by Claire Adams
I didn't know the whole deal. I didn't know how much pain he was in, but I did know that when we had gone to Keahiakawelo, he had been happy to be there. He had had a good time and wasn't thinking about using. That was all I wanted, just for him to feel like he was free.
I picked the bag with the musubi up and walked into his bedroom. He was face down on the bed in his underwear; he'd taken the jeans off. Clearly, the boundaries were gone between us. I thought about looking away, but wondered when I'd be able to ogle at him this freely again.
His back was wide and muscular, and he had a few tattoos there as well that I hadn't known about. I peered at his ass through his tight boxer briefs as I put the bag and the coffee down on the nightstand. It looked like the rest of him: firm and muscular.
"I left your coffee black because you're a little drowsy today," I said. "Do you like the musubi?" He grunted. I wasn't sure whether that was a yes or no.
"There's this amazing food truck in the city, they make these incredible musubi. It's these two guys, one's from here, and the other's from the mainland. They do a sort of Hawai'ian-American fusion thing. I didn't know which one you'd like, so I just got you their spam and bacon breakfast ones," I said.
He rolled over onto his back and leaned up on his elbows to look at me. Eyes on his face, Abby, I had to remind myself. In his bed, half asleep and grumpy, he was still the hottest guy I'd ever seen.
"Why are you here so early? Are we going fishing or something?"
"Nate, it's much too late for that," I said smiling. "If you want to, we can go tomorrow. You'll have to be up before dawn, though. Here," I said, picking up his coffee and handing it to him. He took it and looked at the liquid in the cup, not drinking it.
"Eat this before it gets cold," I instructed, handing him the bag, too. "Have you had a shower already, or do you take one at night?" I asked, walking towards his closet. I slid it open and looked at the row of dark t-shirts. The shelves turned up jeans and long pants. He did know he was coming to Hawai'i, didn't he? He'd die when it started getting warmer.
"Nate," I said looking back at him, "where are all your clothes?" He was eating the musubi, leaning up against the headboard of the bed, still sleepy and disoriented.
"They're right there," he said with a full mouth. I turned back looking at the clothes.
"That's okay. We can get you something else another day," I said. I pulled a black t-shirt off a hanger.
"Long sleeves," he said, from behind me. I glanced back at him, returning it and picking a long-sleeved one instead. I pulled out the lightest wash of jeans he had, which were still gray.
"Do you need help in the bathroom, or should I wait for you out here?" I asked seriously. If he wanted, I'd hose him down myself. He was leaving his suite, and he was doing it today. He sipped his coffee slowly, looking a little more human.
"Rain check?" he asked.
"Nope. You can't stay in here while the room's being repaired. Come on," I said, walking into the bathroom. I grabbed his towel and walked back out, tossing it to him on the bed. He sighed, looking like he was regretting every decision he'd made in his life. I sat on the couch and watched him slowly make his way to the bathroom, before stopping to look back at me.
"You're waiting?"
"I need to make sure you're actually getting ready," I said. "You're not bailing on me. Not today, Nate."
He sighed, cursing under his breath. He walked into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind him. I heard the shower come on and realized he was naked, just feet away from me. Maybe waiting for him in the living area would be better. Or out on the deck; it was such a beautiful morning.
I had seen most of him already, but being this close to him, knowing he had nothing on, was giving me really inappropriate fantasies. He had left the door open so he probably didn't even care if I saw him naked, right?
No, I thought, urgently. I was supposed to be a professional. I managed to keep the urge to peep down until he came out of the bathroom. A short towel was tied low around his hips. Somehow, it was more erotic than even seeing him in his underwear. He was using another to dry his hair. It looked black when it was wet.
"Your clothes are on your bed," I told him smiling. He walked over to the bed to get changed. I heard something, which I guessed was him dropping his towel on the ground. I blushed furiously. I should have gone out to the deck.
"You forgot underwear," he mumbled. Before I could say anything, he was walking to the closet to get some, completely naked. The connection between my brain and mouth must have shorted, looking at his naked back and ass because I was speechless.
Not only that, I was rooted to the spot. How dare he be so casual walking around naked in front of me? My stomach burned when I realized what I'd see when he turned around.
"Hey, where do you live? You stay here at the hotel?" he asked. My heart race slowed when I realized he wasn't going to flash me. He pulled a pair of boxer briefs on, also black, before turning around. I swallowed hard to try moisten my dry throat.
"Yeah, well, no... Sort of," I said, flustered.
"Where are we going today?" he asked, going back to the bed to continue dressing. I cleared my throat, glad that I wasn't looking at him anymore. Oh, my God.
"I thought I'd give you a tour of the island," I said.
"Shipwreck beach and whatnot?" he asked. He'd read the pamphlets.
"No. Other spots, the ones tourists don't know about," I said, turning to look at him. He was pulling the shirt over his head. I watched him purposefully make sure his arms were covered, seeing the red marks down his left forearm. Oh, that was why.
