The Man Cave Collection: Manservant, Man Flu, Man Handler, and Man Buns

by Ryan, Shari J.

  “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.

  10

  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 removing 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 ex
actly thinking clearly. “I wasn’t leaving my car there all night.”

  “Mmhmm,” Lea replies.

  “Are you home or at Noa’s?”

  “I stopped home to get stuff for work. I figured you might need your things too.”

  “You thought of me?” I gasp.

  “Yes, Kai. I thought of you.”

  “When are you heading over here?” I ask.

  “In five. What room are you in?”

  “I don’t know. Hold on.” I jog over to the door and stick my head out to find the room number. “Twelve twenty.”

  “The Kai I know would never not know the number of her hotel room. How drunk were you last night?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Mm-k. I’ll see you in a few.”

  The guests are waiting at the gates for the pool to open, with hopes of snagging the perfect lounge chair to throw their towel and sunscreen on, staking their claim for the day. Some of the guests are like human compasses, predicting what location the sun will be hitting for most hours of the day. The funny part is, it’s usually in the spots that are in the shade this early.

  “I hope you put sunblock on,” I hear.

  The voice is familiar to me now, and I turn, ready to give him a look or maybe a snide remark, but thankfully I look before speaking because he’s talking to his daughter. How would she be putting her own sunblock on?

  “Dad?” She laments, cocking her head to the side. “You know I can’t put my own sunblock on, silly.”

  “What? Since when?” Denver replies to her, dumbfounded.

  “Since forever. Geez. You just put it on me yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

  “No, I don’t remember at all, actually,” Denver continues.

  “You’re embarrassing me,” his daughter says, placing her hand up to him. I accidentally let a snicker out while watching their banter.

  “Aya, if there is one thing I’m good at in life, it’s embarrassing pretty girls.”

  “Lame,” she says, strutting over to the lounge chair by my left side. She tosses a towel down onto the chair and pulls her bathing suit cover-up off, then tosses her little pink sandals to the side. “Ready?”

  “I haven’t even said good morning to Miss Kai yet, Aya. Relax,” Denver says.

  I love how he’s talking about me as if she should be familiar with me by now. It’s only been a day, even though it feels like a week has passed since yesterday morning.

  “Who is Kai?” Aya asks while sitting down at the edge of the pool and dangling her feet into the motionless pool of glowing blue chlorine.

  “This beautiful woman behind you,” Denver says. I’m glad I have my sunglasses on because he just admitted that he has a knack for embarrassing women, and yet here he is, doing it again. I don’t want him to think he’s having an effect on me, though, so I’ll act complacent.

  Aya turns around, squinting against the sun peeping through the thick palms. “You are pretty,” she says. “You kind of look like a hula dancer. Do you hula dance?”

  “Aya!” Denver snaps. “That’s rude.”

  “Why is it rude?” I ask him.

  “To insinuate that because you’re beautiful, you must be a dancer of some sort.”

  Oh my God. He’s good. Asshole.

  “Aya, I do dance the hula here once a week during our traditional Luau. It’s tomorrow night, as a matter of fact,” I tell her.

  Aya stands up from the edge of the pool and runs up to my guard chair, wrapping her hands around my ankle. “Will you teach me?” she asks. Whoa. I wasn’t expecting that. Without making assumptions, I would be hard-pressed to assume her mother isn’t a native. She has darker skin than Denver, but a combination of dark and light hair with crystal blue eyes. She’s gorgeous, definitely a mixture of two good-looking people.

  “Oh, I’m sure your mom wants to teach you that,” I tell her. I am definitely not stepping on anyone’s toes.

  “Uhhh,” Denver interrupts. I look over at him, and he’s slicing his hand across his throat and shaking his head.

  No. No. No. Her mother is dead. No. Crap.

  “Um, you know what, Aya. I would love to teach you. Will you still be here at lunchtime?”

  Aya turns around, facing Denver. “Dad, can we stay for lunch, then go to the house?”

  Denver crosses his arms over his broad chest and grins a half smile. “Sure, baby.”

  Aya squeals and claps her hands together. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ve always wanted to learn how to do the hula dance!”

  “I actually teach a class here at lunchtime, so there will be other kids too. Is that okay with you?” I should have said that first. I hope she’s okay with that.

  “Of course!” she says without blinking. “I could use some new friends now that we’re living somewhere new anyway.”

