True Abandon

by Jeannine Colette

  “That’s so cool. We didn’t have anything like that in our school. Were you the anchor?” Lani ’s eyes are bright with interest.

  I roll my eyes and downplay it. “It was a riveting broadcast. For five minutes a day, I gave the rundown on sports, school happenings, and what was being served in the school cafeteria.”

  Jax doesn’t seem to care for my description. “She was our own Diane Sawyer. I used to be late for first period, but when that started, I made sure I was in my seat just so I could see her show. Every day she had a different student join her as a co-host. Everyone signed up. We all wanted to be on.”

  “Were you on?” Auli’i asks.

  He turns to her. “Twice. I would have done it every day, but I had to wait my turn.”

  I remember seeing his name on the list. He signed up every month. “While I wanted to pick him, I knew it would be obvious I had an insane crush on him if I did. He was my co-host once before we dated and once after. He touched my knee during the broadcast and threw me off script. He was banned from then on.”

  Just like the memory, Jax hand rests on my knee, and I jolt at the contact. He’s still looking at Auli’i, and I’m now staring at his hand splayed across my knee. My stomach dances in flutters, and there’s a pulsing that shoots straight from where his hand is to my core.

  “Trish was always funny, yet she had a gentle quality. Her sweet nature extended to everyone she met. Especially me. I was a lucky guy to have her as a friend.” His words have Lani gawking at him like he hung the moon. Even Jason gives Jax a starry-eyed expression.

  Lani gives her attention back to me. “That broadcast must have been great for getting into college. Why didn’t you go to journalism school?”

  Jax’s hand slowly leaves my knee, and I know why. “I gave it up my senior year. Let someone else have a chance.”

  My hand travels to my face to hide any hint of a blush I may have. Or flushed. Who knows. All I do know is his face is turned toward mine, and I can feel his heated stare directly on my skin.

  Auli’i places her entwined hands on the table and then gestures toward the trees. “I think it’s time the girls do a dance.”

  I blink up at Auli’i. By “girls” I hope she means Lani and her.

  “Trish. Lani. Please dance for us. Jason, will you play for us?” Auli’i rises from the table and walks to the porch on the backside of the house.

  She’s walking back with a ukulele when I say, “I think Lani should do this one. I’m not ready.”

  Auli’i walks up to Jason. “Do you know how to play Kawaipunahele?” When he nods, she hands him the instrument and takes a seat.

  Without another word, she raises her hands, one toward me, another to Lani and ushers us up.

  Reluctantly, I take a step beside Lani near the Ohi’a trees. The waves of the nearby ocean can be heard in the background until Jason starts playing the ballad.

  I know the routine Auli’i and I have been practicing. We bend our knees, and extend our arms and take steps forward and back with swayed hips.

  I try whatever I can to ignore the way Jax looks over the amber light and the way my body moves to the music. As nervous as I am, concentrate on the story the dance is meant to tell and flow into a graceful routine.

  Auli’i speaks over the music to Jax. “This is a song about a man beckoning a loved one to return to the relationship.”

  Lani and I raise an arm to the sky and down before spreading them out and bringing them into our hearts. We turn to the side, and dip our hips.

  With our left arms bent and right hands drawing back in, Auli’i explains, “He tells her they are firmly united and never separate like a never-fading lei. He asks her to come back with him to where they belong.”

  As my hand raises to my forehead, I flow into the step that has my other arm extended as I turn in a circle in step with Lani.

  Auli’i speaks. “He is lonely. He says, ‘When it’s right, we will go back.’”

  My breath hitches at the sight of Jax. His shining eyes have glazed over and softened. His body relaxes, and a slow smile builds across his face.

  Jason plays the verse again, and I do whatever I can not to look in his direction again.

  At the final chord, Lani and I take a bow.

