by Kat Bastion
On a slow breath, I murmured to the wind. “You should come out to play more often, Lani.”
Leilani…
My heart hammered as I glided over flat ocean, but I felt like I drifted toward the edge of the biggest sheer drop of my life.
Mase was the reason to jump.
Bold and beautiful as he paddled toward me—toward us—memories of diving off Black Rock as a keiki floated into my mind. To jump, you couldn’t look down, because fear froze the hesitant, then waves pummeled the foolish.
But if I closed my eyes and took the leap, would Mase catch me? If consequences battered into me, rocking my foundation, would I survive the fall?
I didn’t know. And the unknown? Frightened me.
“No one can predict the future...” I drew in a sharp breath as Makuahine’s sage words echoed through my head as if she’d just spoken them. “You have to live in the moment. Live every moment.”
“You would’ve liked Mase,” I whispered into the trade winds, hoping she’d hear me.
A strange ripple pulsed through me in reply. Like the winds listened today, like she’d heard and approved. I let out a gentle sigh as peace settled into my chest. Then I smiled and paddled over to him, not thinking anymore.
“Doing,” I murmured.
“What’s that?”
“I’m doing.”
His smile tilted up into a smirk. “Me, I hope.”
“Cocky surfer.”
“Would you prefer me to be humble?”
I choked on a laugh. “Hell no.”
“Good. Because I like what ‘cocky surfer’ does to mysterious island girl.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“Makes her feisty, sexy…eventually open up, spill all her secrets.”
“Not happenin’, surfer boy.”
“So happenin’, island girl.”
“We’ll see.” My attitude flared at the secrets part, but my heart warmed at the feisty.
Sexy. The word described him. Fully clothed now in a rash guard and board shorts, his boyish looks—joyful smile, wet blond hair with a slight curl, ice-blue eyes shimmering toward silver in the bright sun—hid the shark lurking just below skin-deep. Apex predator. Fully male. Circling his next meal…
The rest of me heated as I remembered when he’d been less fully clothed. Warm turned to tingle, which deepened into an ache. I drew in a quick breath, then dove underwater, needing to douse the fire I’d started simply by letting my mind wander.
When I came up for air, Mase glanced over his shoulder, then began paddling. “Let’s ride one together. I surf goofy foot. We can both take the left.”
My pulse raced at the idea. Until last week, I’d never really surfed with anyone besides Makani. Had been pretty much a loner in the waves. The gift of kai, the ocean, and becoming one with waves that washed ashore onto our ‘āina was sacred to me, cherished—private.
Just surfing with him the other day had been a huge step for me.
To surf the same wave?
I would’ve thought it impossible only weeks ago.
Live every moment brushed through my mind like the breeze. A command…permission. From her. For me. To just let go and live—out loud, not hiding who I was.
My eyes teared up with how hard the heartfelt emotion hit me. I swallowed past a burning lump in my throat, blinked the unwanted moisture from my eyes, then gave him a nod.
I started paddling, facing away from him—so he wouldn’t see my struggle. But with him. And toward something.
We slowed, letting a few smaller waves roll under. But I didn’t sit up, wouldn’t relax back into anything. Not yet. And I didn’t have to. Because the beginnings of a nice set lined up.
I angled toward shore, then paddled with quick, strong strokes.
He glided into position right beside me.
Faster...
My arms burned with exertion.
Wait for it...
My heart pounded with excitement.
Now!
With a shove, I popped up, planted my feet, and crouched low, finding my balance as I rocked my hips forward.
Mase glided up just behind me, and when I glanced back, his grin widened as we both reached our left hands out, trailing our fingers through the arching glassy wall.
“Coming aboard,” he warned, seconds before he stepped onto my board.
With a gasp, I twisted my body and moved my feet forward, adjusting my balance for the extra weight as he skimmed his hands over my hips, stabilizing me. For the briefest moments, we faced each other, riding the wave together, and I tentatively slid my hands around his waist, up his back. Then on a slow exhale, I let myself go. Closed my eyes and fully trusted him, to guide us, to see the danger, and navigate us through.
