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I hear the jimmying of my porch gate. I’ve recently become an expert at listening for jimmying. Though I’m frozen to the ground, all the energy and wind knocked out of me. There’s nothing I can do about it.
And then Kal, the sexy Hawaiian, world champion at jimmying, is staring at me.
“Aloha, pupule,” he says, peering down at me. His thick brows are pinched together, and he’s wet. I watch as a drop of water falls from his glistening brown hair and onto my cheek, cold and startling.
I should say something, but there isn’t any air left in my lungs, so I can’t aloha him back or even scold him for jimmying. I can’t even tell him to stop dripping on me. I can’t tell him that Meg Miller is no scam. And I certainly can’t lie and tell him that he’s not nearly as sexy as he thinks he is.
11
Kal
My mother would definitely say that it’s never okay to scoop up a stranger and carry her into a residence that you haven’t been invited to. But I think my new friend Meg may be a little tipsy. And leaving her out here on the ground with all the wind knocked out of her doesn’t seem too gentlemanlike either.
I may be ready to play all day all the time, but I still have manners. Every good Samoan mama teaches their children manners. It’s in their blood.
I ignore the clear scent of chocolate coming in waves off the woman and carry her through the open sliding glass door at the back of her room. Again, I’m thankful I call Makani a friend. I’m sure he’s met this girl. He meets everyone who stays here. At least he can vouch that I’m not some creep in case she starts screaming.
I’m not dumb. I get this situation has the potential to go very wrong.And yet, here I am.
I peer around the woman’s room, the tall, blonde tourist still in my arms. Why haven’t I laid her down yet? Maybe I am stupid.
I swallow, check myself, and ignore the way Meg feels in my arms. I stoop, laying her on the bed. I haven’t removed my arm from beneath her yet, when—
“Are you here to seduce me?” she asks, peering up at me.
I lock my eyes on hers, ocean blue and searching.
“I hadn’t planned on it. Would you like to be seduced?”
She thinks a minute, oblivious to the fact that she’s still partly in my arms. I’m guessing a super-sober Meg would notice.
“I think I might,” she says. “It’s not really like me, but then, neither is a vacation.”
Her warm breath hits my face, the chocolate scent mixing with something a little… harder.
“Aw, I see you found the minibar. Why don’t we discuss a potential seduction after you’ve slept off your…” I see two cans on the dresser. “Lemonade.”
“What’s your name again?” she says, her eyes slit as if she’s thinking and it’s difficult.
“Kalani.”
“K—A—”
“You can call me Kal.” My name isn’t difficult—for the sober, at least.
She sighs, and more sweet cocoa and lemonade invade my senses. “You can kiss me now, Kal.”
I squint, studying her for only a second. Clearly, she isn’t herself. “Can I get a rain check on that? As tempting as it sounds, you aren’t completely…you, right now.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Meg, right?” I say, pulling my arm out from under her.
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, turning onto her side, facing me as I crouch next to her.
“I think I do. You remind me a little of my sister, Malia. She likes things neat and tidy too. Although, she allows herself one vacation a year.”
“I’m not anti-vacation,” she tells me.
