by Kat Bastion
“Stop!” The nearest shouted. “You’re under arrest!”
Yeah. Not.
I splashed into the water, jumped up in the air holding the board to my chest, then landed on the surface, already paddling. Swift and steady, I stroked with all my power until my arms burned, then kept going. Those officers had been in shorts. And I didn’t have any clue whether they’d chase into the water after us. Or whether they had partners in watercraft anywhere nearby.
But their shouts silenced once I’d almost caught up to Leilani, our position even with my parked truck but an easy hundred yards out from shore.
When I pulled alongside her, she started laughing, then wiped her hand across her wet face. “Oh. My. God. That was awesome.”
“Which part? It was the banana bread, wasn’t it?”
She huffed out more raw laughter and cocked her head slightly, trying to suppress a smile. Then she slowly stroked one hand, turning her board until it pointed at mine. She paddled a few times to coast alongside me. Staring intently at me, she lifted her hand, then slid it into mine. Her top teeth tugged at the corner of her lower lip before she released it, expression softening. “All of it.”
“Yeah, it was.” On a sucked-in breath, I gripped her hand, gave a light pull, then adjusted for impact as our lips gently collided. Hers softened, sucking and nipping at my lower lip. Closing her eyes, she sighed into the kiss, then molded her mouth with mine.
Rolling waves flowed under our boards. Heat from the midday sun warmed our backs. Nearby waves crashed with powerful bass tones onto the hardened lava shore. The power of the place, our moment in time, hit me; it belonged to us and us alone—private and protected.
Minutes stretched by as we explored each other’s mouths. Her hand gently tightened, then released. After a time, we broke apart, and she stared at me for a long moment, as if wanting to make sure I was real.
I smiled at her. “I’m here.”
“I know.” Her voice had gone breathless with wonder, as if she had read my thoughts: that we’d found each other in spite of our differences—maybe because of them. “Can’t believe it.” On a heavy sigh, she rested her cheek on my arm.
That makes two of us. Never would’ve imagined someone could make me feel that way. Restless and settled all at once, craving more, yet satisfied with what I’d been granted.
My body hummed with energy, taut and aroused—by her, by the day, by the undeniable perfection of it all.
“C’mon!” She suddenly burst with excitement. “I’ll show you the wave.”
“It’s going off? Now?”
I’d checked the surf reports. Only two-to-three footers had been forecast for the bay today. But no other place would’ve worked. And I’d brought the boards only in case another spot on the way started firing.
“No. But I want to show you.”
She wanted to share it with me. And I wanted to see it.
“Over there.” She pointed toward mounded lava that jutted out, forming a sweet point break. “Lotta great swells roll in during the summer from tropical storms.”
“Except today.”
With a nod, she tore her gaze from the spot. “Except today.”
Didn’t matter. Not to me. And judging from her happy expression, she didn’t care either. Sometimes a great day doesn’t only have killer waves. Every now and then, it’s what’s between the waves that counts.
A line traveling along the surface caught my eye. “What about over there?” I tipped my head toward a long turquoise ribbon as it glided toward shore.
“Sweet. I think it bends around the break.”
I stared at the white foamy crest as it steadily curled over, then kept going. “It’s got a nice steady twist to it.”
“Let’s give it a shot.” She began paddling without waiting for my reply.
Atta girl.
Took us about ten minutes to reach the waves. “Not big.” She judged the most recent one. “Maybe three-footers.”
“Wait for it.”
She nodded, turning with me as we stared at the horizon. Sets of waves followed patterns. Another ten minutes, or so, could yield a group of nice ones. I hoped. The waves flowed toward us from the south, generated by winds and storms thousands of miles away.
“There.” A larger set headed our way, distinct from the rest.
“Nice. Pass on the first, take the second.” It had the most defined line, and I wanted her to have it. When the first wave came, she turned and began to paddle, timing her speed to catch the second. Faster and faster she went until the wave lifted her up as it began to crest under her board.
Yes.
She popped up and began to carve, finding a natural fall line. Her body twisted, arms gracefully spread as they angled with her turns. Then she undulated, bending low to sweep up under the lip then slide back down the wall again.
Nice. Her silhouette appeared beautiful as she danced through the green glassy wave.
Keeping her in my sights, I swiftly paddled to catch the next one. As the wave rose, I stroked hard enough to feel a decent burn. Right at the peak, I popped up, then dropped in. Skating across the face, I raked my fingers through the water, connecting to the wave. When the spray increased around me, I carved upward, then angled down, shooting farther out from the curl. As the wave began to close, I scanned ahead for Leilani.
She’d paddled up shore and had traveled a good hundred yards away. I planked my board, then followed with swift even strokes.
Cool water, warm sun, steady breeze, and a girl worth chasing. Life didn’t get any better.
The waves rolled under me, lifting and falling, as I watched her disappear behind a steep lava formation that jutted into the ocean. After I rounded the corner, I spotted her as she angled into a narrow cove.
When I finally caught up, she dunked down into the thigh-high water, then walked onshore. She towed her board behind her until she safely beached it a few feet in.
