A is for Alpha

by Kate Aster

  Because I want her to stay here.

  Because even though I don’t do commitment, I’d be open to a series of back-to-back flings with her that might last a good, long time.

  Yet that’s probably not what any woman wants to hear.

  Raising her hand to my lips, I press a kiss to her palm. “Well, at least you’re not leaving right away. We’ll have some fun together before then, give you something to remember back home.”

  She looks at me quizzically. “So you think I should take it?”

  No.

  “You always said it’s your dream job,” I tell her instead, remembering what she’d told me that day on the beach—that day when we’d both seemed content to have a fling.

  Back then, I’d cared about her.

  I had grown to care a lot more.

  And now? Well, shit. It doesn’t matter what I feel because she’s going anyway. There’s a tightness in my throat I don’t enjoy. I swallow hard, forcing the feeling downward. Yet it bubbles up again.

  “Hey—how about we take Stella to Kealakekua Bay for a little snorkeling tomorrow?” I need to change the subject like I need my next breath. If I don’t, I might beg her to stay.

  Her lips press together for a moment. “I can’t. Kaila and I got our first booking.”

  “Really?”

  “It just came in about a half-hour ago. A couple at an AirBNB wants to celebrate their anniversary without their kids. They’ve asked for the full treatment. Lei-making, plastic ukes, even a hula lesson.”

  I remember the couple from the Dancing Coconut. I got her that job, dammit. And now, selfishly, I’m regretting it. Because now, every minute I get with her seems a little more precious as the clock ticks away on her time here.

  “That’s great.” I tell her. Or maybe I’m telling myself. “Okay. Another time.”

  I pay her then, because that’s what I do. She tells me she doesn’t want to be paid for watching Stella anymore, now that she has other babysitting jobs on the horizon. But I give her the money anyway because it might actually last longer than a relationship with me will.

  Not that I have any say in that matter, apparently.

  This is what I wanted, I remind myself as I kiss her at the door, taking in her breath as I do and feeling as though it fills my sorry excuse for a soul.

  My hands caress her sides. I just want to hold her close, let the warmth of her seep into me and somehow erase this reminder that relationships are fleeting things.

  After I watch her walk to her car, I soothe myself by peering into Stella’s room again. It calms me somehow, reminds me of the important things.

  Stella’s safe.

  Stella’s healthy.

  The irony of life almost makes me smile. Almost.

  Here I am, a single guy who never wanted to settle down. And now I’m standing here watching a little girl sleep like an angel, telling myself that if she’s okay, then I don’t have a damn reason to complain.

  “Hey.” Fen’s voice is low as he walks in behind me just a few minutes later. I glance his way and see him carefully set down his keys to not disturb Stella.

  I only nod a greeting as I watch him head straight to the refrigerator for a beer. He takes it in his hand, glances at the surfer on the label either to confirm that he’s drinking a local beer or maybe just to remind himself that he’s really living in paradise, and then pops the cap with a bottle opener.

  “She asleep?” he whispers as he sidles up next to me.

  I give a single nod, then shut Stella’s door, careful to not let the doorknob click. “Surprised to see you home. Annie said you were out with some tourist.”

  “Yeah. She was pretty hot.” He stretches out on the sectional. “But she suspected something when I told her I couldn’t bring her back to my place. I explained about Stella, but I think she figured I was hiding a wife or something.”

  I give my head a somber shake. “Gotta hate those women who have principles.” My tone is thick with sarcasm.

  A smile slides up his face. “Yeah, really. Speaking of, how’s Annie? Anything new?”

  “Not really.” I pause, grabbing his half-full beer that he’s set on the coffee table and stealing a swig. “Annie got a job offer back in D.C.,” I eventually add.

  He swings his legs down to the floor. “Aw, man. She’s not going anywhere before Stella leaves, right? Stella would be so sad.”

  “I doubt it. They don’t need her till the new school year starts.”

