Sienna
Feeling how hard Luke is through his shorts—I can hardly stand it. My skin is covered in goose bumps, a fluttery sensation swirls around in my chest, and there’s an unrelenting feeling of need tugging between my legs.
“Kiss me,” I tell him in a soft whisper; I can already taste his sweet breath, and I ache to taste the rest of him.
Without hesitation his lips cover mine, both of his hands moving from my wrists to the sides of my face, where he holds on so tight that I wouldn’t be able to move my head if I tried. His tongue is powerful and warm and sweet as he steals my breath away; my eyes flutter blissfully behind the lids. And even though I taste a little mud in our mouths and feel the dirty, watery sensation on my cheeks beneath his firm hands, I don’t care and I never want this kiss to end.
Luke breaks the kiss slowly, letting his delicious lips linger on mine before finally pulling away.
I swallow nervously, looking up at him.
The creaking sound of the hinges on the back screen door shake us both from our passionate stupor.
“Ah shit—bad timing.” Seth stands at the back door with no hair on his head and an apologetic look on his face.
Luke’s chest rises and falls a little deeper than normal, and then he gets to his feet, taking my hand and bringing me up with him. Water drips from us both, down the backs of our bare legs, and for me, in places that make me cringe inwardly, thinking about needing a shower. Stat.
Seth rubs the palm of his hand across the back of his shaved head. “Sorry to barge in on yah like this,” he says. A dark gray T-shirt hugs his muscular form, partially tucked behind a belt holding up a pair of black cargo shorts.
“It’s all right,” Luke says as we’re ascending the back steps. “What’s goin’ on?”
I get the feeling right away that Luke might have something more harsh to say to Seth if I weren’t standing among them. “I thought you were going to hang back for a while?”
“Yeah I know; sorry, man. I had to come over and get some of my gear.” Seth looks us over with curious dark brown eyes, finally taking stock of our drenched and mud-stained clothes. “I’m not even gonna say it.” He shakes his head, laughing under his breath.
“Yeah, please don’t,” Luke warns.
Wringing the water from my shirt and as much as I can manage from my shorts, I do my best not to seem as though I’m interested in their conversation. I’m not, really, but I feel kind of trapped, not wanting to go inside Luke’s house and leave a trail of water and mud across his clean floors in my wake.
“Come on in,” Luke tells me, holding open the screen door. “Don’t worry about all that. I’ll clean it up.”
Our eyes meet in passing, reflecting the moment we just had, and then I go ahead and walk past him into the house. Luke peels off his T-shirt before he comes in and tosses it over the lanai railing. I try not to look at his tanned, muscled upper body as he walks through the kitchen toward me, but that’s not such an easy thing to avoid, I realize quickly. His shorts, weighted down by all the water, reveal a sculpted V-shape between his rigid hips. Oh my God …
Finally I avert my eyes.
Seth stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his big arms crossed. It’s apparent to me that he probably came here for more than his gear, and the fact that he’s not saying much tells me they might need some time alone.
“Mind if I get a shower?” I ask Luke.
As if he feels bad for not offering it to me right away, Luke completely ignores Seth and says, “Yeah, babe. Let me show you where the towels are.”
Babe? I’m not going to have a working heart left by the time I leave this island.
I notice from the corner of my eye that Seth seems as surprised to hear something like that coming from Luke as I am.
I grab some clean clothes from my suitcase in his room, and then Luke leads me down the hall to the bathroom after getting a clean towel and washcloth from a hall closet.
“Thanks.”
He smiles, and for a brief moment it seems like he might want to kiss me again, but he doesn’t, and I shut the door and start stripping off my wet clothes. A moment later, I can faintly hear their voices through the thin walls and it seems like they’ve moved into the living room.
“This seems serious, bro,” I hear Seth say, but at first I don’t think he’s talking about me. “You sure about her?”
Is he talking about me?
I listen closer, not making any movement and trying not to breathe so I don’t miss anything. But then suddenly I’m paralyzed by fear and I change my mind, letting out my breath noisily and fumbling my clean clothes on the counter to avoid hearing anything else. What if Luke tells Seth he isn’t sure about me? What does sure even mean exactly? What if Luke says something, anything that I don’t want to hear and that might change everything I’ve come to love and enjoy about Luke and my time here? I turn on the shower quickly and close myself off behind the glass door. And all I can think about is Luke. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I’m not even sure how it is that I feel. All I know is that I don’t want to leave. I know it’s crazy, but I feel like I want to stay here with him forever. But I can’t. We live worlds apart and long-distance relationships rarely ever work. And I can’t leave my job, or my family. Or Paige.
I’ve been living in a dream world since I’ve been here—reality, my real life, will be here again soon enough, and I should be preparing myself for it.
I don’t know what I’m going to do from here on out. I think maybe I should’ve left days ago, before Luke and I got any closer. Before that first kiss out on the lanai. I know I should’ve done a lot of things differently. But I didn’t. And turning back now seems almost … impossible for me.
What have I done?
TWENTY-ONE
Luke
I’m sure that I like her,” I answer Seth. “A lot more than I wanted to.” I strip out of my shorts and toss them on the floor of the laundry room as I pass by, heading into my room in soaked boxers.
