Man Buns

by Shari J. Ryan

  Just as I reach behind me to open the door to the restaurant back up, I notice movement a couple of curb blocks away from where I’m standing.

  It’s a woman with her hair tied up into a messy knot. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her legs, and her cheek is resting on her knees.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, warily walking toward her. The closer I move toward her, the more I think I recognize who she is. The simple but perfectly fitted dress Kai had on tonight is dark, like this woman’s … and the heels. I noticed her heels end-capping her long, perfectly toned legs earlier. “Kai?”

  She doesn’t move at all. She didn’t even budge when I asked if she was okay. I quickly make my way to the other side of her, finding her eyes open, staring out into the distance. “I was hoping you would think I was sleeping and leave,” she mumbles.

  “You think I’d leave someone sleeping on a curb?”

  “A girl can hope, right?” she responds.

  “As most girls would hope, I’m sure.” My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, and she lifts her head and switches cheeks, facing away from me.

  “Why are you sitting out here?”

  “Why are you standing out here?” she asks.

  “Noa is my ride, and I almost forgot I was on a different island without anything that’s familiar to me.” It’s honesty. I’m lucky I know my name right now. I haven’t stopped running in the entire last month, preparing to pick up, suddenly leaving behind the life I lived for eight years.

  “I have my car, but I had too much to drink, so I’m sitting here until I’m sober,” she says, slurring her words a bit.

  Kai has been out here for at least a couple hours now. I’m surprised she hasn’t sobered up completely. “What about Lea?”

  “She’s passed out inside. She’s going home with Noa, plus she can’t drive, so that’s why I’m sitting here.”

  I reach my hand out to her. “Luckily, I’m stone sober. How about I drive you home? Do you live near the hotel by any chance? I can walk from there if you do. I need to get back to the hotel, so I can relieve Noa’s mom of babysitting duties.”

  “I’m about a ten-minute drive. That’s a long walk at night,” she mumbles.

  “Eh, I can handle it.”

  “No, no, I can just get a room at the hotel. It’s a perk of working there.”

  “Are you sure?” I’m pretty sure she’s sure. She can hardly keep her eyes open.

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  I’ve been reaching for her hand, but she either hasn’t noticed or isn’t ready to move. I lean in and scoop my hand around her arm and tug gently, seeing if she’ll comply, which she does.

  Once I have her standing, her head flops onto my shoulder. “Were you drinking more while you were out here?” I ask, jokingly.

  “No, were you?” she asks.

  “How are you still drunk, and which of the three cars are yours?” The only people left inside were the two chefs, Noa, and Lea, so it shouldn’t be hard for Kai to spot her car.

  “Low blood pressure or something,” she says, stumbling on a small rock.

  “That’s not good, “I tell her.

  “I’m fine,” she argues. “I’ve always been this way.”

  “Fair enough.” She’s heading in the direction of an old yellow Wrangler. “Is that yours?”

  “Yup.”

  “Keys?” I ask, holding my free hand out.

  She turns her entire body toward her dangling purse and reaches inside as if it were a foot deep. I hear the clinging and clanging of whatever else is in there, but it takes a solid minute before she retrieves a set of keys. “Don’t hurt Bee,” she says.

  “Bee?”

  “My Jeep.”

  “Oh, Bee, yellow, got it.”

  “My dad gave it to me before he died.”

  She doesn’t stutter or trip over her words. She announces her dad is dead as if she says it routinely every day.

  “I didn’t know. I’m—”

  “No, don’t. Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t sorry me.”

  “I won’t sorry you,” I repeat.

  She’s still moving on her own but with my support, and she’s heading in the direction of the driver’s seat. “I’m driving. Let’s get you over to the passenger side.”

  “No, I have to get in this way.”

  I want to laugh at the cute display of drunken behavior, but I know she’s going to feel like shit in the morning and probably be mortified.

  “Is there something wrong with the other door?”