  He gives an abrupt nod in relief. “Good. Well, then, good for her.”

  “You think?”

  “Of course,” he answers as he turns on the TV and quickly drops the volume down to a barely perceptible level. He grimaces a moment when he sees we left it on a news network and then quickly turns it to an MMA fight he DVRed earlier. Then his hand stills in the air with the remote as he glances my way.

  “Oh. Wait.” He eyes me. “Do you need comforting or something? ’Cause I don’t know how to do that.”

  I recoil slightly. “Of course not.”

  He gives a nod and his eyes return to the TV. Then, his gaze tracks back to me, making me feel uneasy.

  “’Cause you look like you might need a hug.” Then he snorts unabashedly.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “I am. I really am.” His face is nearly red from holding back laughter. “So you’re going to just let her go?”

  “What am I supposed to do? Tie her up and keep her here?”

  “No. Well, unless she’s into that sort of thing. But you’re not that lucky of a guy, are you?” He swallows a cackle as he finishes his beer. “I just mean, tell her you love her and want her to stay.”

  “I love her?”

  His eyes roll. “Don’t go trying to tell me you don’t. Hell, I’m practically in love with her and so is Dodger. I mean, what the hell does she put in our laundry to make it smell so good, right?”

  I frown. “Okay, so maybe I do love her. But I’m not cut out for commitment. I’ve tried that before and it doesn’t sit right with me.”

  “Wait a minute. You mean that time you were engaged?”

  “Yeah. What else would I mean?”

  “Oh, hell.” He waves a hand through the air. “Don’t try to tell me your issue with commitment has anything to do with that.”

  My arms fold across my chest defensively. “So what’s my issue, then?”

  “You’re mad because the Rangers dumped you.”

  I scoff. “What?”

  “Come on. You loved being a Ranger. You were damn good at it, too. Purple Heart. Bronze Star for valor. You committed everything to them. You nearly gave your life for it. Then they go and tell you you’re not good enough for them anymore.”

  “They had to. They were right.”

  “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” He sits up again. “You made a commitment. The biggest commitment you could. Your life. Your honor. Your everything. And they took you—used you—and tossed you away when you weren’t perfect enough for them anymore. Hell, even I’m pissed off at them for that.”

  I can feel the creases deepen on my brow. “I knew the risks going in. And I could have stayed in the Army.”

  “Sure. But you can’t tell me that didn’t sting.”

  My chin tucks in toward my chest. I think about Dana, that doe-eyed girl I once thought I loved. Looking back, I wonder if it was even the real deal or not.

  But then I think about the Rangers. They were my brothers, a bond just as strong as the one I share with Fen and Dodger.

  I’d hoped to command the Regiment one day. That was my goal. And when I’d been injured, I’d stepped aside without hesitation because that was best for the team. After my recovery at Walter Reed, I’d packed my things and watched someone new slide into my role, reminding me how easily I could be replaced.

  Could Fen, with his comically teenage mentality, actually be right?

  “Look, if you aren’t ready to admit that you’re ape-shit crazy for An
nie, that’s fine. But don’t pretend you’re doing it because some insignificant girl dumped you years ago. Makes you look like a wuss, man. Seriously.” He swings his legs around and stretches out on the leather again.

  I stare at the side of his head for a moment as he watches the fights. “Okay,” I concede. “So, maybe that is it. Then what’s the story with you?”

  “Hmm?” he asks still staring at the TV as if he’s forgotten the entirety of our previous conversation.

  “You’ve figured out why I don’t like commitment. But you—what’s the deal with you? Worried someone will dump you? Cheat on you? What?” I ask.

  “I’m not worried about any of that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  His gaze turns stormy. “I don’t want to cheat on anyone. I don’t want to disappoint anyone like that. Cheaters suck and I don’t want to be one of them.”

  “So… don’t.” I dare to state the obvious.

  “Right. I won’t. If I don’t commit to someone, then I can’t cheat,” he points out.