Eager to reconnect with her, I splashed down into the water, then followed her up onto the shallow beach made of disintegrated black lava peppered with white specks of crushed coral. The high walls of an ancient lava flow surrounded the intimate space, casting it in partial shadow.
“Sweet ride.” Nothing technical, but a gift from nature all the same.
White dress plastered to her body over her swimsuit, she plopped onto the sand, turned over, then propped up on her elbows as she stared out to sea. A serious faraway expression washed over her face, but the slight crinkle in her eye and a hint of a smile warmed it into a look of satisfaction as she let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah.”
I moved, casting her in shadow as I blocked the sun. “Room for me down there?”
Not taking…asking.
“Yeah.” She glanced up at me, then patted the rough sand beside her.
But I didn’t move.
Our gazes remained locked together. Her breath caught. When she finally exhaled, she licked her lips. Then she tugged the lower one inside her mouth, breaths quickening, as if the saltwater that coated them tasted good, but she wanted something more.
I wanted to be the one to provide it.
My pulse kicked up as blood began to flood south. I sucked in a shaky breath, then stretched out beside her. “This too close?”
“No.” The soft-spoken word rippled with the undercurrent of an order.
“Want me closer?”
“Yes,” she whispered on a slow nod.
“How close?”
“All the way close.”
“Like this?” My mouth hovered over hers.
Air fogged between our lips, warm and tempting. But we didn’t touch.
After a hard swallow, I turned my head a fraction to the right, over the corner of her luscious mouth. Careful not to make contact, I floated left, tracing the contours of her decadent lips. I took my time, learning her, breathing her in, savoring her wild scent. All the while, an intense ache pulsed through my body, heavy in my chest, an insistent throb in my groin.
>
I paused when I reached the center of her mouth. My eyes drifted shut as I lingered there.
The slightest gasp escaped her parted lips.
Then she touched her forehead to mine. “Honi,” she breathed.
“Was that a request in Hawaiian?” I murmured as the tips of our noses touched.
“It means to kiss. But like this” —she clasped my hand, wove her fingers together with mine, still connected forehead to forehead, nose to nose— “when we inhale as one.” Our chests expanded together, her essence filling my nostrils as mine filled hers. “It’s hā: the breath of life.”
The sacredness of the act was evident in her tone.
My chest burned with emotion, and I tightened my hand around hers. “I’m honored.”
On the next breath, she shifted, tilting her head, then brushed her lips over mine. Soft, sweet, and yet, the power of it all hit me with the unexpected force of a rogue wave.
She pulled back, staring into my eyes as hers glittered with unshed tears. “And mana: the spiritual connection between us.”
We both let out a slow breath as the weight of the moment—of what we shared—sank in. Then we gave in to the pull, lips gently colliding.
But we clasped our hands tighter together. Because we both knew not all great rides came easy.
Leilani…
Sensations flooded everywhere, from the top of my head to my curling toes.
Soft lips caressed mine, begging me to lean closer.
Mase’s hard muscles tensed, then relaxed, as if his body wanted to do more.
I wanted to do more. So much more…
But before things got overheated, before they really even got started, our movements slowed. The urgency faded as hard kisses melted into tender nips and slow sucks.
His essence felt animalistic: tamed yet wild just below the surface.
Like me.
“Thank you,” I breathed when we parted. I dropped my forehead to his once more.
“For what?” His nose touched mine, a gentle rub.
I couldn’t believe he was here. With me. The boy I’d been waiting all my life for. Only he wasn’t a boy. And I was no longer a little girl with fairy-tale dreams. We laid on a remote lava beach as man and woman, a part of my ‘āina, one with the world of my Hawaiian ancestry.
But only one of us was Hawaiian.
I pinched my eyes shut, refusing to mar the pono day with my lifelong struggles.
“For giving me time, for waiting.”
If only patience was the solution to everything.
No. I refused think about what we couldn’t be.
Makuahine’s words shimmered into my mind: All that ever exists is now, the fleeting seconds we pull breath into our lungs. Seize the precious moment, for happiness is found there.
My awareness drifted back to the man in front of me.
Mase is my now.
Before I overanalyzed for one more wasted second, I lunged forward, capturing his lips with mine—to be in the now we’d stolen for ourselves. His strong hands smoothed up my back, holding me close. Eyes closed, senses flaring to life, I skimmed my fingers along the lean muscles of his forearms, over his biceps, across his broad shoulders, then up into the blond curls at his nape.
Our kisses grew unhurried, like we owned the day with nowhere to go. Stubble on his jaw scratched my face a little, but I enjoyed the roughness, his raw maleness. A reaching wave bubbled up over our toes, then retreated.
“Leilani,” he murmured with reverence against my lips as we paused to catch our breaths.
“Say my name again.”
“Leilani…” he breathed before brushing his mouth over mine.
I savored the way it floated from his lips, as if he took great care with a fragile gift he deemed sacred.
The sun dipped behind forming clouds as I settled against him, resting my head below his shoulder with one hand draped across his chest and my other on his arm. Silent as we embraced one another, I stared out across the vast ocean.