And the feeling? Exhilarating.
For hours we surfed, sometimes carving the left-hander, other times dropping in to the right. Eventually, we swam through schools of darting fish and went ashore. After pulling out our towels and drying off, we shouldered the bags Dave had dropped earlier, then headed mauka, onto a path hidden by overgrown foliage.
“Where are we going?” he asked, following close behind.
“Somewhere.”
“Want me to guess?”
“Sure.”
“Chipped stone path through jungle next to a rugged beach? We’re heading to an ancient Hawaiian fishing lodge.”
“Nope.”
“Stone steps. Interesting. Going higher. And on the northeastern edge of all Hawai‘i? I’m going with ancient Inuit fishing lodge.”
“Inuit?”
“Alaskan.”
“Why Alaskan?”
“Because you said ‘nope’ to Hawaiian.”
“Nope to Inuit.”
“Viking? Although, gotta say, Vikings would’ve had to travel really far to build a fishing lodge all the way out here.”
“Why a fishing lodge?”
“What I would build. Did you see all those fish around us? This is what people think of when they imagine paradise.”
“That’s all you’d want is a fishing lodge?”
“What else would I need? Fire pit. Oh, maybe a hot tub.” His eyes widened a bit, then he snapped his fingers. “You’re taking me to one of the sacred ancient Hawaiian pools.”
“Nope.”
“An Inuit pool?”
I turned, unable to hide my grin at his ridiculous guesses. “It’s not Inuit. Or Viking.”
“Australian, then.” The steady crunching of rocks beneath his feet stopped.
I paused, turning.
His mouth fell open as he stared over my head.
I touched my fingers under his chin then lifted it shut. “Careful. Mosquitos might breed in there.”
“That is not a Hawaiian fishing lodge.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the structure. Perched on the side of a hidden cliff, it seemed to sprout from the treetops. “Not bad for a vacation shack, yeah?”
“Whose is it?” He gaped at the sweeping Tahitian-style roofline, swept his gaze across the wide lanai.
I pushed overgrown ferns aside, then rounded the front corner of the building, stepping onto the mossy stone pathway. “Someone I know.”
When I flipped open the keypad at the front door, he stared at it. “Someone you know…who gives you the alarm code?”
Right. I hadn’t planned on too many questions. And breaking glass in such a beautiful structure would’ve broken my heart. “I’ve…been here before.”
“Ah.” He folded his arms over his chest, then eyed me with suspicion as I paced out eleven steps from the door, spun left ninety degrees, then counted another eleven, before crouching down and overturning a flattened rock.
I lifted the weather-dulled key from its hiding space in triumph.
“This someone gonna mind we’re here?”
“No.”
“He won’t come to use his fishing lodge anytime soon?”
“What makes you think it’s a ‘he’?�
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“All your secrecy, the hesitancy before you answered. You have a rich boyfriend you haven’t told me about?”
“No. No boyfriend.”
“Uncle, then.”
I stepped out of my slippahs, tucking them against the stone foundation as he did the same. Resting a hand on the door handle, I glanced at him, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine. It’s my uncle’s.” Not exactly. But I needed his questions to stop. Could only expose myself in small steps, with things I was ready to share when I grew ready to share, in time, with trust.
In truth, I’d only been inside the house once.
And as I stepped through a counterbalanced front door made almost entirely of glass, the beauty of the open-air space struck me. Natural bamboo planks lined thirty-foot vaulted ceilings. Custom mango-wood cabinetry filled a spacious kitchen. I smoothed my palms over velvety gray soapstone countertops while gazing at a stunning raw-edged monkeypod dining table.
“That a NanaWall?” He stared toward the lanai that faced the waves where we’d surfed.
“A what wall?” I watched his large bare feet as they crossed a plush oriental rug that depicted a hazy delicate garden at the golden moment of sunrise.