Seth follows.
“Well, I’m happy for yah,” he says. “I just hope this one doesn’t screw you over, man.”
I look back at him. “Seth, my exes didn’t screw me over, either,” I correct him and turn to my chest of drawers, shuffling open the second drawer.
“Yeah, I know,” Seth agrees reluctantly, “but this one doesn’t even live here.”
Shutting the drawer, I keep my back to Seth because I don’t really want him to see the tormented look on my face. Seth may be right about getting too close to Sienna—she’s afraid of heights (considering my extreme sports lifestyle, a fear of heights is almost a certain relationship killer) and she’s a tourist (she has to leave Hawaii eventually, and long-distance relationships require more work than most people are willing to put in); our chances couldn’t be more doomed—but nothing can change my feelings for her.
I walk over to my closet and yank down a clean T-shirt from a hanger, tossing it over my shoulder. I intend to hop in the shower after Sienna, though maybe if Seth hadn’t shown up I would be in there with her right now.
Maybe it was for the best that he did.
“Well, in any case,” Seth changes the subject, detecting the reluctance in me, “we were just wondering if you were still on for next week. I mean if you’re not up to it with Sienna being here, that’s totally understandable—might piss Kendra off, but who gives a shit, right?” He laughs, but it fizzles quickly when I don’t join in.
“Well, I don’t give a shit,” I say as I walk past him and back toward the living room. “In fact, do me a favor and …” I pause, thinking about what Sienna begged me not to do. “Well, just try to keep her on her side of the fence for a while. Don’t tell her I said that, just—”
“I got you,” Seth cuts in. “Don’t worry about it. But you know she’s going to throw a bitch-fit if you back out again.”
I slam the palm of my hand against the wall at the end of the hall and
whirl around at Seth, my breathing deep and uneven, my jaw rigid. “I’m not going to back out!” I roar, the memory of my fatal decision to back out of China filling my head, but I calm myself fast when I realize what I’m doing.
A long, deep breath settles in my chest and I hold my eyes closed for a tense moment until I let the breath out and the anger along with it.
“I’m sorry, man,” I tell him, my voice coming out calmer.
“Nah, don’t be,” he says in a nonchalant voice. “I understand. You know that. And I wasn’t talking about Norway. I just meant—”
“I know, Seth. I know what you meant. I just … reacted.”
He pauses, letting me gather myself the rest of the way.
“So it’s a no-go next week then?” he asks.
I shake my head and plop down on a kitchen chair, sprawling my mud-crusted legs out before me. “No, I’m not going to do anything without Sienna. I want to spend all of my time with her while she’s here. After that, things will be back to normal.”
Seth remains silent, though I’m pretty sure of what he’s thinking because it’s all over his face. He knows I’m not looking forward to when Sienna leaves and things get back to normal. But it is what it is.
“Luke, man,” Seth says, looking at me with a concerned face, which is rare for Seth. “Look, you know that getting into your shit isn’t usually my thing, but you’re my best friend and I’d be lyin’ if I said I haven’t been worried about you since Landon died.”
“I know you have and I appreciate it, Seth, but I’m fine.”
“I’m not so sure you are, bro.” He cocks his head to one side. “It’s not just about you hangin’ back a lot when the rest of us go out doin’ stuff, but even when it comes to jumping, when you do go with us, it kinda seems like you’re—”
He stops and looks behind me instead of at me anymore.
“Like I’m what?” I ask, wary.
His big shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath of preparedness.
He reaches up and scratches the back of his shaved head and says after a long hesitation, “I dunno. It just seems like you don’t enjoy it anymore, like maybe you’re doing it out of obligation—sorry man, I’m not tryin’ to—”
I put up my hand.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say with forgiveness. “Like I said, I appreciate your concern, but I really am fine. And yeah, I can see why you’d think I don’t enjoy jumping as much, but I’ve just had a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
Seth nods, leaving it alone.
“Maybe you can talk Sienna into staying.” He changes the subject with a small, suggestive smile.
“Maybe so,” I say, wincing as I pick small clumps of dried mud from my leg hairs, “but somehow I don’t think she can.”
“She may surprise you,” Seth says. “You’ll never know unless you say something. Shit, man, try it out—imagine how liberating it’ll feel!”
I don’t share his positive outlook, or his enthusiasm, and I find it odd that he’s actually advocating a relationship outside of sex with Sienna, seeing as how he’s so anti-relationship himself and just moments ago he was telling me to be careful.
“All right.” Seth gives up. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“Thanks.”
A moment later I ask, “So what’s goin’ on with you and Kendra?”
His dark eyebrows harden. “Nothin’. Why do you ask?”
I shake my head with disbelief and look away, not putting too much effort in hiding my knowing smile. Seth should be used to it by now—I’ve been on him for a couple weeks about his secret feelings for Kendra, and he’s been denying them ever since.
“Gotta get off my back about her,” he says, but he can’t look me in the eyes. “She’s too wild. I like my women sweet and tame.”
