by Regina Wade
I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand. Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand. — Zac Brown Band, ‘Toes’
Neither a dip in the ocean nor a cool shower is enough to reset my brain after the sizzling way nash kisses me.
Welcome to paradise, he said.
I have no idea if he meant his house on the beach or the endless blue oceans of his eyes. Both are spectacular, and I never thought I’d see either up this close in my life.
After melting me from the inside out, Nash calmly told me to make use of his whole house and private beach. He said he had some stuff to take care of, and that he’d see me for dinner tonight. Far be it from me to deny him a damn thing.
Ocean swimming was a much better experience once I wasn’t wearing jeans and sneakers anymore. And dolphin spotting from the comfort of Nash’s expansive lanai nearly filled my entire camera roll and Insta page in one go. But even now, standing under the intensive spray of all five of his shower sprays, my mind refuses to stray from the moment Nash kissed me on his living room couch.
It’s something I’ve spent so much time thinking about. Daydreaming about. Obsessing over, really. I’ve always convinced myself that if I just got one chance to kiss Nash, it would be enough. That all I’d need is one kiss to purge him from my system; to prove to myself that he isn’t anything to get worked up over.
The truth is, now that he’s put his mouth on mine, I’m only more crazy about him. I’ll never be over him. Kissing Nash is nothing like what I’ve been calling my first kiss up until now. It was a disastrous game of seven minutes in heaven that ended up being more like two and a half minutes of utter disappointment.
Kissing Nash was a revelation. Just having his mouth on mine felt like waking up after twenty-three years of icy sleep. I know he’s older, I know he’s my brother’s best friend. All of this is insane.
It doesn’t change the fact that he’s the only man I’ve ever wanted. The only man to ever make me really feel anything.
Damn it. This was supposed to be my vacation. Instead, it’s a stress-cation.
As usual, the two men in my life who can get under my skin have done what they do best: drive me crazy.
Snapping off the water, I stalk out of the shower. It’s hard to stay mad while wrapped up in a massive fluffy towel, but I’m doing my best. Maybe if I can keep myself frustrated at both Alex and Nash, I can avoid throwing my virginity at my brother’s best friend.
The second I move from the spacious bathroom and into the huge suite that Nash gave me for the week, all pretenses of anger fall away. They’re replaced by confusion, excitement, and panic all crashing into each other in rapid succession.
“What the—” I stop myself as I move cautiously towards the display.
Laid out on the sumptuous California King bed that’s mine for the duration of my stay are a pile of elaborately wrapped boxes. Stacks on stacks of packages in various sizes. Dresses, skirts, purses. There’s a shorter version of the surfboard he was gliding on this morning leaning against the headboard. There’s more, too. Gift bags, shoe boxes. A box of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts nearly as long as my body pillow. So many things I’ve never seen before, so many brands I recognize and so many more that must be local handmade specialties.
“Just some welcome to Hawaii gifts.” Nash’s voice comes from the open doorway of my room.
I whirl around, clutching the towel closer to my body.
He’s leaning against the frame, his big body looking tan and more casual and beautiful than it has any right to in a pair of dry board shorts and a faded polo. The tips of his blonde hair are bleached nearly white from sun and saltwater.
“Here.” He’s holding one more gift bag in his hand. “I brought you something to wear to dinner tonight.”
“Nash,” I laugh with a nod of my head towards the insane pile of clothes and gifts. “What is all this?”
“I told you,” He shrugs lazily. “Just a few things to get you set up in Hawaii.”
I give him another incredulous look.
“Even if I could get through all of this in a week, it’s way too much.” I bite my lip, hesitant to take the gift in his outstretched fingers.
Nash’s crystal eyes take their time dragging up and down my form. From anyone else it might be creepy, but something about the way his look lingers on my face makes my heart clench in my chest. For the first time I notice the faint crisscross of lines at the very corners of his eyes. There’s something ridiculously sexy about it; a physical reminder of the gap in our ages.
“We can talk about it over dinner.” The corner of Nash’s lip turns up in a sexy smirk.
I take the small gift bag out of his hand, finally pulling the colorful bits of tissue out and peering inside.
“You’re kidding, right?” I look from the twin triangles of fabric at the bottom of the bag back up to Nash’s beautiful, grinning face.
“What?” His tone and the guileless look on his face assure me he is not, in fact, kidding. “I promise you, Nic, it’s the dress code where we’re going.”
“You’re taking me to Hawaiian Hooters for dinner?” My own voice is dry and sarcastic, despite the ball of dread rising in my gut.
The brightly patterned bikini in the bag is gorgeous. I’m sure it cost a small fortune; it’s probably a one of a kind, made by an up and coming local designer and crafted out of all natural fabric.
But there’s no way in hell I am about to be caught dead in a swimsuit in public. Especially not a two piece. The damned thing doesn’t even look like it has underwire, and let’s keep it real: I left A-cups behind some time at the beginning of junior high. I’ve come a long way since then, too.
“No,” Nash just laughs, the big beautiful bastard. “But you should get changed. We have reservations at six. Trust me, Nicole. I wouldn’t buy anything you wouldn’t look great in. Then again,” He pauses just before pulling the door closed behind him. “You’d look great in anything.”
