely.”
Gray looks at me, and then he suddenly rolls us over so that I’m beneath him. He looks down at me and waggles his brows. “God forbid we stop you from having sex, then. I was going to suggest we get something to eat, but we can’t now.”
I throw my head back and laugh as Gray smiles, looking pretty damn pleased with himself.
“I don’t think us having sex will—”
Gray silences me with a kiss.
“All I heard was that you can’t stop having sex,” he says sternly as he pulls away, leaving me dazed and reaching upward to pull him back to me.
“Fine,” I groan as he lowers his head and starts kissing my neck, sending shivers of pleasure running down my skin. “I guess I’ll do my part for the survival of my species.”
“Your sacrifice is greatly appreciated,” Gray says, lips moving against my neck.
I’m not a hundred percent sold on the idea that me and Gray having sex will rescue the redheads, but I guess with possible extinction on the horizon, we must try every idea.
And as Gray kisses me and grinds his body down on mine, making our cocks rub together, I can certainly promise to do my part as often as I can.
23
Kai
“Maybe I should have a sign,” I say, staring at the front door.
“Like in a café?” Gray asks.
“Yeah. One of those open/closed ones.”
I’m officially opening the workshop today. The renovations are done. The equipment I need is in there. There’s really no reason to stand in front of the building and discuss signs.
“Your door doesn’t have a window,” Gray says.
“I should get a new door!” I pull out my phone, but before I can start typing, Gray takes it out of my hand.
“You have a perfectly good door in place already.”
“Without a window,” I enunciate. “How will people know if I’m open or not?”
Gray looks to his left and to his