Somewhere out there, over thousands of miles of endless water, then thousands more miles of continent, were Mase’s people, the world he came from.
On a hard exhale, I tightened my grip on his arm. “You’re in my world now.”
The afternoon had wound to an end with the sun splashing brilliant corals and pinks across the sky as it touched the unseen horizon. We’d lain for hours in the shade on the tiny beach we’d claimed for ourselves, kissing, laughing, and talking, sharing inconsequential things—grateful to even be together. Then we’d paddled back and had even caught a decent three-footer as it spiraled in, not far from his truck.
In the darkening quiet of his cab, reasonably dry in fresh clothes we’d changed into, I scooted closer to him as we drove up the highway. I threaded my fingers into his, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m planning our next date.”
He squeezed my hand, then glanced at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “We’re not done with this one.”
“Good.” I gave him a soft kiss, then pointed toward the road where a YIELD TO ONCOMING TRAFFIC sign indicated a one-lane section.
A cozy buffer wrapped itself around us, as if only the two of us existed. Yet as he made each turn, through eucalyptus forest, across grazing lands, climbing into the misty clouds of Upcountry, a sense of urgency began to press in.
Because once we got out of the private space of his truck, the rest of the world waited—one that didn’t accept outsiders, one that only saw the color of his skin without bothering to hear the beat of his heart.
I want them to care. I wanted him to be accepted.
After several more curves, he pulled into his driveway, then parked beside my Tacoma. He left our boards in the back, grabbed the bag of wet clothes, then clasped his hand in mine as we walked toward his front door. “So, how’d I do?”
“Not bad.”
“Not bad?” He dropped the bag on the second step. Then his hands began to roam over my hips, up my ribs, as soft kisses trailed up my neck. “I’ll have to do better.”
Every cell in my body zinged to life as his breath and lips teased my skin. Then heat tingled downward, turning into the most delicious ache. He folded his body around me, warm and solid. His scent filled my lungs, of the earth and ocean and something unique to him, incredibly male.
When he tugged on my earlobe with his teeth, I shivered on a sharp gasp. “Pono,” I breathed, as the righteousness of the moment took hold. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight. “Most amazing date ever.” My heart filled with gratitude; that he’d been the one to take me on my first.
Headlights suddenly flashed over us, seconds before a vehicle pulled up behind Mase’s truck. Temporarily blinded, it took a few seconds for my eyes to readjust to the darkness as a car door opened. Then my heart sank when I saw who got out: a police officer—who I knew.
“That your truck there?” He nodded toward Halia.
Mase stepped forward, partially blocking me. “Yeah, so?”
“A truck matching your description was parked near the scene of a crime.”
Narrowing his eyes, Mase tilted his head a little. “What crime is that, exactly?”
“Trespassing. Onto imported sand owned by a private party.”
I sidled in front of Mase. “Onto a beach? C’mon, Kanaloa. You know that’s public land.”
“Onto the lawn.” Kanaloa swung his gaze toward me.
Mase crossed his arms. “How do you know it was onto the lawn?”
“Motion sensors were tripped.”
“What evidence do you have?”
“We saw you.”
“How could you have seen us? We weren’t there.”
“Two people matching your description? Blond hair, tall, dark board shorts? Hawaiian girl, white dress? With your truck parked nearby? How stupid do you think I am?”
“I have no basis with which to evaluate your intelligence, so I’ll leave that to you. But lots of people on Maui match that descriptio
n. And my truck was parked there because we were surfing at La Pérouse.”
“There weren’t waves at La Pérouse today.”
“Says you.”
“There was a bag there.”
“Didn’t have my name on it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I wasn’t there.”
“There were fingerprints on a banana bread wrapper.”
“Fingerprints. And you ran those fingerprints and they matched one of us?”
“Partial fingerprints. And we can send them to a lab for analysis.”
“So…you’re going to waste valuable police resources to run a fingerprint analysis on a banana bread wrapper? To…catch a perpetrator who walked on the grass?”
Kanaloa ignored Mase’s common sense. His hard eyes stared at me. “Watch it, Leilani. You misstep once, and it’s over.”
My jaw clenched, shoulders squaring back. “Are you threatening me?”
“Only making sure you clearly understand what’s at stake here.” Kanaloa held my gaze for three long seconds, before glaring at Mase. Then he turned and walked away.
Mase and I stared silently at the car as it backed down his driveway until headlights flashed in an arc across his ‘ōhi‘ a bushes then disappeared.
He turned toward me. “What’s that all about? What’s at stake here?”
“Nothing.” Total lie. But I didn’t want to ruin things further.
On a deep breath, his eyes slightly narrowed as he did that whole see-through-me thing, as if trying to ferret out my secrets.
“I should go.” Before I get buried under my past any deeper.
“Wait.” He closed the remaining space between us and gathered me into his arms.
On a slow exhale, I relaxed in his solid hold, settling into the safety there. Closing my eyes, I imagined that Mase had the power to erase everything that had come before.
That I could start fresh.
Soaking in his protective warmth, my thoughts drifted back to our laughter earlier on the waves, the freedom of floating on the water, the blissful feeling of his lips on mine.
