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“Yeah right. As if,” I say, turning into a 90s teenage girl.
“Hey, I was pretty much Mr. Prepared today. I fixed up your knee pretty slick.” He crosses his arms over that bare, chiseled chest—the one that I’m still not looking at.
“Okay, but if we’re giving one of us a prepared award, we both know who’s earning that baby.” I snatch my things from the floor of Kal’s Jeep but pause my sudden quick exit. “Thank you,” I say, peering back at him, keeping my eyes on his. And nowhere near those abs. Even as he flaunts them in my face, I refuse to look. “I had fun.”
“It was a good morning.” He nods, releasing his arms from their fold.
“I’m going to bed,” I say, feeling as if it’s been a twenty-four-hour event rather than a six-hour adventure.
“A nap, you mean,” he says. “It’s only three. And we have plans tonight, Miss Spontaneous Meg.”
My brows lift, and my lips twinge with the temptation to smile. “We do?”
“We do. So make sure you’re awake and ready by six.”
I nod and don’t even ask what it is we’ll be doing, because this week I’m Spontaneous Meg. And I don’t need to know—at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I leave Kal and head back into my room. There’s a fruit tray and a bottle of sparkling water on the dresser next to my bed. And suddenly, I am famished. Did Mr. Prepared ever think to feed me?
A note next to the spread reads:
I hope you had a beautiful day. -Makani
My bed is made, my minibar restocked, and my bathroom replenished. The maid has been here but so has my friendly resort clerk.
I want to rest—but food and a shower come first.
I fill my three hours, no time to miss my new friend or stress over where he may be taking me. I eat and bathe and rest my head for twenty whole minutes before picking up my phone and scrolling through the dozens of photos I took today. I reach the beginning—the one of me and Kal. He’s driving, and I’m grinning modestly for the selfie—with no clue at what’s to come. His dark hair is wisping in the wind and sunglasses cover his chocolatey brown eyes. Though, nothing can hide the definition of his broad shoulders, and my memory pulls up all too easily that sculpted torso. After not falling asleep, I decide I need to prepare for tonight.
Even spontaneous girls prepare a little…right?
I’m suddenly thankful Kal insisted we swap numbers, just in case we got separated in the trees and brush. As he added his number into my phone, I told myself I’d simply block him later, like he did with Kyle. Later…when this life is no longer mine, when I put Spontaneous Meg to bed, possibly never to see the light of day again.
Me: Hey. What should I wear tonight?
Kal: Whatever you want?
Me: Okay…but if we’re going to another wedding reception, I’d rather not wear my swimsuit.
Kal: Why not? It worked out last time.
My cheeks burn with the memory of my lavalava falling right off my body in the middle of Kal’s family event. “Spontaneous Meg doesn’t care,” I tell myself.
Me: No help at all?
Kal: None. You are Spontaneous Meg. Wear whatever you want. My only suggestion—no pants.
I peer down at his text and chuckle. The man has some major issues when it comes to long pants.
I opt for my white, sleeveless summer dress, my crossover sandals, and of course, my Boy Scout beach bag. You never know when you might need rope.
I wait outside the gate for Kal’s Jeep. Trusting this man comes way too easily. Probably not my brightest choice. But Spontaneous Meg shoves those doubts beneath the sand, hiding them, so she can live in the moment.
Less than a minute later, my heart races with the rumble of Kal’s Jeep engine and the sight of him in the driver’s seat.
What does he have planned for us tonight?
His khaki shorts and white short-sleeved button-up mimic my own outfit. Wherever we’re going, I think I’m dressed for it.
