by Kat Bastion
“That’s a follow-up question.”
“What fun is this if I don’t get follow-up questions?”
He tapped a thumb on his bent knee. “Gotta put those in the rules.”
“I was never very good at following rules.”
“Me either.”
Tension pulsed between us. Like something had been said…that hadn’t been said.
“Fine.” I slammed back my waiting shot, then hissed in a breath at its stout burn. “New rule: Wanna tack on a follow-up? Gotta take a shot.”
“My turn.” He grabbed the bottle. When I pulled my shot glass close to my chest, he shook his head and grabbed the empty he’d planted in the sand.
“You didn’t answer my follow-up.”
“Chill, young padawan.” He dropped me a hard look. “I’m about to.”
“Padawan?”
“Student…apprentice.” He narrowed his eyes, then scowled. “Didn’t you watch any Star Wars movies?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen them all once. Doesn’t mean I have to commit the geeky terms to memory.”
His gaze held mine for long seconds. Then his lips curved into a lazy smile. “Nope.”
“Nope what?”
“Nope is the answer to your question.”
He hasn’t been surfing ever since.
“So you took a break? For how long? When did you start again?”
He raised the bottle. “He who has the tequila asks the questions.”
“You’re making up the rules as we go.”
“You made one? I made one.”
I tapped a finger on my empty glass. “I’m way too sober for this.”
“Wait your turn. Then you can drink away.”
Seconds ticked by as he watched me.
I stared at him the entire silent time.
My brows slowly rose. “Well?”
“I’m asking the question.”
“So ask the question.”
“Tell me about your family.”
“You suck at this. That’s not a question. And you need to be more specific.”
“All right. What did you mean when you told your brother ‘ohana?”
My heart plummeted to my stomach. Figures, he’d zero in on the one thing I didn’t want to talk about. But no way was I drinking to let Mase know that. “‘Ohana means family.”
“I know what the word means; I saw Lilo and Stitch as a kid. But what did you mean? You made it sound like an obligation on the phone, like you were irritated—about having to come talk to me.”
“I was.” Still am. Don’t like to pay for stupid mistakes. “I owed him a favor.”
“Big favor.”
“Yep.” I grabbed the bottle, contemplating what I wanted to know about him. If he hadn’t been surfing all this time… “What have you been doing the last few years?”
He dropped a put-out look at me. “Did you want a day-by-day account?”
“Right. Specific.” I studied him a minute with narrowed eyes. Even though he was fit, he seemed smart. And for some reason, he didn’t need the money Makani had offered him. Which made me want to phrase my question carefully, to get the most information from him.
“Clarification rules” —I tapped my lip with a finger, thinking— “our question can be multipronged, like an if-then situation.”
His lips scrunched a little, then an eyebrow raised and he gave a slight nod. “I’ll allow it.”
“If you worked, what did you do? But, if you went to school or college, what did you study? And if you did neither, then…” I reconsidered his lean muscular form. Definitely not football, but maybe an athlete of some kind. “Did you play sports?”
“Clarification question.”
I fought a smile as I repeated his phrase. “I’ll allow it.”
“And if I did all three?”
“Then you have to answer all three.”
“Okay.” He stared up at the star-studded sky a moment. “I did work some, when I wanted and time allowed. Odd construction jobs mostly, an addition to someone’s house was the last.”
He paused. Neither of us moved. After a few seconds, I turned toward him, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest then the peacefulness on his face as he stared up into the darkness.
On a slow sigh, my body relaxed into the extended silence. Odd that I’d feel so comfortable with a complete stranger, yet we shared kindred blood, a love for the sea, and that alone forged a connection of sorts. Thirsty after a dry swallow, I untwisted my beer from the sand and lifted it to my lips, guzzling down a good quarter of its contents before coming up for air.
Finally, he shifted, tucking a bent arm under his head. “Went to school, too.”