  Jax gives a strong clap. His mouth is now ignited into a grin that shows pride. His stare penetrates me over the glowing candlelight, completely sincere. When he gives me those eyes, it’s easy to forget why I hated him for so long. With that look, he’s burrowing a hole straight into my soul, and I may just morph myself into a flower and latch onto him for eternity.

  I shake my body and get rid of the thought quickly.

  Lani and I sit back at the table. I take a long drink of my water when I notice Auli’i staring at the eye on Jax’s forearm.

  “Every tattoo tells a story,” she says. Her fingers brush the image. “Is she looking into the past or the future?”

  Jax grins. “Both.”

  She pats his arm, and her eyes crinkle on the sides. “I like you. You’re a good man. I hope you come by again soon.”

  “I will,” he says and rises from the table.

  I stand as well since we came together. “Dinner was wonderful. Let us help clean up,” I offer.

  “No. You two go home,” she says. “Lani and Jason will stay.”

  The two love birds on the other side of the table halt mid stride. They had risen as well and were on their way away from the table.

  With a firm hand and matching stare, Auli’i motions for them to sit back down. “You may have thought having friends to dinner would distract an old woman, but not for long. Now, it’s your turn.”

  Their mouths collectively drop at the serious, grandmotherly tone Auli’i has just taken on.

  “Have a good night,” I call out as Jax and I walk around the side of the house toward the car.

  While Auli’i is a gentle soul, she does hold a high standard for her granddaughter and who she dates. Jason is in for at least an hour of questions and introspective conversation.

  “Do you think he’s okay?” Jax asks when we get in the car.

  “Jason will be fine. You seemed to pass with flying colors.”

  “I didn’t know I was under investigation.”

  “Auli’i has become a surrogate grandmother of sorts to me. I’ve only known her a short time, yet we’ve bonded—that sounds weird.”

  “No. It makes sense. You can know someone for years or just a few days, but it only takes a moment for your souls to connect.”

  I inhale a quick breath as I pull the car onto the street and drive toward the Kauai Princess.

  I turn on the radio, and the two of us talk about the different music we like. I haven’t listened as much as I did in New York, but I have a new-found passion for, Jason Mraz.

  “You like that guy?”

  “He has this disarming quality. Like, I’m just this little guy with a big guitar, and I’m going to let it talk for me because I’m too shy to actually approach you.”

  He laughs. “I get that. I was on a Colbie Calle kick for a while. What? Don’t look at me like that. Her music is soulful.”

  “I’m sure the fact she’s a smoking hot blonde has nothing to do with it.”

  He grins. “What can I say. I like blondes.”

  I bite my lip. I would know. I used to be one.

  “You have plenty of blondes to pick from on that phone of yours. I’m sure one search of your email account will find you someone local.”

  “I knew it!” He hits the dashboard and laughs. It’s a real laugh—the kind that builds from your belly and unleashes in a boisterous shout. “You went through my phone in the hospital.”

  I hit myself in the forehead—denying it no longer an option. “I didn’t trust you. I had to make sure I knew what I was dealing with.”

  “You little snoop. See anything good?”

  I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. “You take a lot of selfies. You have a really
big ego.”

  He laughs again. I turn to face him for just a second, but it’s long enough to see his dimples are out. Yes, Jax has dimples and goddammit they’re freaking adorable.

  “What else?”

  I let out an audible breath and find myself smiling. “Your niece is really freaking cute.”

  “She is,” he sighs. “I can’t wait till you meet her. I know I told you what a little spitfire she is, but you really can’t get the essence of cuteness until you hang with her. She calls me every day, which has been a bitch since I’ve been here. It’s hard to explain to a four-year-old you’re six hours behind.”

  His arm goes behind my headrest as he leans in closer. I focus on the dark road ahead, but his masculine scent invades the small space.

  “I listened to your music. It was really good.”

  “That was ‘Die A Happy Man.’ The lyrics came after.”

  I clear my throat and switch lanes for no apparent reason. “You have a lot of unread fan mail. You should read them.”

