Her eyes widened of their own accord. “What do you mean? Try how? I don’t know what else we could be doing to have more of a vacation together.” But she knew, she just wanted me to spell it out for her.
I had no problem doing that. Some things I’d wanted to say to her for the longest time. “Let’s be married. Let’s really be on our honeymoon.” There, I said it. I threw the option out there and now it was left to the fates of the Hawaiian Islands to pull us together.
“Everything? A complete honey... moon?” Fear raised her voice to a higher level and she swallowed.
My heart hurt that the idea of being married to me, being intimate with me scared her. I plowed forward anyway because that was it. That was my last chance to really make a go of it. “One-hundred percent. Let’s be married. Let’s have the honeymoon we were supposed to come down here to have.” It was probably going to be the closest I would be able to have to a proposal until she saw how perfect we would be together.
She studied me. And I never felt more insecure. Kayla leaned forward, chewing the side of her lip and looking all around the restaurant. “Why can’t you be happy with how—”
The waitress stood at our table, eyebrows raised and two plates in her hands. “Chicken teriyaki burger and the jalapeno Aloha burger?”
We sat back, nodding and smiling politely. Kayla focused on her food, sipping her drink and dipping a fry in a small cup of fry sauce.
We both relished the escape from the topic. I didn’t want to give her the chance to turn me down and she probably didn’t want me to push it further.
Chapter 15
KAYLA
Dylan was a persistent butt. I agreed with his proposal just to get him to back off. Plus, the way he looked at me with his dark soulful expression, he was going to pull from me a declaration of love that I didn’t want to hold him to. So what if I loved him? So what if he was more important to me than anyone else in the world? It wasn’t enough to put everything on the line.
The only thing that helped me agree was his promise that everything would be back to normal, if it didn’t work out. With me, though, it wasn’t if... it was when things didn’t work out.
I shouldn’t agree to a few romantic days on the island with my best friend. I needed the romance, too. If we could promise to go back to normal afterwards, then I would be able to have the best of both worlds, like a friends-with-benefits kind of situation. My mom had asked me if Dylan and I were that way a while back. I’d laughed because the idea was intriguing even though I never pursued it.
The fact that I found the idea intriguing, and the fact that it loomed in front of me as we stood in front of the hotel doors didn’t make anything any easier.
I spun to Dylan, and grabbed his arm. My fingers tightened and I yanked to get his attention. “Let’s go for a swim. I’m still full after dinner.” We had already had a full day of hiking and being out, but I couldn’t go into that room alone with him at night with the idea of going to bed ahead of us.
Not yet.
As delicious as he was, I wasn’t ready for that level yet. With all of his experience and my less-than-the-amount of experience, I could only imagine how I would fall short. A dark room mixed with our agreement didn’t bode well for my nerves.
Dylan’s all-knowing grin spread his lickable lips but he agreed and even went into the bathroom to change and give me my own privacy. He was tender and sweet and I was stupid for fighting my draw to him.
How long would it take for him to break through my defenses there on that island with promises riding on the air? Not long.
How long would it take for me to push him away once we hit physical intimacy? Not long.
Unfortunately, we were doomed and I really hoped we would be able to resume our lives when we returned to reality. Deep down in the pit of my stomach, in the very corners of my soul, I knew nothing would ever be the way they were before I got on that plane. But if I was good at one thing, it was denial.
We found our way to the water. I pushed myself further from the shore to keep a little bit more distance between him and I. Hiding under the water was every woman’s self-defense mechanism when we wore skimpy clothes swimming.
My walls slowly deteriorated and I couldn’t have him close. If he touched me, in the warm water, with the sand beneath my toes and the salt flavoring the smooth parts of his skin, I doubted my control would be present. I wouldn’t be able to stay off him and I would have more to curse than the small amount of alcohol I’d consumed in Princeville.
We had agreed to a full honeymoon. I was anxious and also a little excited. I wanted to be appealing to him but just recently he’d seen me throwing up. How appealing could I be?
“So, are you excited to finally be married?” Dylan pulled the topic out into the forefront. He wasn’t one to let things be unspoken. I usually liked that about him. This time, though, I was under the microscope and I didn’t like being inspected.
Given who asked, though, I considered his question and gave him a serious answer. He deserved that from me. “Yeah, I am actually. This island needs romance.” But that didn’t mean I was going to close the distance between us. I moved my hands around me as if I tread water, but I was still standing and my chest was above the surface.
Soft waves moved me in the water and I wiggled my feet deeper in the silky sand.
Dylan ducked under the water, the setting sun reflecting on the dancing top surface, keeping him from view. Where was he? Where had he gone? He liked his games, but we were playing in the ocean and the danger of riptides was real.
Suddenly, he tugged on my leg until I sank below the surface. Still able to touch, I thrust myself up from the bottom and came up spluttering and slapping at the water around me. He returned to his position a few feet away, laughing and wiping his face. A swath of hair dripped water down the side of his face and I wanted to trace the water’s route with my finger.