  I think my heart just broke. She’s so strong for moving somewhere new and just looking to start a new life here without a crack in her smile. Unfortunately, most of the kids at the hotel are guests and don’t live anywhere near the island. “Friends are a great thing,” I tell her with a smile.

  “Yup! I don’t have any right now, so it will be good.” Aya runs back to the edge of the pool and sits back down, repositioning her legs so they dangle in the water. That’s so sad.

  I’m nervous to look over at Denver this time. I know he heard the conversation, and I wonder what he’s thinking. If her words hurt me, they must not feel good to him.

  He’s concentrating on the back of Aya’s head with an uncertain look on his face. “She’ll be okay when school starts in the fall,” he says, still staring at her.

  “Oh, of course she will,” I tell him.

  Denver doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he makes his way over to the chair Aya dropped her things on and takes his shirt off, dropping it over her pile, then slips his flip-flops off and walks past me without another glance. He sits down next to Aya, lowers his feet into the pool, and leans in to give her a kiss on her head.

  My hand instinctively moves up to my chest, and I feel the thudding beats of my heart in response. If I had to make up a story for them, I don’t think it would be a good one. I don’t know what happened to her mom, but I’m wondering what kind of pain it left them in. I know that pain. I know it too well. I hope I’m wrong … and possibly the worst story creator in the world.

  11

  Denver

  For a minute while Kai was talking to Aya about hula lessons, I almost burst into laughter because I thought for sure she was joking, but now I see she wasn’t.

  Kai left us just a few minutes ago and told me she needed to clean up before the lesson starts. We’re waiting under the palm trees on the white powder beach where she told us to meet.

  It’s funny, considering how long I’ve lived in Hawaii, how little time I’ve actually spent being a tourist. I’ve spent most of my time working or doing non-touristy things. It’s almost ironic that I don’t ever remember exploring the islands or just sitting down, staring out into the ocean, and taking in the beauty of it all. Aya doesn’t know any different, in fact. We were always at a beach swimming, snorkeling or skin-boarding during the weekends in Oahu, but Maui is a little different. It’s not so crowded. It’s more peaceful, I guess. I didn’t think there would be a drastic difference between the two islands, but it feels a lot different.

  “Do you dare me to get that coconut down?” Aya asks, standing on a boulder behind me.

  “No, I don’t dare you to climb ten feet up a palm to get a coconut down,” I tell her, keeping a serious tone so she doesn’t try it. I’m almost positive there’s no way she’d make it even a foot up the tree, but I’ve learned the hard way; it’s better not to test her.

  “Come on, don’t be a wuss,” she tells me.

  “Excuse me?” I turn around with my hands on my hips, engaging her in the parental stare-down.

  “I’m just kidding,” she grumbles. I swear she’s gone from seven to a tween overnight, but at least sh
e still looks like a little girl. I’m not ready to take on what comes next.

  “I wonder why no one else is here to take the class,” I say out loud, not really to Aya, but just thinking out loud. Maybe Kai doesn’t really teach classes, but I don’t think she would fool Aya into thinking she does.

  “Are you ready?” I hear from behind.

  Kai’s sweet voice isn’t for my attention. Her questions were directed at Aya, who jumps off the rock in her sandals, and my heart catches in my throat. I do my best not to overreact to everything she does, but she’s going give me a heart attack one of these days. “Aya,” I scold quietly.

  “He’s being a butt. Don’t mind him,” Aya says, righting herself after falling to her knees in the sand.

  I give up fighting with her. If she’s on a mission to push me today, I’ll need to be a little pickier with my battles. After my nerves unhinge from Aya’s stunts, I notice Kai has changed from her guard bathing suit into a tied, yellow sarong—at least that’s what I think it’s called—and a matching bikini top. I think it’s a bikini top. I could probably call it a bra too and still mean the same thing.

  Whatever the case is, she’s gorgeous and has the body of an athlete. She’s wearing the purple flower in her hair, the one I sent to her, and instead of her waves being tied up in a twisted knot, her hair is loose and dangling long behind her back, nearly reaching her waist. She can’t be real. Every time I see her, I notice another beautiful feature. Her flawless appearance has me enamored, that’s for sure.

  “Am I the only one in the class?” Aya asks as Kai places her bag down by the rock she was standing on. She takes her phone out of the front pocket of her bag before standing back up and checks the display.

  “Hmm. We’ll give it another couple of minutes. It’s the middle of the week, so sometimes there aren’t a lot of people to take the class, but summer vacation just started, right?” Kai asks Aya.