  “No,” he states sternly. “That’s Pandora’s box. Have you seen what’s in there?”

  “Yes. People who have been inspired by you and others you’ve helped in some way. They deserve to hear from you.”

  “There’s a lot of underage girls in there, too. Last time I opened one, it was some fifteen-year-old girl who gave me her address and the passcode to her security system.” He leans back into his seat and runs his hands along his thighs. “I don’t want to bring up the past, but don’t think I haven’t learned from it.”

  I smash my lips together and nod. “What were you like? You know, the last few years. You’ve said you’ve done some messed up things.” I blow out a loud breath and ask, “What’d you mean?”

  “Drugs,” he answers. “Drinking. Sleeping with women and not calling them again. Pulling dangerous or life-threatening stunts because I just didn’t care.”

  He had told me he’d done terrible things in the past. Still, it’s difficult to hear him say it out loud. “What kind of drugs?”

  “Pills, mostly.”

  “You didn’t do them the night of your accident,” I say, and he looks at me curiously. “It wasn’t in your toxicology report.”

  For some reason that lightens his mood. “You really are a little investigator. I don’t know if I should be impressed or frightened?”

  “Frightened,” I say with a nervous laugh.

  He shakes his head and pats his legs. His thighs are spread wide. Well, as wide as they can in the confines of my passenger seat. “I stopped a few years ago. I mostly drink now. It wasn’t out of dependency—just being miserable. The truth is, I’m glad I got shit-faced that night. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and you wouldn’t have been by my side. And I wouldn’t be here sitting by yours.”

  I try not to show how that little tidbit of information affects me.

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “My new password is 0417.”

  “Why is your password my birthday?”

  “After realizing how simple it was to break into my phone, I knew I had to change it. And since you’re the only one I want digging through it, I thought I’d make it easy for you.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I thought we already established that when I flew all the way to Hawaii to see you. Can I ask you something?” He stammers a little, but I tilt my ear toward him in interest. “I know I said you didn’t have to do the whole concierge thing with me anymore, but there is something I really want to do. And I’d like you to do it with me. Tomorrow. That is, if you want to.”

  “Is it a dangerous thing?” I ask cautiously.

  “No. It’s incredibly touristy. You might even think it’s cheesy.”

  I look at him with a twisted face. The truth is, whatever he asks, I’m going to say yes, no matter what it is.

  And damn my heart when he responds, “I want to see the sunrise.”

  Chapter EIGHTEEN

  I pick up Jax at the hotel at five thirty in the morning. I have two cups of Kona coffee, and blueberry muffins on hand, as a van takes us up Waimea Canyon.

  He said he wanted to see the sunrise, and there’s no better way than from the top of the Grand Canyon of the Pacific.

  “This isn’t frightening for you?” he asks when we reach the top. It’s still dark, but from the drive, he knows we’ve ridden quite a long way on an incline.

  “I’m good because I’ll be grounded. If we were skydiving, I’d have a problem.”

  Since it’s cool at the top, I advised Jax to dress in layers. We’re both wearing shorts and t-shirts with sweatshirts over them.

  I should have heeded my own advice and worn a little more as I stand here shivering, and goose bumps appear on my bare legs. I cross my arms and wait for the tour guide to get me a bike. Jax steps behind me and rubs my arms in an attempt to warm my chilled skin. I step closer to him to bask in his warmth.

  When the guide comes out with our bikes, Jax releases me to grab two helmets. With careful hands, he places one on my head and makes sure it’s fitted safely and secures the chin strap.

  I booked a private tour, so the van driver will follow behind us. With our helmets in place, we hop on our single-speed cruisers and start on the paved road that leads down the canyon.

  The sun has begun to rise, and the clouds are set low. The sun seems to be peeking up from the red rock of the canyon creating a sliver of heaven sneaking through the heavens to earth, and a cast of purple and blue paint the sky.