“You’re such a butt.” I couldn’t stop laughing, rolling my eyes and throwing my now-wet hair into a loose braid.
He closed the space between us in seconds and caught me in his arms. Dylan had broken down my discomfort and returned me to a state of contentment again. I ignored that we were supposed to be intimate together and just reveled in the feeling of being in Dylan’s arms. We were friends, best friends. The tingling in my skin was normal. Fluttering in my stomach was acceptable, considering how handsome he was and how much he made me aware of myself and him.
I studied his face, my arms around his neck. We weren’t more than a few inches away from each other. I spoke quietly, with a hushed reverence for the moment. “How do you know exactly what I need to feel better about things?” It was an honest question that came in the honest moment.
“I’m the perfect husband.” He winked and pushed my newly-braided hair off my shoulder. His hand lingered, the heat of his palm confusing but not unwelcome.
I arched my eyebrow at him and slid him a grin. “You are, huh? What makes you perfect?” I could play his game. A little bit of flirting never hurt anybody, especially with how he was playing me.
“I know the best things about you, and the worst things, and I still care.” He held my gaze until he bent his head low enough to kiss my shoulder. His lips were hot and I got goose bumps that spread from the spot where he touched me.
He pulled back as I tried to catch my breath. He leaned forward and our lips were inches apart.
A burning pain ripped through the back of my calf. I jerked away from Dylan and screamed. That was all I could do. I caught my breath and whimpered as the pain throbbed deep in my skin.
Dylan didn’t wait and lifted me up into his arms, running and pushing as fast as he could to get to the beach. On the sand, he laid me down on the towel, face down, and he examined my calf. The cool gentleness of his touch didn’t sooth the angry sting in my skin.
I couldn’t help myself. I gave in and cried. The pain was so intense it shot down to my foot and up the back of my leg. My leg began to spa
sm and I sensed a massive Charlie horse moments away.
Dylan’s voice cut through my tears. “I think you were stung by a Portuguese man-of-war.”
Alarmed, I tossed a glance over my shoulder at him. I saw that Friends episode. Great. Just when I was willing to pursue something with him, we had to pee on each other. “Do you have to pee on it to make it feel better?” I was not peeing on my leg, and I didn’t want Dylan to urinate on me either.
Getting stung wasn’t good. The Portuguese man-of-war was not a good omen for our marriage decision. I was clutching at anything to try to back out of our arrangement and I knew it. We had almost kissed and all of my insecurities from college rushed back over me.
“I’m not peeing on you.” Dylan flipped me over, wrapped me in a towel, and lifted me in his arms again. He carried me swiftly to the back of the restaurant sitting beside our hotel. He knocked on the back door until someone came.
“Do you guys have any vinegar? She was stung by a man-of-war.” The urgency in his voice compelled the restaurant worker to open the door further.
He looked at my leg peeking from beneath the towel and shook his head. “Actually, the best thing for that is more ocean water. Let me help you. Did you get the stingers out?” He searched Dylan’s face, ignoring me as if I wasn’t there.
Dylan shook his head, holding me steady.
The man disappeared and I worried he was leaving us there without helping us.
I struggled not to give in to the waves of pain as they rushed in and out like a thousand bee stings.
When the worker returned he had a flat plastic knife which he scraped carefully across the back of my leg. There was nominal relief when he pulled out the tiniest barbs, but the stinging was still present.
He wiped the residue from the knife on a napkin and he studied my calf. “I think I got them all. Get her back to the beach and rinse that with water. The salt water is better than vinegar or urine. Don’t use fresh water. It will make it worse.” Our Good Samaritan nodded tightly at Dylan and as he ducked back inside we could hear him calling to someone else. “Just tourists trying to reenact that dumb Friends episode.”
Dylan rushed me back to the water’s edge, careful not to put me back into the water. I’d started shaking. He scooped warm ocean water onto my calf with his hands. The wounds soon began to throb less and less until it was just a dull ache.
The instant ebbing of pain released me and fatigue came in to replace it. I was so tired. My relief tried to take me under into sleep. I leaned against Dylan’s strength, stretching to get closer to the delicious smell of his cologne and the ocean.
Dylan carried me carefully back to the hotel. My arm wrapped around his neck and I winced. “I guess our wedding night is out.” I softly chuckled to take away the rejection in my words but Dylan looked as pained as I felt.
Chapter 16
DYLAN
Worry over Kayla amped up my adrenaline. Her scream had been bloodcurdling and I wished I had been stung and not her. I carried her carefully back to the condo.
“Do you want to take a bath? Or would you rather just go to bed?” I set her gingerly on her good leg while I unlocked the door and let us in
After I got inside, I looked up man-of-war stings on my phone. The information I found said she’d be in pain for a few hours but as long as there wasn’t any swelling or difficulty breathing she’d probably be fine.
Fresh water was bad as long as the stingers or barbs were still in there, but the man had gotten them out. She needed to relax and a bath was the best place to put her.
She’d gotten rather quiet since the water and I was worried she might be having problems with an allergic reaction.