"I still don't know why we have to leave so early," he complained.
"Abby, thanks so much for being my personal tour guide around the island today even though it totally isn't your job, and I'm an angry morning person. I really appreciate it," I said in an exaggerated deep voice, telling him what he should have been saying to me. It made him laugh.
"I don't fucking sound like that," he said as he put shoes on.
"You've been nothing but grouchy since I got here," I teased.
“Well, you should catch me after twelve next time. I’m great in the afternoon. Where are we going?”
“You might want to grab everything you need now; we aren’t going to be back till the sun goes down,” I warned instead of answering his question.
“Are we going swimming or something? Because I’m eighty-sixing anything I have to take my clothes off to do,” he said.
I shrugged, smiling because I didn’t want to give anything away. We weren’t swimming, but he was going to have to be a little more enthusiastic about having a good time today or else it wouldn’t work.
“Let’s go,” I said grandly, letting him lead the way out the door.
Since I had brought Nate breakfast in bed, we had skipped finding somewhere to eat, and I had taken him to see Sweetheart Rock before we drove into the city. We stopped for coffee before going by Kaunolu Village.
Most people who came to stay on the island tended to stay at one of the resorts. Since they offered so many things for people to do, they ended up leaving the island having barely scratched the surface of what it had to offer.
Archaeological sites dotted the entire island — some centuries old, some just ruins from the 20th Century. Nate had had a good enough time at Keahiakawelo, and there was nothing I was giving him taking him to the golf course, so I picked places a little more off the beaten path. He was a little hard to read, but he hadn’t complained. He hadn’t seemed sick at all, either — both good things.
By mid-afternoon, we had stopped in the city for lunch, the spot Makani’s friend owned. Nate was looking at his plate, frowning.
"What did you say this was?" he asked.
"Loco Moco," I said. He wedged his fork under the fried egg and lifted it, looking underneath.
"I don't think these things are all supposed to be eaten at the same time together," he said.
"Don't kno
ck it till you try it," I said. He looked at me, then back at the plate. I watched him, stifling a laugh as he tried some, gingerly feeding himself a mouthful. “So?” I asked.
“It’s really good,” he admitted. I sat back in my seat, satisfied.
“Better than hotel food?”
“A lot better,” he said, eating. “After a while, it’s just too much, you know? It’s like having cake every day when all you want is ramen noodles and water.”
“Nobody’s making you stay at the hotel. You can leave whenever you want if you want to eat out,” I said.
“Are you going to come with me?” he asked.
“If you want me to,” I shrugged. “If I have to leave work anyway; I might as well get fed in the process,” I said, trying not to give away how excited the thought made me.
I was in a complicated place. Entertaining a celebrity while he had his island holiday was what it was ostensibly, but all these hours alone together, all these tours to secluded spots… This had trouble written all over it.
I had thought previously that there was no way I was getting my wires crossed, but now I knew I was wrong. I was still working, and that meant I had to be professional, but that didn’t mean I stopped feeling the way I did.
This was the man who wrote those songs I loved. Nate. He wasn’t a big star, untouchable and aloof. He was a guy who was talented and funny who I was going to have a really hard time not falling for.
We finished our lunch and left the restaurant.
“Back to the hotel?” he asked.
“Tired already?” I challenged. “We have one more stop." I climbed into the car.
"Another one? This place is so small; how many secret spots do you know?" he asked. I shrugged.
"When I got here, I had a lot more time on my hands," I said vaguely. "I was shy and wanted places I knew nobody would find me if I didn't want to be found."
"Where are we going?"
"The beach," I said.
"That's not secret. I've been there."
"Not that beach. Wait and see," I smiled. There was still time to back out. He didn't know where we were or where we were meant to be going, so I could still double back and start heading somewhere else. It still wasn't too late.
No. I was doing this. I had never even taken Makani there. I was nervous, but I wanted him to know I was serious about helping him. I'd been going to Polihua Beach since I'd gotten to the island. There were no resorts or property built on it. It was a little hard to get to because you had to go by Keahiakawelo, and the road wasn't paved, but it was worth the trip.
I went when I wanted a little time away from it all. Just time to think.
"Hey, I remember this. Are we going back to the Garden of the Gods?" he asked, recognizing the road.
"You don’t like surprises, do you?" I asked.
“This whole day has felt like one long kidnapping. You’re killing me. Just tell me where we’re going.”
“Just be glad I didn’t put a bag over your head and throw you in the trunk. You’re a very difficult person to travel with,” I said with a smile. He laughed a little.
“Every tour guide’s nightmare. You aren’t the only person who thinks so,” he said. “I’m going to keep asking you until you tell me.”
“And I’ll keep telling you to wait and see.”
He went quiet for a minute before he spoke again. “How do you know Keno?” he asked.