  The ride has us weaving down the side of the mountain where the view is temporarily obstructed by the trees. Jax is behind me as I pick up speed. Keeping to the right side of the road, I feel the cool wind on my face and inhale in the dewy scent of the fern that grows on the side of the mountain.

  About a mile down, there’s a break in the trees where I pull over. My breathing is harsh from the wind and exhilaration of the ride. Jax stops behind me, and together we look over the metal guard rail into the canyon.

  The clouds are rising with the sun, and a bright orange sphere quickly takes over the sky as it climbs. It’s awe-inspiring—if I could paint a canvas, this would be the scene I’d create.

  I look back to see if he’s witnessing what I am, but instead of looking at the view, he’s staring at me. The same way I just stood in awe of the sun coming up from the canyon is exactly how Jax is looking at me—like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world.

  “Ten miles to go!” I take off down the canyon.

  My eyes try to concentrate on the view— with its rippling rust colored mountains blanketed in green plant-life that cascades down the slopes—but it’s hard when you’re also making sure you don’t get hit by a car on the way down—not that there are many to avoid.

  We’re still high up in the canyon when we come to another scenic viewing area. I pull over with Jax at my heels.

  It’s astounding that a place created from an erosion and the catastrophic collapse of a volcano, a place that is literally formed from melted fire, is here before us and positively breathtaking. With it’s steep slopes and massive peaks, like the earthly progression of life’s emotions.

  There’s a waterfall deep within the canyon. It’s strong and ever flowing amongst a backdrop serenity. Hard red rocks covered in places by green stand strong with the ever-moving wish of the waterfall.

  “It looks like the heart of the canyon,” Jax says, nodding toward the waterfall. “Hang on.” He hops off his bike and walks toward me.

  Taking his phone out of his pocket, he puts his head close to mine, our helmets crashing into each other’s as he holds his arm out to take a picture.

  “Are we taking a selfie?”

  “You know you love it.” He hits the icon on the phone that flips the image so we can see ourselves on the screen.

  “Can I at least take off this ridiculous helmet?” I reach for the chinstrap, but he lowers his arm to my hands and swats them away from my neck.

  �
�You look adorable.” He holds the phone back out and smiles. I can’t help but grin right along with him.

  He takes three to make sure he gets the best one. With his phone back in his pocket, he hops on his bike. “Race you to the next lookout!”

  I get on mine and follow him down. The next stop isn’t too far away. When I get there, he waits for me to get off my bike before getting off his.

  The sun is shining brightly, and Jax fills me in on some of the more fun stories of the past few years. Like the time he and his friend, Neil went sky diving in Brazil.

  “Right of Rio de Janeiro with the statue of Christ the Redeemer as far as that peak over there.” He points out to the top of the canyon in the distance. It’s far, yet feels so close.

  “Neil’s in your band?”

  “Yeah. He’s the one who called the ambulance. I know you think they’re losers, but they’re okay guys.”

  “If they’re so great then why did you quit?”

  He rolls his head from side to side as he contemplates his answer. “I didn’t quit them. I quit the band. I’ll do whatever I can to help them reach success. It just took some time to realize their life isn’t the one I want for myself.”

  I lean my hip into the rail. “What kind of life do you want?”

  “A simpler one. Maybe buy a house and actually live in it for more than two weeks at a time. Go grocery shopping and bowling on Friday nights.”

  “Bowling?” The word comes out rudely. “I mean, it’s fun and all, I just think it’s interesting you’d give up a band for free Friday nights to hang out at the alley.”

  He laughs. “What can I say, I’m a Kingpin. You used to like it.”

  I roll my eyes. “What are you gonna do for work, then? Live off the Davis family fortune?”

  I meant it as a joke, but by the way his chin juts out toward me, I think I’ve insulted him until he smiles.

  “I still write songs for them. I just won’t perform.” He climbs on his bike and pushes the kickstand up with his heel. “Beat me to the next stop, and I’ll tell you about the time I landed in a jail in San Antonio.”