I scoff. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”
“Whatever, man,” he says, and then glances down the hallway as if to make sure Sienna isn’t in earshot. He turns back to me with a suggestive grin. “So have you banged her yet?”
“Get the fuck outta here, Seth.” I can’t help but laugh a little—he can always get one out of me if he tries hard enough.
Seth crumples his nose up tightly, his top row of white teeth pressing over the top of his bottom lip, and he pumps his fist in front of him. “Fuckin’ score!” He laughs himself all the way out the front door.
It wouldn’t have mattered if I told him nothing had happened between me and Sienna beyond kissing, as he wouldn’t have believed it anyway.
Sienna
An angry rumble of thunder and the heavy pounding of rain battering the roof wakes me early the following morning. Shuffling the sheet from my head, I open my eyes slowly to the dim gray light of dawn blanketed by clouds. More thunder rolls amid the sky; I can hear the distinctive sound of waves crashing against the shore through the open screened window above the bed.
I get out of bed and slip my bra on underneath my T-shirt before leaving Luke’s room.
But Luke is nowhere to be found. The television is off; the kitchen doesn’t look or smell as though anything has been cooked in it yet; the running shoes, as well as the flip-flops Luke normally wears, are still sitting sloppily on the floor beside the television; his wallet and car keys are still on the kitchen counter, so I know he can’t be far.
I push open the squeaky screen door, making my way out onto the lanai, but he’s not sitting out here, either, which was where I expected him to be.
“Luke?” I call out softly from the lanai, my voice smothered by the thunder and heavy rain; a streak of lightning darts across the sky in my peripheral vision, followed by a vociferous crack and roar of thunder—I jump at the unexpected sharp sound; I can feel it move through my feet as the lanai seems to shake. Rain splatters on me in tiny spray-like drops as the brisk wind pushes it sideways amid the storm.
I don’t know how it hit me so fast, but suddenly I react on the urge to look inside the house from the screen door, my eyes passing over the wall in the kitchen where two surfboards—Luke’s and Seth’s—are usually propped, and when I notice Luke’s is missing, my heart sinks into my feet.
Before my mind even realizes, my bare feet are carrying me down the lanai steps and into the hammering storm.
I run through the rain and wind and thick wet sand all the way out to the beach, where I stop as if a brick wall suddenly shot up in front of me when I see Luke, a speck of dark, out-of-place movement, riding the violent waves on his surfboard.
Gasping, my stomach tightening, I fling my hand over my mouth. Rain rushes over my head and down my face in heavy streams, but nothing can force my eyes closed, as I’m fixed on the perilous scene, watching Luke surf in the storm.
For a second I’m more mad and disappointed than I am afraid—why is he doing this alone? I ask myself.
But he’s not alone, I realize when I find the courage to tear my eyes away from him. Another dark figure, stark against the gray-and white-capped water, emerges from the top of a wave not too far from Luke.
All I can do is watch in awe and in horror—I’ve never seen Luke surf quite like this, riding big, thrashing waves and very much like a pro, which he told me once he was not. Maybe that’s true, but he sure looks like one to me out there. But every time he gets clipped by a wave and disappears under the water, my hands begin to shake and my heart stops and every muscle in my body locks up. Not until I see his head appear from the top of the churning water do I feel like I can move and breathe again.
A long time passes while I stand on the beach in the downpour, before I decide that I just can’t watch anymore.
I run back to the house and to the safety of the lanai, where I wait for another thirty minutes, drenched in my clothes, before Luke finally comes back safely.
He looks stunned to see me sitting here when he notices me from the bottom step, surfboard tucked under his arm.
He smiles hugely, looking me over.
“What are you—why are you
wet?” he asks with a wrinkled nose, setting his board upright against the side of the house.
I return his smile, but it’s not as bright as his.
“I was watching you surf.” I tell him the truth—I wonder if he can detect the discomfort in my voice.
He crouches down in front of me on his long, muscled legs, tilts his head to one side, and says, “You all right?”
Great—I guess he did see the discomfort, after all.
My legs drop from a crossed position on the chair and I set my feet on the wood in front of him.
“Yeah, I was just a little freaked out seeing you do that.”
He places his hands on my knees; his smile just gets bigger.
“Look, I’m fine,” he points out, gesturing both hands at himself, but when he sees that I probably don’t look too convinced, he pushes back into a stand and reaches for my hand. “Come on, why don’t you get out of those wet clothes, and I’ll make you breakfast.”
I take his hand and follow him into the house. I change clothes and pin up my hair before heading into the kitchen to the delicious smell of bacon cooking on the stove.
“I’m sorry, Sienna,” Luke says as I sit down at the bar. “Last thing I wanna do is freak you out. I shouldn’t have gone out there with you here at the house. But I’m fine, see!” He turns from the stove, smiling brightly, and places an empty glass in front of me. “I may do some extreme stuff, but I’m really safe about it all. I never surf like that alone.” He reaches over the bar and brushes his fingertip over the bridge of my nose—it eases me in an instant, and a smile turns up on my lips. “I had Braedon out there with me,” he adds.
The Moment of Letting Go Page 21