  “Brilliant plan.”

  “No worse than yours,” he grumbles. “Now will you leave me to the fights here? You don’t like me watching them when Stella’s awake. So I have to take advantage.”

  I stand, my eyes moving from my brother to the photo on the wall of the three of us in our uniforms. Then I look at Stella’s closed door.

  I hate that Fen’s right.

  I say that I don’t do commitment.

  I say that it doesn’t suit me.

  Yet I commit to my brothers. To my country. To the little girl in the other room.

  And whether or not I’m ready to admit it, I’m committed to Annie.

  And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her leave Hawaii—tomorrow or next month or next year—without her knowing it.

  Chapter 26

  ~ ANNIE ~

  Looking back, I’m not sure what I expected.

  I remind myself this as I take in a lungful of ocean air and step closer to the water, letting the incoming wave bury my feet. It should soothe me, like it always did before. But this time, it doesn’t.

  Cam’s made it pretty clear he’s not looking for forever from me or anyone. And seeing as I’d always seen my life continuing on the East Coast one day, I was fine with it.

  But now, with the ocean drawing me near again like it always does, I’m not fine with it at all.

  My present mood contradicts the way I should be feeling right now. Kaila and I just finished our first official job together as new business owners, and she’s already feeling confident enough to talk about cutting back on her hours at the Queen K. I should feel confident, too, with a sizable check in my pocket, and an appointment at a local bank to talk to them about opening up an account for our business. Thanks to Cam, I’ll even be able to tell them my name—my full name—without my heart seizing up in my chest.

  Pressing my eyes shut, I let the cool breeze flow over me and try to picture myself back in D.C. again in a matter of months, trying to embrace the goals that I once had. I pretend I’m there for a moment, standing at the National Mall with the striking architecture and monuments around me, feeling the pulse of the city. Or walking through one of its many top-ranking college campuses, like Georgetown or George Washington or American, and soaking up their intellectual vibe and endless opportunities.

  I even try picturing myself standing at the carpool line at the famed private school where I’d once longed to work—helping the kids into their awaiting minivans and SUVs. I imagine their chatter after a full day, and their heads brimming with new knowledge and dreams for their future.

  But I don’t feel a part of the scenes that I paint in my mind. Not anymore. So when the next wave strikes my calves a brief moment later, I open my eyes.

  The sun is making its slow path toward the horizon and the usual mix of tourists, locals, and malihini like me has gathered at A-Bay.

  It’s better with someone you love at your side though, I consider, my thoughts drifting to Cam again. This evening, I can’t help remembering when I saw him here that night we had dinner at the Dancing Coconut—and that feeling of being held by him for the first time when a rogue wave had nudged me into his grasp.

  My eyes track along the water toward the horizon. No breach awaits me, but I do see two whale spouts—such a sight with the looming profile of Maui in the distance across the ‘Alenuihaha Channel.

  “Whales!” I shout, right along with a couple other people near me. A family—their pale skin revealing their tourist status—glances in my direction. I point out the spouts for them, rewarded by gasps from their kids who look to be young teenagers—that age when they don’t even want to be with their parents. But at this moment, with the spectacle of Mother Nature putting on a show for us, they don’t seem to mind.

  Ohana, I can’t help thinking as my sights move from them to the many others who share this view with me tonight.

  Family. I didn’t need Kaila to teach me the Hawaiian word for it. Ohana is one of the first ones you pick up here because it means something deeper than just a label you give to those who share your bloodline.

  It’s the bond that inspires a guy like Cam to take in the child of someone who doesn’t even share his name. It’s that pull that allows us to enjoy a sunset with complete strangers without diminishing the perfection of the moment. It’s the compelling urge to shout when a whale surfaces because you desperately need to share the beauty of it with others.

  This island gave me that sense of ohana when I needed it. It gave me sanctuary. And I don’t want to be one who just accepts its healing powers and leaves. I want to give back something in return.