  “Kinda,” she says. “It has to be unlocked from the inside.”

  Just as I’m about to explain to her that I can unlock it once I get inside, she unlocks the driver’s door and climbs in, obviously forgetting she’s in a dress.

  After an unexpected accidental glance at the world’s most perfect ass, accessorized with a white lacy thong, I decide to close my eyes and save myself from being the pig I’d rather be.

  She plops down into her seat, pulls the belt across her chest, and clips it into place. “Do you know how to drive a stick?” she asks with a suggestive raised brow.

  “Is that a loaded question?” I reply.

  “No, I don’t have a stick,” she says. “Only you do.” Kai whispers the last part.

  The man I once was, a day ago, would respond with a comment about my stick being a tree trunk, but I’ll keep my dirty jokes to myself for the moment.

  “You call a man’s penis a stick?” I ask.

  She gasps, horrified about something I said. I’ll go with penis. “No!” she blurts out.

  “You kind of just did,” I argue.

  Kai throws her head back against the seat. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Okay. Well, yes I’m familiar with a standard stick-shift.”

  “That’s what I meant,” she continues.

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Don’t argue with me,” she snaps.

  “Why?”

  A groan growls from her throat, and I’m having a rough time stopping myself from poking her, but my only intention is to get her somewhere safe tonight, so I’ll focus on that.

  “Take a left out of the lot and stay straight until you see signs for the highway.”

  “Got it.” Signs for the highway pop up, and I merge over to the on-ramp.

  “Why did you do that to me tonight?”

  I glance over at her for a split second before switching lanes. “I already told you why.”

  “What if my stupid sister didn’t tell you to?”

  “Well, now that’s not nice. Don’t go calling your sister stupid.”

  “She is, isn’t she?”

  “No. Lea isn’t stupid. You’re just angry.”

  “Well, what’s your answer?”

  “I would have picked you even if she didn’t ask me to. I felt like you deserved a little payback for the way you treated me this morning,” I say, toying with her.

  “I didn’t treat you like anything this morning.”

  “I know.”

  “So, how was I supposed to treat you? Like you’re royalty or something?”

  “Why are you so hot-tempered?” I hear the tired drawl coming out in my words, and I realize I’ve been bickering with this woman for what seems like half of the day today.

  “Why does everyone ask me that?” Kai replies with a true sense of questioning.

  “Maybe it’s because you have low blood pressure,” I offer as an excuse.

  “Nice try. I was lying.”

  I can’t help but laugh. She’s a riot without intending to be. “Am I taking the next exit?”

  “Maybe,” she says, glancing out her window.

  “Want to get to the hotel tonight or drive around until the sun comes up?”

  “Yes, it’s the next exit,” she answers.

  “You may want to let Lea or Noa know where you are. I don’t want them to worry about you,” I tell her.


  “Let ’em worry.”

  Okay, then I will text Noa myself. She must be like this all the time. Impossible.

  I spot the hotel sign and feel relieved that I was able to find it with little direction, thanks to lushy over here.

  “You can park in employee parking,” Kai says. That she can tell me, but directions, not so much. I pull into an empty spot, drop the clutch, and bring the gear to neutral. “Emergency brake.”

  “I told you, I’ve driven a stick before,” I remind her.

  “Ha! I knew it!”

  Damn. For being drunk, she’s incredibly quick-witted. “Happy now?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I’m going to come around and open your door, so you don’t have to climb over the seats again,” and flash me a second time. That would be tragically amazing.

  “Oh, no, I can open the door from here,” she corrects me, showing me that the door can, in fact, open from the inside.

  “Right, I had it confused,” I tell her.

  I hop out and rush around to her side, so I can make sure she doesn’t tumble over. “You’re confused because you’re drunk,” she squeaks as she tries to poke my nose but misses and pokes my eye. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry!” She snorts into laughter, covering her face as if that might cover the fact that she’s laughing. “Are you okay?”