“NanaWall,” he repeated, hand curving around a metal handle on the far end. “Yep. Cade’s parents have one at their country house.”
“No idea.”
“May I?” He raised his brows.
“Sure.” I gave a shrug, trying to hide my smile at his excitement over window-walls while I tried to place the familiar name. “Cade…” —I nodded slowly, beginning to remember standing outside a house with Mase creeped-out about cane spiders— “the ex-roommate with your dog…”
“Yep, Ava.” He twisted the handle and yanked to a loud unsticking sound. A base whoosh followed as fresh air from the trades burst in. He glided the bifolding glass panels along their track, stacking one panel against the other, until the wall disappeared.
My eyes drifted shut on a deep inhale, as I drew in the mineral scent of all things good into my lungs.
“Fucking awesome.” Walking onto the lanai, he stretched his arms wide, then clasped his hands behind his head.
“You like, yeah?”
“Yeah. I like a lot.” He rested his hands on the teak railing outside.
A part of me ached to join him. Drawn to both him and nature, I wanted to be out there, stand beside him…touch him.
But I resisted. Safe inside for now, I remained where I stood. Chicken? Maybe. Not sure if it mattered. We would be close soon enough. Close enough to touch. To taste. And…more.
My pulse started to escalate as tingling parts of my body warmed, then began to throb with insistence that I move over there now. Blowing out a shaky breath, I smoothed my hands over the cool countertop again, curled my toes against the hard bamboo floor, trying to remain calm.
All of a sudden, he whirled around. “Cool to check out the rest of the house?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” I followed when he disappeared down the hall. “Already did the B and E. No biggie to keep on trespassing.”
“Uhhh…‘B and E’?” He glanced over his shoulder at me, then popped a head into an open doorway on our left. “You sound like a hardened criminal.” He shook his head, muttering with a smile, “B and E.” He continued walking toward a closed door on the right, opened the door and scanned inside, then closed it again. “And technically, there was no breaking, only entering.”
“Unlawful entry.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You been in trouble with the law, island girl?”
“No.” Not really. “Looking for something?”
“Changing the subject?”
“Maybe.”
“Totally.”
Not bothering to argue the point, I stopped short two feet from him when he rejected the third room with a dissatisfied headshake; I hadn’t glanced into any of them. Skin still flushed from my sensual thoughts while I’d stood in the kitchen with an entire room between us, my attention stayed focused on him, and my slow calming breaths, in the close quarters of the hallway.
“The master bedroom,” he finally replied, explaining what he was searching for.
A gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. “Oh.” Right down to business.
He leveled a serious look at me. “You’re not scared.” The last word held a note of disbelief.
I tried to steady my racing heart, asking myself the same question. Why would I be afraid to be with him? Far from virginal, even if I hadn’t been properly pleasured as he’d so eloquently pointed out, there should’ve been nothing to fear.
And yet, I couldn’t take another step closer. Couldn’t seem to calm my hammering pulse. Chest rising and falling to keep up with my heart, I couldn’t catch a good solid breath.
“Hey.” He moved closer. Got in my space. Touched me. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
Chin lifting in defiance at his words, at my irritating hesitation, I put a hand on his chest, over his also-rapidly-beating heart. “I’m ready.”
I was. Wasn’t I?
“Then, what?” In the darkened hallway, humidity stifling the still air around us, he brushed the hair from my eyes, cupped my face. “You can tell me.”
“I don’t—” Words failed me. Logic did too. I couldn’t name the feeling. Fear choked my breath, and yet, it wasn’t of going forward. It wasn’t of holding tight to him, cherishing him, pleasuring him. It was the letting go part—having what I wanted most in the world, admitting it to myself and actually taking hold of it, only to have it snatched away.
Wrapping his arms around me, caging me in his solid strength, he tilted his head down. A soft kiss pressed to my forehead.