  An idea stirs inside me until I pull my phone from my back pocket and dial Kaila.

  “You just can’t get enough of me, can you?” her voice teases when she answers since we just parted ways less than an hour ago.

  “I guess not. Any new jobs in?”

  “One for Tuesday,” she answers.

  My eyes widen. “Seriously?”

  “Yep. I was just about to call you.”

  I shake my head to clear it, not letting myself get distracted by our apparent success. “Listen, I had a thought just now. And I want you to give me your honest opinion on it.”

  “You know I will.”

  Yes, I know she will. Which is why I like being her friend now so damn much. “Okay, so you know how all these resorts pay next to nothing.”

  “I’ve got the scant paycheck to prove it,” Kaila answers.

  “Right. Now imagine if you had kids.” As my idea formulates fully, my thoughts flit back to the security officer at the Queen K I met on my last day of work there. I never heard from him; he struck me as someone with too much pride to take me up on my offer of free babysitting for his kids. “You’re making less than you’d probably pay in child care,” I point out to Kaila.

  “Sure,” Kaila answers. “Tourists are the only ones on this island who’ll be able to afford babysitters like us.”

  “And don’t you hate that?”

  “Well, yeah. But I’ve got bills to pay. You know?”

  “Right. Me, too. But what if we tried to start some kind of babysitting co-op on the side for residents.”

  “A what?”

  “A co-op,” I say again. “You know, like maybe you could talk to some of your friends who work at other resorts and get them in on it with us. Then we could see if one of the community centers down in Kona or up in Waimea would give us some space. If we had a bunch of people like us who could volunteer some time, we could stagger our hours so that we can cover a shift or two for residents who wouldn’t be able to afford child care otherwise.”

  “And you want to do this… while we’re just starting up a business?” She draws the question out a beat or two as though her brain is still wrapping around the idea.

  I feel the warmth of the sun’s rays on me as it drifts lower in the sky and I swear I feel empowered by it—stronger, like I could fin
d the energy right now to do anything. “Yeah. I do. I want to at least try.”

  Kaila laughs. “Look who swallowed a rainbow.”

  “Oh, shut up. Do you hate the idea or something?”

  “Hell no. I love it. We could start small, like just a few hours after school lets out, and see how it goes.” She pauses a moment. “But you’re sounding less and less like a malihini. Makes me wonder if you have any plans of leaving us when that new job on the mainland opens up.”

  My gaze drifts slowly out to the horizon again. “Kaila, I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

  When I close the conversation with her a few minutes later, I tap a text into Sam.

  “How would you feel about visiting me on the Big Island?” I tap in. “Because I think I’m meant to stay here.” I bite my lip after I hit send, remembering that it’s late there, and my text might wake her.

  So I’m all the more grateful when her immediate reply doesn’t include a rebuke. Instead, it reads simply, “About time you figured that out.”

  The bottom tip of the sun has just touched the blue horizon. I find myself wading deeper into the water, drawn to its beauty.

  Calf-deep in the water now, I slide my phone into my back pocket, resisting the urge to send a similar text to Cam.

  How would he react, I wonder? Would it put too much pressure on him to tell him I’m sticking around?

  “Annie.”

  With Cam in the forefront of my mind, I almost think the voice is one that I conjured up in my imagination. But then I feel my spine tingle at his presence, and I turn. The sight of him is a salve to me, healing to my soul.

  Wordless, I smile—just as a wave smacks me in the back of my thighs. I lunge forward to protect the phone in my pocket, then stumble into his arms.

  “Haven’t I told you before not to turn your back on the ocean?” he chuckles, pulling me upward as the water recedes.

  “Maybe you should stop sneaking up on me.”

  “I’m a Ranger. I specialize in sneak attacks.” And as though to confirm that statement, he bends over and presses his lips to mine. There’s nothing tentative in his kiss and I savor the feel of it until he pulls back. “Like that one.”