  I rub at my eye, feeling a slight sting from the scratch her fingernail just left. “I’ll be okay.”

  She’s still laughing, holding her stomach, nearly unable to catch her breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Denver. Are you blind now?”

  For God’s sake. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Let me see,” she says, grabbing my face with both her hands. She yanks my head down to her eye level, forcing me to lean over pretty damn far. I’m looking into her eyes, and I feel the need to close mine to stop what’s happening inside of me. This fucking loneliness will eat me alive someday. Dating is almost impossible with Aya, and I’ve never dated anyone long enough that I felt comfortable bringing them to meet her. Sometimes I wonder if it’ll ever happen. In any case, Kai will be regretting all of this tomorrow, so there’s no sense in getting excited about a dumb, two-second, eye gaze. “I think I hurt you.”

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry,” I tell her.

  “No, you have a little blood spot on the white of your eye.”

  “I can see fine, so I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

  “I’m really sorry.” She’s sobering up right about now.

  “Kai, you’re fine.”

  “I like your accent,” she says. “Texas, right?”

  “Yes, Texas.”

  “Denver from Texas. Who did that to you?” she giggles.

  “I assume my parents had something to do with naming me.”

  “Yeah, probably,” she agrees, matching my seriousness.

  “Come on, let’s get you to a room.”

  “As long as it’s not yours, Wonder Buns,” she says.

  Yeah, I don’t think I’d ever be that lucky.

  Chapter Ten

  Kai

  This isn’t my bed.

  This.

  Is.

  Not.

  My.

  Bed.

  My eyes flash open, and there’s white. A lot of white, and a lot of sun. There’s no alarm. Where’s my phone? Where am I? Oh. Hotel.

  I snap up, feeling the rush of blood crash through my head like a tidal wave. Oh, God.

  I’m alone. Okay, that’s good. “Hello?” I call out, praying I truly am alone in here.

  No answer.

  Clothes?

  With one eye closed, I glance down, finding myself still in the dress I had on last night. Okay, that’s a good sign.

  I look in the other direction, finding an alarm clock blinking. That’s not going to help since I’m pretty sure it’s not midnight by the looks of that burning sun outside. Phone. Where is my phone? I look around the room and spot it on the other side of the king size bed. I feel like a mouse in this thing. I crawl across the sheets and snatch my phone, flipping it over as the display lights up.

  No messages. I hope Lea is okay. I shouldn’t have left her. Yes, I should have. She’s marrying Noa. I need to trust him with her. I’m on my own now. I just need to worry about me, and boy did I do a fine job with that last night. At least I’m in bed alone.

  Thankfully, it’s only seven, so I have a little time before I need to get downstairs for work. This is kind of nice. No commute. Big bed. I could live like this. Maybe after Lea moves out, I’ll take the hotel’s employment offer of a rent-controlled room here. I’d have to sell the house, though, and I’m not sure I’d be able to do that—get rid of what’s left of Mom and Dad’s life. The years have passed like pages of a book, but the memories are our bookmarks, and if I sell the book, everything inside will be gone too.

  I need to let go.

  I can’t.

  A loud thud against the door scares the crap out of me. “Room service,” a man shouts through the door.

  Huh? I don’t order room service. I slide out of bed and fix my dress, so it’s at least covering me correctly, which reminds me—I don’t have my bathing suit or shorts. Shit.

  I open the door, finding Amat, head of bellhop services, standing in front of me with a tray. He has a shit-eating grin splashed onto his tanned cheeks, and I’d like to let the door close in his face. “Good morning, Princess Kai.”

  “Agh,” I groan.

  “A man has sent you breakfast and something else.”

  “A man?” I question.

  A man. I don’t need to question him. I’m just playing dumb to avoid questions.

  “Yes, Kai, the opposite of a woman. A man. May I?”

  I open the door wider and allow him inside. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I’ll tip you later.”

  “It’s already been taken care of; no worries.”