No further explanation came, seconds ticking by again. “Need I remind you of the rules? Don’t answer? Drink.” And, as he’d so readily pointed out for me, drinking was an answer unto itself.
The lapping of the waves a few dozen yards from our feet filled the space between our quiet breaths. I took another healthy swallow of beer, waiting.
“I studied pre-med.”
I gasped, then sprayed out beer from tightened lips, followed by coughing and sputtering to clear what had slipped into my lungs. After a convulsive jolt upright, I bent my head down between my knees, taking stuttering breaths and a few lung-clearing deeper coughs.
“You okay?” He hit me hard on the back. “Didn’t think it would be that shocking.”
But it was. I rasped out, “To be…a doctor?” Couldn’t wrap my mind around it. If I’d had to guess a vocation the furthest from his laidback surfer demeanor it would’ve been that—well, or an accountant, maybe a lawyer.
“Usually why it’s done.” He gave another hard thwack between my shoulder blades, jarring my teeth.
“Easy.” I drew in my first solid lungful of air. “Trying to catch my breath, not dislodge stuck food.”
Sifting my hands through the cool sand beside my feet while I steadied my breathing, my mind started clicking. “Wait. So you’re not going to school anymore? Why?”
He stared at the tequila bottle expectantly. “I heard two questions; but we’ll count it as only one follow-up. The first was rhetorical.”
I poured the obligatory shot, then tossed it back with a hiss, feeling more of the burn down my throat after the coughing fit.
“Why?” I repeated, the question of the night.
Why me? Why not pre-med? Only for some inexplicable reason, the first “why” had lost its interest for me. Maybe it was the alcohol beginning to warm my veins and buzz my head. But the more I sat there, at peace and enjoying myself in his company, the less I wanted to question the “why me” of it. And the last seemed like the most important of the night to him, so far.
On a deep breath, he stared at me, chest expanding as he filled his lungs. Then he held motionless for a second before letting it all out in a hard whoosh. He gave a slight headshake. “Didn’t fit me.”
That’s all he said. Except his tone, his demeanor, the dark hooded look of his eyes shouted there was more to the story than him simply righting a wrong direction.
And I knew plenty about wrong directions. Why I’d struggled so much. I’d been placed on a path in my life, no matter what I wanted, no matter how wrong it felt. But out of duty for family, and fierce love for a brother who protected me all he could, I remained on the path—even if I strayed from time to time.
The silence grew tense.
Like we needed to move on, only he’d gotten stuck.
And I’d put him there.
“Here, take a shot.” I shoved the bottle against his side.
“Uh…”
I pressed it harder into his ribs, shaking my head at his hesitation. Offering him an out felt like it gave both of us a break. “You need another drink. You don’t have to answer the sports thing.”
“Yeah, I do. No biggie.” He took a shot anyway. “And yeah, did the sports thing too but only when I could. Didn’t entirely give up surfing, just didn’t do it m
uch. And typically only at Poverty Beach and Harvey Cedars with the Jersey surfers in the winter.”
He sighed, settling back as he stared out into the darkness. “Snow covered the beach.”
“Snow?” I couldn’t imagine surfing in that kind of cold.
“Yep. Full wetsuit. Gloved hands. Booted feet. But the waves…” His voice turned breathless with reverence. “They’re thick and heavy. One right after the other, full of power. Humbling. Terrifying. It’s fucking amazing.”
“Niiice.” I’d been there before, riding the fear and thrill all at once.
“Okay. Ready for another one?”
“Sure.”
“I did my story on school, work, and play.” He leaned in, raising his brows. “What about you? I toss your multipronged question back at you.”
“Oh.” No clue why I hadn’t expected turnabout, but it threw me. Curious as I’d been about his story, I didn’t want to reveal much about mine. With good reason. But how to play along?
“I went grad at Seabury Hall.” Simple enough. “You know I don’t work. Why you hired me. And I surf a little. There. Questions answered.”
