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I open up the passenger door and hop inside, offering him an easy grin. “Where to?”
He shifts into gear and we’re off. “You haven’t been to Hawaii unless you’ve been to a luau.”
“A luau.” A comfortable laugh falls from my lips. “Of course. I need to go to a luau.”
“You really do.”
There’s sand between my toes as we walk across the beach to the lights and noise of the party. We enter beneath a wooden arch that reads: ALOHA. Again—no walls, but there is an entrance. Women are dancing and savory spices and scents fill the air.
An older Polynesian woman at the entrance loops a purple-and-white floral lei over Kal’s head and then one over mine.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“Aloha,” she says, her smile wide and pretty.
There are green leaves encasing what I can see must be a giant pig in a pit in the middle of this outdoor party. Fire burns and coals spark around it. And the mouthwatering scent of crispy bacon wafts into the air.
“This way,” Kal says, his musky coconut concoction taking over the spices and pork filling my senses. He leads me to a space around the fire with two dozen strangers, and we sit.
A woman brings around pineapples, the tops cut off and the insides gutted with a mystery drink inside. There’s a straw and an umbrella tucked inside each fruity cup. She doesn’t ask what we want, she just delivers.
I laugh when she hands me the butchered pineapple with a blue paper umbrella.
“What?” Kal asks, leaning in close to hear me better above the noise.
“I’m drinking from a pineapple.” I shake my head and shrug. “It’s just funny.”
His breath is warm on my cheek when I turn to look at him.
“Yeah?” he says.
“Yeah. Sensible Meg never imagined drinking from a pineapple.”
“How does Spontaneous Meg like it?” he asks, and my eyes drop to his mouth—all on their own. It isn’t my fault. He’s so close.
It’s. All. His. Fault.
Or maybe it’s the pineapple’s fault. But it’s definitely not mine.
He’s close enough to make sure I can hear him. Close enough to ensure he hears me. Close enough to kiss.
“She loves it,” I tell him, lifting my eyes back to his.
He leans in, another inch closer. My breath hitches and I sit perfectly still. For a second, I think he might kiss me.
For a second, I think I might let him.
“Dinner is served!” A man yells above the crowd. He claps his hands and directs all our eyes to the massive buffet to our right. His call startles us back to the present.
Kal shifts, blinking awake and backing up from me.
His eyes drop to my lips once more, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t imagine what might have been. “Are you hungry?”
I nod, not even attempting to speak above the noise. Kal stands, and just like earlier today, he holds out a hand to me. Only this time he lifts me with a gentle tug, without hauling me into himself.
“How’s your leg?”
“Fine,” I say. “Just a scrape. It was a shame I had to remove that Superman bandage though.”