  “Perfect,” I say, feeling a scowl pull at my lips.

  “I’d ask you why you were so dressed up for work today, or why you are staying in one of our guest rooms for that matter, but I saw for myself. Thank you for the early morning entertainment.” Amat laughs so hard, he has to hold onto his big belly. “Oh, Kai. One-beer-queer-Kai.”

  “Goodbye, Amat,” I seethe.

  “See you soon,” he says, jigging out of my room.

  I spot the tray of breakfast on the dresser. One dish with a silver cover, a set of silverware, a glass of pineapple juice, a carafe of coffee plus condiments, and a perfect, purple-laced lei that’s quickly filling the room with the pungent scent of plumeria.

  My stomach grumbles with hunger at all the scents, and I take the few steps over to the tray, finding a tented note on top of the flowers.

  I’m blushing. I haven’t even read a word yet, and I feel my cheeks already burning red.

  I open the note, finding neat handwriting, all the letters in capital form.

  * * *

  Kai,

  I hope you’re feeling okay this morning. I sent breakfast as a peace offering since I embarrassed you last night, which again, I’m sorry about.

  I don’t know you well enough to make a joke about the lei, and if I did make a joke, you’d likely roll your eyes since you were born and raised here. We didn’t get many leis (see … no pun intended) on base, so they’re still new to me. I hope I got the right one. There’s an extra flower for your hair. I noticed you had a white one last night, and you made a white flower look pretty incredible, so I wanted to see what purple might look like. ;)

  Hope you like hot cakes as much as you like man buns.

  OO

  Denver

  The laughter flows freely from the bottom of my gut. I don’t know what it is, but his humor is like a breeze of fresh air in the staleness of my life. Lost in the moment of warm cheeks, flutters in my chest, and laughter, I forgot about the whole bathing suit uniform I need for work. Maybe Lea is home. Doubt it, but maybe.

  I dial Lea’s number while removin
g the hot cover from the pancakes. The steam hits me in the face, and from the aroma, I know it’s delicious without even taking a bite.

  Lea’s phone rings three times before I hear an overly chipper, “Hi!”

  “Good morning.” I grab the fork and cut a line down the center of the fluffy stack.

  “Are you at the hotel?” she asks, sounding only mildly worried.

  “Yeah, how did you know?” I shove more food in my mouth than necessary and turn around to find a chair. It tastes so good that I need to quickly enjoy this breakfast to its fullest. I usually just grab a granola bar while running out of the house, so this is totally a treat.

  “Denver texted Noa to let him know you were okay and in a room at the hotel last night. Did you two—”

  “No, Lea.”

  “Just wondering,” she squeaks. “He’s like, seriously, like the most perfect human being for you, though. You can’t deny that.”

  “He’s a Man Bun,” I remind her.

  “Okay, first, that’s not a noun or a title. Two, Noa pushed him into it. Third, he can freaking sing, Kai. I was even getting all excited listening to him, and hello … it was my engagement party,” she says, giggling.

  Memories of last night filter into my foggy head. He did sing to me. He sang the wrong words to I’ll Make Love to You and made it sound just as good as Boyz II Men did. Impressive … even if I wanted to melt into the ground due to humiliation and gawking stares.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Lea interrupts my recollection. “No one was paying attention to you, trust me. No need to be embarrassed.”

  “Yeah, thanks anyway for setting that up,” I tell her, doing little to hide my sarcasm.

  “You need to live a little, and you might tell me you’re mad, but I know you enjoyed the hell out of that last night. You wouldn’t have let him drive you home if you didn’t.”

  “He didn’t drive me home, and I wasn’t going to sleep on the curb of Man Buns.”

  “We would have driven you home,” she says, simply. I’m not sure why I didn’t consider that little fact last night. Unless, maybe I did, and willingly chose to take the ride from Denver instead. Though I do remember not wanting to leave my car at Man Buns. Plus, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. “I wasn’t leaving my car there all night.”