“Nooo…not quite.” His finger tapped the bottle. “You’re hiding something.” His gaze intensified, eyes widening then narrowing as he tipped his head to one side, like maybe he could unlock my secrets with telepathy. “What did you study? And if you can’t answer, or don’t want to, then what did you want to do after graduation? Can’t imagine you’ve longed to be my assistant all this time.”
“Hardly.” I snorted.
When the silence dragged out, he continued tapping the bottle with his nail. The rhythmic clinking served as a countdown.
“I dunno.”
“Lie.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I want to travel. See the world. Study marine biology maybe. Or archeology. There are some cool ruins on the islands that have always interested me.” There. Not the whole truth, but close enough and more than he’d shared.
“But…”
“Nope. Nothing more. I answered the question.” Minimally. The only way I was willing to.
More silence followed. A comfortable safe stretch of nothingness. No expectations. No rules. But the longer I hung suspended in the temporary place of solitude we’d found on a starry night in the middle of nowhere…the more important the moment became. Like I’d found myself—somewhere.
Lost in a hazy buzz I didn’t want to cut short, I poured another shot, then tossed it back. Leaving my head tilted back for a few seconds, I stared out into the glittering vastness above us. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“No. A real one. Deep. Off the record.” More important. One I’d never been able to ask anyone.
“Sure. Shoot.”
“Ever feel like you’re living someone else’s life? Like what everyone wants for you, expects for you…isn’t for you?”
A soft snort sounded out as he glanced at me. “Story of my life.” He leaned up on one elbow, stared out over the dark ocean, then scrubbed a hand over the stubble around his lips and down his chin. “Well, up until a couple of weeks ago.”
“What happened a couple of weeks ago?”
He swung a heavy gaze at me. “Decided to live for me.”
“That simple?” His life must’ve been different. Less complicated. Mine was anything but.
He gave a halfhearted shrug. A few beats passed while he stared hard at me, as if considering how worthy I was of the answer. “We gotta be true to ourselves. Gotta do what makes us the most happy. If we don’t search out our best selves, how can we expect to give that to anyone else?”
His profound words hung between us like a shining beacon. Far away, yet urging me to follow. If only it was so easy; see what I want—what I most need for me to be whole—and go after it.
Not in my family.
Not in my world.
But I didn’t want to think about my world. Not when I’d escaped to a beach a million miles away. Not on a remote rock with a stranger who’d quickly wiggled his way into my heart as an almost-friend.
All that existed—all I wanted to think about for the next twelve hours—was Mase and me.
A comfort settled between us after the depth of my question and his insightful response. We let it linger there for a while as the waves lapped at the shoreline in the darkness beyond our feet. The breeze scratched palm fronds over the thatched roof of his bure behind us.
After we polished off our beers, high on the silent bonding that had unfolded between us, I decided to continue the game. “My turn.”
Mind still lulled by the heavier detour, my thoughts blanked out. But since he’d asked about my family, and he’d mentioned his parents, ‘ohana seemed a safe place to stay. “What about you?” I shifted to face him, then stared into eyes that sparkled from the glow of the light behind us. “Got any brothers or sisters?”
His eyes widened, but only for an instant. Then his lips parted and he let out a long exhale.
Instead of answering, he poured a to-the-brim shot and slammed it back before planting both bottle and glass into the sand. “I need some air.”
“What?” I stared at the lean muscles of his back as he strode toward the surf lapping in. “Game over?” I shouted.
No reply came. Instead, his shorts dropped. Could hardly see a thing with the darkness of a new moon at play, but dude was definitely buck naked.
“Game over, then,” I grumbled as I stood. I dusted my hands off, then followed him.
Game or not, one last question shimmered to the surface, murmured slowly from my lips. “What spooked you, Mase?”
The man who was sensitive about his name—maybe who didn’t want to be known as a “Price”—clearly had family issues.
Perhaps we had more in common than I’d thought.
Which could be good. And a whole lot of bad.