Surrendering to the rush of feeling, I closed my eyes, inhaled his scent of salt and earth and man. Gentle pressure feathered over one eyelid, then the other: more tender kisses. “You can,” he murmured, brushing his mouth over my cheekbone, dragging his stubble over my jaw.
I clung to him, slipping my hands under the damp waistband of his board shorts, pressing his lower back toward me.
“We can,” he promised on a whisper before his warm lips covered mine.
The tender kiss surpassed all others, soft yet firm, teasing and serious. When my lips parted on a gasp, he nipped my lower lip, then nuzzled my nose with his. “We got this,” he murmured.
His confidence washed away all my fears. I wanted to believe him—needed to.
Unable to speak, I nodded, then pressed my lips to his neck, nestling my face into the crook of his shoulder. Live every moment. A gift. The moment we stole for ourselves, in someone else’s house, in everyone else’s world, had become ours, raw and special. And I wanted to hold on to it, remember every tiny second that had grown monumental.
After a quick squeeze, he pulled away, breaking the spell we’d fallen under.
“C’mon.” He kissed the top of head. “Gotta find that master bedroom.”
My shoulders trembled with laughter. “Your romance astounds me.”
“My determination impresses you.”
“True.”
“And we’re not having sex there.”
I frowned. “We’re not?”
“No.”
“Where, then?”
“Not yet,” he corrected, giving me a pointed look.
“Ahhh…so it’s a matter of when.”
“Exactly.” He nodded, then turned, heading back the way we’d come. “We could also discuss where...”
“Oh, could we?”
“Sure.” He paused, gripped a wood-trimmed corner of the wall on the far side of the kitchen, then glanced over his shoulder at me. “Where would you like to?”
“Seriously, we’re gonna plan this out? Like a sexual itinerary?”
“Sure.”
My mind exploded with so many possibilities, I had to blow out a slow breath to steady myself. “You’re insane.”
“Insanity craves company.” He smi
rked, then turned and disappeared around the corner.
“Such a philosopher,” I muttered, following him.
“Well?” He stood in a massive arched entry that had no doors.
We’d finally made it to the master bedroom. A room in the house I’d never been.
Drawn by finishes I’d only seen in my dreams, I followed Mase in with reverent steps. Sumptuous cream fabric covered two divans, each reclined and angled toward a far wall of glass; the matching his-and-hers low sofas had feet and trim carved of rare translucent curly koa wood. A pair of round jewel-toned pillows had been tossed into a corner of each, on the far one, vibrant emerald and crimson ruby. I skimmed my fingers over the silk of the canary yellow and sapphire blue.
Movement made me turn as Mase gathered back a mass of gossamer mosquito netting that suspended from the ceiling and draped over a massive bed. No color adorned the high mattress, only the sheen of soft ivory bedding. Drawing in a deep breath, I curved my hand around a polished koa-wood bedpost at the foot of the bed.
He stood diagonally across from me, beside two layers of fluffed pillows, watching me with seriousness as something sparked in his eyes. “Is this a ‘where’?”
Careful not to wrinkle one square inch, I pulled the corner of the duvet between my fingers. Cool to the touch, it sobered me back into the moment. “Definitely.”
My skin flushed hot at the idea of being naked in there. With him.
What would it be like to mess a pono bed up, that someone else had carefully made, obviously cleaned regularly? Unable to help myself, I squealed and jumped, arms and legs flinging wide before I landed facedown in the center of it. Smothered by thousand-thread-count cotton plastered to my nose, I could barely breathe, but I smiled into the fabric, not caring.
“Now?” Amusement rippled in his tone. “You want all the mind-blowing sex now?”
A soft rustle sounded in his vicinity.
I tilted my head, peeking up at him.
He’d grabbed the back of his rash guard in a fist and was pulling it over his head. When he curved his shoulders down, contracting his torso, my gaze lowered to take in the bunched muscles of his abs, the low V angling down from his hips, and the dusting of blond hair that disappeared under his low-slung board shorts.