Chapter 5
Nash
On a riverbank with all my friends. Big ol’ rope tied to a limb. And you’re a big ol’ wuss if you don’t jump in the water. — Brad Paisley ‘Water’
The restaurant is the most beautiful on the island.
It’s also the most exclusive. There are at most five other couples scattered around the beach watching the sun sink over the expansive of the Pacific, all of them enjoying drinks and appetizers.
All open air dining, the tables at Rum Fire aren’t beachside— they’re literally on the sand. With the exception of a few scattered torches for light, there are minimal decorations. Even the sleek wooden tables that sit in the soft warm sand are free of centerpieces or ornate silverware. It’s not hard to see why, either. The star of the show here is Hawaii herself; the sunset putting on a show unequaled in beauty and elegance.
Unless you count the brunette sitting across from me.
I was right about the dress code. At the other tables dotted along the sand, women sit in what passes for normal date night attire around here: a bathing suit or bikini top with either jeans or a skirt.
Nicole outshines even the scenery in the bold pattern of her Kaikini swim top. The rich blues and yellows play up the gold tones in her eyes, make it look like she’s reflecting the fire from the tiki torches in her simmering gaze.
“This is incredible, Nash.” Nicole grins. It’s the wide, genuine smile that I love best. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunset that spectacular.”
I take a slow sip of water. She’s right of course— the view is one of the best on Earth, the food here second to none. But none of it would matter if it weren’t for the woman sitting across the table from me.
“It’s just as gorgeous every night,” I admit to her with a smile of my own. “It’s one of the things I love best about living here. Never the same sunset twice, but it’s always that beautiful.”
“I’d give my right arm to live someplace like this someday.” There’s a wistfulness in Nico
le’s voice.
I lean across the table, taking her hand in mine.
Before I can say a word, the waiter arrives. I try not to let my annoyance at his timing slip through, even as the kid makes immediate eye contact with the front of Nic’s generous chest. A woman in a bikini isn’t a rare sight in Hawaii.
“Good evening. I’m Frank. I’ll be serving you this evening. If there’s anything at all I can help you with, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“We’ll start with two Casa Dragones, on ice, please.” I order a couple of drinks for Nic and I. “Give us a bit to decide on appetizers, would you?”
Frank doesn’t seem nearly as eager to serve me as he does Nic.
I turn over the feeling inside myself as he huffs off in search of our sipping tequila. I’ve been very goal-oriented my entire life. But this possessiveness I feel over Nicole is different. It’s a single-mindedness; a need to keep her safe, a desire to hold her skin against mine.
Have I always felt this way about her? When did Nic stop being Alex’s little sister and start being the woman I know I need for the rest of my life; the mother of my kids? The answer to both of the questions is immediate and blindingly clear. I’ve always known.
“Your drinks.” Frank is back, placing our glasses on the table with a flourish.
“Oh, thank you so much.” Nicole raises her glass to those petal-soft lips, taking a hesitant sip before closing her eyes and murmuring a hushed moan of pleasure.
“That is the good stuff,” Frank nods lasciviously as she tastes her drink. “Oh, I almost forgot.”
I make an effort to tamp down the frustration building at the waiter’s over the top behavior, especially when there are important things I want to discuss with Nicole.
He pulls out a wreath of faux flowers strung together.
“Everyone should get lei’d in Hawaii.” Frank begins to lean in, clearly intent on placing the lei around Nic’s neck.
I’m up and out of my chair before he can finish.
“We’d like a new waiter.” Even with my shoes kicked under the table, it’s easy to look down at the brat. “One that knows how to treat a lady without being a disrespectful little shit.”
A musclehead with bulging veins in his neck, the kid is probably used to bullying people, getting in their faces and using his overbearing personality to get what he wants. Well I’ve spent my entire life using my body weight for exercise and the ocean for resistance training. Meatbag assholes like this who have no respect for women do nothing but piss me off.
As suspected, Frank turns tail and heads back to the kitchen the minute I’m in his face.
“Nash,” Nicole’s voice is breathy and unsteady behind me. “Sit down. Have some tequila with me. You’re missing the sunset. It’s beautiful.”
I turn around, catching the way the sunlight bounces off her hair, giving her a halo and warming her cheeks.
“It really is, babygirl.”
Chapter 6
Nicole
Don’t need a reason or a happy hour. Aint hanging around for a fireworks show. Get a head start; a little sip of something. — Little Big Town, ‘Day Drinking’
“Ok,” I dab at my teary eyes with the edge of my napkin. I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed this much or had this much fun. “Would you rather fight one human-sized cat or ten cat-sized humans?”
“Jeez, you’re killing me Nic.” Nash laughs.
He swipes at my spoon with his, avoiding the question as we spar for the last couple bites of molten lava cake. Ever the gentleman, he lets me have it in the end. I moan indelicately around my dessert spoon. Every course has been better than the last, from the incredible fresh sushi platter to the indulgent chocolate trio.