Mase…
Blood hammered through my veins.
Choppy breaths sucked down into my lungs.
Water swirled around me, and I pinched my eyes shut, drowning in raw memories that refused to stay away.
The tropical current was warm. But all of a sudden, an odd coolness washed over my legs, swept up and through my chest. In a flash, the sensation vanished.
But as a familiar calmness lingered, I let out a heavy breath.
“Deke?” My brother. Whispered from my lips, I hadn’t spoken his name in years. I stared at the enormous darkness overhead. A million stars sparkled through the black canvas. “The Milky Way,” I murmured. What he’d taught me long ago on a darkened beach in our youth.
After another couple of measured breaths, awareness of my surroundings sharpened back into focus.
And then I turned around.
My breath caught.
Leilani.
Even from the pitch black of the moonless night, I had a clear view of her. Naked. Soft light glowing from the beach bure behind her silhouetted her curves. And holy fuck, what curves.
Uninhibited, and probably totally unaware I could see her so clearly, she glided into the water right in front of me. Chest-high on me, the gentle waves skimmed her shoulders as they rolled by.
From the bure’s distant glow, a low shine reflected off her cheek, which plumped a little when she smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I huffed out a breath. Get your shit together, Mase.
“You okay?”
No. But I would be—what traveling to the ends of the earth with no roadmap was all about: facing fears, chasing dreams. Even if I didn’t have a clear view on either. Not yet, anyway.
“Yeah.” My gut clenched at my habitual lie; it tasted bitter with her. “No.” Honest. Real. For some undefinable reason, I needed to cleanse my soul with an unexpected beautiful stranger who’d I’d met only hours ago.
Concern wrinkled her brow. The soft lapping of water on her shoulders grew louder as she closed the distance between us to within a couple of feet.
&n
bsp; “But getting better the closer you are.” Didn’t know how or why, but being near her calmed me on a visceral level. Instantly addicted to the feeling, I wanted more.
The wrinkle over her nose softened as she raised her brows. “Can I help?”
“No.” Honest again. Even though the night had become something totally remarkable—and still continued to evolve—I wasn’t ready to deal with my demons.
On an abrupt squeal, she launched a good foot out of the water and landed in a curled position against my chest, legs dangling over my forearm. As I instinctively braced an arm around her back, wrapping her up tight so she wouldn’t dunk below the surface, she clung to my shoulders, breaths coming in fast gulps.
Shocked, but not hating her sudden one-eighty, I gave her a smug smile. “Well, look at the lucky guy who doesn’t have to look up your skirt.”
Her gaze darted to our left as she smacked my chest. “Shut it. Something brushed against my leg…a shark.”
“Uh-huh.” I gripped her hips, holding her tighter against me, then made a dramatic show of scanning the water—made certain no fins circled us for real. “Says the naked girl in my arms.”
“It’s a shark,” she insisted.
“It’s not a shark.”
“Do not let go of me.” The water wasn’t cold, but her entire body began to tremble with terror.
My smile faded. So did my amusement. With a gentle squeeze, I tucked her closer against my chest. “I’ve got you. If it was a shark, he’s gonna have to take a good bite of me before he’ll ever make it to you.”
“Do you think it’s a shark?” Her words were whispered.
I tried not to smile. Her fear wasn’t funny. At all. But her knee-jerk reaction to it? Adorable. “No. Pretty sure it isn’t a shark.”
“What, then? Some enormous creature with serious power bumped into me.”
“Probably just a sand ray.”
“Big sand ray.” She continued to search the scant few feet of calm surface visible in the dark.
“Sure. Mantas can be twenty-plus feet across the fin, tip to tip.”
“Manta is not a sand ray. Sand ray sounds like a puppy. Manta is a wolf.”
“Better than anything else that could’ve bumped you. And far more likely.” Probably. Mantas went shallow during the day, but I thought deeper at night. Not a chance in hell I’d share my doubts, though.