“A bath sounds nice.” She spoke softly and held onto my arm to steady herself.
I opened the bathroom door and helped her limp into the bathroom. Running a warm bath, I turned, so she could get into the bathtub with some privacy. After she settled in and drew the curtain up to cover her body from the neck down, I turned and knelt on the ground beside the tub.
Kneeling beside her, I wrung out the washcloth and handed it to her. Where I was still wasn’t comfortable so shifted to sitting on my rear end with my back to the tub, my forearms resting on my knees. I leaned my head back and stared at the light reflecting in the mirror. “That was one way to end the evening.”
She reached over, taking a chunk of my hair in her fingers and twisting it. She spoke softly, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to speak. Her touch was intoxicating, but she was injured and I wasn’t going to force the issue we’d agreed on earlier. “Why are you pushing us? You never did this at home.”
My head was still angled back but I tilted it so I could see her face. “Because I believe in us. We’re too good together to throw away.” The moment was raw and deserved nothing less than brutal honesty.
“Why would we have to throw us away?” She lifted her head to look at me more fully.
She presented my chance to me as if on a silver platter, the opportunity to really make a statement and try to get through to her. “Because I’m in love with you and all your quirks and your generosity and everything. It hurts. I’ve always felt this way. You don’t see me. Not the me that I am. Not the man that I am.”
“I do see you. You’re amazing. You’re better than any guy I’ve ever met. You’re the one I compare all my dates to. Every man falls short compared to you.” She was vehement.
I was the one she compared them to? “Then why not give me a real chance? Give us a chance?”
She shook her head sadly, releasing my hair and dropping her hand back into the bath water. She looked up toward the ceiling, tears in her voice. “I told you...”
I shook my head in return and held up my hand as I pushed away from the tub. “No. I’ve heard it. I’ve never left you. Sixteen years. It’s been sixteen year and I’ve never left.”
She reached up to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me back down to my knees. She leaned over the bath so her chest was against the tub. She reached up, putting her hand behind my neck and pulling me down.
Our lips touched, gently at first and then harder as if we were starved for contact. After a long moment we disconnected, her breath hitching and panting. Her luminescent blue gaze snagged mine. We were just inches away from each other. “My leg is fine... Don’t sleep on the floor tonight...”
Chapter 17
KAYLA
I woke with a yawn, enjoying the nest of blankets and the warmth of Dylan’s arms wrapped around my waist.
My naked waist.
My eyes snapped opened and I stared at the sunlit curtains which were drawn across the sliders the night before. I was comfortable in Dylan’s arms, like I always was. I was also worried that he was going to wake up before I could get up to brush my hair, brush my teeth, and try to look gorgeous for him. Normally I didn’t care what I looked like around Dylan. He got me as I was.
After the night we spent together, I was worried we would never be comfortable around each other again. Not au natural like normal.
How was I going to do this? Would I move his arm and roll out from under it? Would I slowly creep out from under his hand and let his arm fall down to the mattress once I’d snuck away? Would I hold it up while I slid out from under the sheets and the weight of his arm? The logistics were dizzying and before I could come up with a solid plan he stirred.
I searched what I could see of the room and panicked. What was I going to do? Holy cow, what had I done? With only one I had ruined everything there was between us. What had I done? What had I done? It became a mantra in my mind, clipping each syllable with the beat of my heart.
Dylan stretched his legs and pulled me closer to him. Our naked skin brushed up against each other and I went frigid. Of course I did. How weird for me. There was a noticeable ache in my calf, but that wasn’t why I wasn’t comfortable.
He lifted his head, his eyes kind of scrunchy from sleep. He smiled slow and sweet and leaned down, kissing my foreh
ead with a lingering touch. “Good morning. Forgive me that I don’t kiss you right on the lips, I’m sure I have horrendous morning breath.”
And dang it if Dylan didn’t have me right back in my comfortable spot. I laughed, careful to direct my breath elsewhere. “I was just wondering how I was going to sneak out of here to make myself all pretty.”
“You can’t get any prettier than you are.” He laid back down on the pillow, drawing me close but in a way that he wasn’t breathing in my face.
Things were so natural with him. Was that what I’d been missing for so long? I didn’t want to go into the adventure the night before. He’d been beyond gentle and careful of my leg and I’d felt cherished. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been anyone’s one-thousand percent focus. Dylan hadn’t let me rethink anything the night before and if he had his way, I wouldn’t have a chance to rethink anything. He caressed my bare shoulder.
He didn’t make me feel naïve or inexperienced.
He made me feel loved.
WE REACHED THE ZIP line adventure shortly after lunch. I don’t remember a part where we weren’t holding hands or Dylan didn’t have his arm over my shoulder. The constant public displays of affection would have been annoying coming from anyone else, but with Dylan they were natural. I welcomed them, which said a lot for me. I think he knew it.
Our guide mentioned the demigod Maui and something about skimming above a valley with where the fire bird lived. I couldn’t keep my gaze from finding Dylan.
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