Even the skeevy waiter wasn’t enough to put a damper on my date with Nash. Normally, I’m no good in situations that put me on the spot like that. Plus I’ve always hated big showy acts of machismo and bravado. This was different though. Nash stepped up and got between me and the waiter— just like he pulled me out of that wave when it knocked me over earlier. Something about him makes me feel safe, protected.
“Ten cat-sized humans.” Nash points his spoon at me in punctuation. “One human-sized cat is a lion. And let me tell you, a lion can fuck you up. No thank you.”
I have to laugh at the serious look on his face.
“Your reasoning is sound,” I nod.
I have no idea how long we’ve been sitting here. Long enough for the sun to sink slowly before the horizon. Most of the other couples have left, leaving us the beachfront restaurant to ourselves. The past five years have seemingly melted away as we talked. I feel closer than ever to Nash.
We’ve always been close. It’s impossible not to have been, when he was always around. Nash and Alex might as well be brothers. Close as any two people can be, I don’t ever remember a time when Nash wasn’t over. Swimming in our pool or fixing cars or just lounging around the backyard all weekend. Even after mom and dad died, Nash was always around.
There was a time when it struck me. The differences between Nash and Alex. How could two people be so different and so close? Alex is serious and intense. Nash is laid back and takes the world one wave at a time.
I know the truth now. Nash is just as intense, just as serious about what matters to him. He just approaches life differently. Maybe that’s why they get along so well.
It’s definitely what draws me to him— what’s always drawn me to him.
We’ve been sitting here for hours now, and instead of dissipating my schoolgirl crush, I’ve come to the crushing realization that I’ll never be over what I feel for Nash.
Fueled by fantastic tequila and five star seafood, I’m able to talk to him. Really talk to Nash, in a way I’ve never been able to with anyone else. I tell him about my hopes and fears, the things I want to do. The things I don’t want for myself. He listens. Really listens. It’s so much more than any silly attempts at a date I’ve had with boys my age. He opens up to me in ways he never has before, too.
Inside jokes and secrets of our pasts. Stories of traveling the world with nothing but a surfboard under one arm. He tells me about how much it meant to him to know he had real friends when people started blowing smoke up his ass for being able to ride a wave better than anyone else. I confide in him that I don’t actually know if I love being in school. That I don’t even know if I like studying business, but I don’t know how to break my brother’s heart and tell him.
It feels like I’m living the life Alex wants me to live. I don’t even know if I want to drop out altogether. Maybe take a break for a year or two? I just want to figure out what I really want to do. But I can’t tell him that. I love him so much, I don’t want to let him down, you know? He just wants me to go work at his company so badly…
Just talking to Nash feels good; cleansing. It’s like going to confession. His big blue eyes are their own kind of sacrament.
I can tell him things I never thought I could even say out loud before. And somehow I know it’s ok, that he understands.
The longer we sit and talk, the more it starts to sting, knowing that I have to leave it all behind in six days.
“Come on,” Nash stands up and I suddenly realize we’re alone on the beach. “Take a walk with me.”
There’s nothing I’d rather do.
Chapter 7
Nash
A full moon shining bright. Edge of the water we were feeling alright. Back down a country road. — Jake Owen, ‘Barefoot Blue Jean Night’
The moon is just beginning to rise over the pacific as we walk along the beach.
“Look at that.” I jerk my chin towards the silvery water. Nicole gasps at the sight, stopping in her tracks. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. She feels so good in my arms. Like she was made to fit in that space. Made for me.
Because she was. She’s mine.
“It’s just so beautiful.” Nicole whispers for the hundredth time. The
rapt awe on her face makes me smile. I lean in, nuzzling against her ear.
“Not as beautiful as you are.” I whisper.
She shivers against me, and I know it has nothing to do with the cold. This girl has got it just as bad as I do. Just another way we’re perfect for each other.
“Have you ever gone skinny dipping, Nic?” I ask teasingly, already knowing the answer.
She turns around, eyes as big as the moon as she looks up at me.
“No. Always seemed lame and immature. Boys doing it at parties in a vain effort to show off or get the girls to flash their tits.” She bites her lip as she looks up at me, and it’s so sexy I almost bust in my pants right there.
“Things are always different when you’re doing them the right way. The adult way. With a real man.” I slide one thumb under the strap of her bikini, feeling the tension in the garment as it struggles to hold up her generous chest.
I pull at the tie, and let gravity do the work for me. All the while, I never look away from her eyes, never glance down. It’s a show of self-control. I need to teach Nicole what a real man is like. How I can wait for what I want, build up the tension for hours at a time if I feel like it.
This tension has been building for five years, and it’s about to climax.
“Not going to look?” Nicole asks, arching an eyebrow playfully. She adjusts herself, folding her arms under her breasts, practically offering them up to me on a silver moonlight platter. I growl, but I don’t break eye contact.
“I’ll look. Later. I’ll memorize every curve, every single inch of your skin. I’ll learn it so well I could carve you from marble, but a stone could never truly capture your beauty.” I slide my hand down her chest, cupping one of her heavy tits. “These are mine, Nicole. You’re mine.”