“Keno? I didn’t know you two knew each other. I met him my first summer at the hotel. Makani introduced us,” I said, slightly impressed that he seemed to have made a friend.
“Do you know everyone on the island?” he asked.
“Almost. It’s a small place.”
“Yeah. Nothing like Los Angeles. Thank God,” he said looking out the window.
“Have you always lived there?” I asked to get him talking.
“No. I grew up in San Francisco.” By the time we got to the beach, he had told me about the times he had spent visiting Hawai’i with his parents when he was younger, the last time he’d come to visit, and asked me to tell him where we were going one more time.
Chapter Fifteen
Nate
The beach was empty when we got there.
Like, completely deserted. Nobody, anywhere in sight. I understood that Lanai wasn't really built up, but this place was incredible. Why didn't anyone come? Did they not know it was here?
The wind was coming off the water strong. The water was dark blue and choppy, and the waves were crashing loudly on the shore. It was the sort of beach you expected when you came to Hawai’i: soft white sand dotted with rocks here and there, but it was like we had turned up on a deserted island or something.
Since people used beaches at resorts, it was hard to remember that they weren’t actually there for us to use. They just existed.
"How did you find this place?" I asked her, impressed.
"Makani told me about it, but told me it wasn't worth coming because nothing ever happened here. Do you like it?" she asked.
"I can't believe nobody's here."
"The water is too rough to swim or surf. And there are sharks sometimes," she commented casually. "Wanna see something?" she asked.
I said I did. I followed her down to the edge of the water. She walked along its edge before stopping and waving me over. I walked over and stood by her. A large sea turtle covered halfway in water was laying in the sand.
"They come here to lay eggs," she said. "Polihua means 'cove of eggs.' We're not allowed to touch them; they're endangered." She started down the beach along the water's edge. I followed her at a slow walk.
"If it was winter, we'd probably be able to see whales. That over there," she said, pointing across the water into the distance, "is Molokai Island. It's a little bigger than Lanai. More people, too."
"I can see why you'd want to keep this place a secret," I said.
"I hoped you'd like it," she said, smiling up at me. "I know you have a lot on your mind. I thought maybe it would help you figure stuff out the way it helps me."
"Thank you for sharing it with me," I said looking down at her.
I didn't know whether I'd ever met anyone so...sweet. She was like a kid. Ugh. No, bad example. She was just so nice, earnest, and willing to help. I thought about kissing her, but I didn't think that was why she'd brought me here.
We walked along the water in silence. She had taken off her shoes and was holding them in her hand. She pointed out an area near some rocks and suggested we go sit down. I followed her up and helped her spread the large beach towel she took out of her bag. She sat crossed legged on one side of the towel. I took my shoes off and sat next to her.
"Are you okay?" she asked me.
"I'm great."
"No, I mean... I woke you up so early today and you haven't had any of your..." She trailed off and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said looking down. "I just read-"
"You read something?" I asked, cutting her off. Had someone leaked a rumor about my addiction?
"I did a little research about heroin addiction to try figure out what you were going through," she clarified.
I calmed down. I was jumping to conclusions. I was almost one hundred percent sure she didn’t know who I was; I needed to stop it.
"What did you find out?"
"That it's not just your mind that becomes addicted; it's your body, too," she said. "And, that opiates are the some of the hardest things to stop using."
"True, and true. I thought it was bullshit when I started, but look who was wrong," I said darkly.
"How long have you been using?"
"Coming up on a year, maybe," I said.
"How did it happen?"
"On tour. We got loaded almost every night. Our first major label album had done great. Whenever we got to a new city, the first thing we found out was where to get weed. We had a date in Philadelphia; after the show, we went back to our bus. One of the guys in the band, Jeffrey, let these guys come with us who sai
d they could score us some weed. They gave us weed, but they also had dope.
"I hadn't been smoking that night, but I was drunk. One of the guys offered to get me high, and I let him shoot me up. I thought that would be the last time, but I was looking for dealers all of our next stops.
“When I got to LA, I found a doctor who I could get pure, pharmaceutical grade stuff from and an endless supply of needles. I started needing more and more, cutting people off and getting in trouble because I'd be too high to play." She hadn't interrupted me, so I kept going. I couldn't look at her telling her this stuff, but I could feel her blue eyes on me.
"I was already upset about how the band was getting, but when I started getting high, I stopped giving a fuck completely. In the beginning, I wrote most of our stuff, and they let us make the music we wanted to.
“Finally, before our European tour dates were announced, I left. They've been trying to get me back, but I can't do it. I can't make that shit they want us to make."
I almost kept going but stopped myself because I had said too much. I had almost told her about Kirsten, but even she wouldn't want to hear about that. She'd think I'd need to be put on the watch or something.
"If you were clean, would you go back to your band?"
"I don't want to get clean for them. I want it for me," I said, finally looking at her. She had turned her body so she was facing me. "Even if we never get back together, I still have to live with myself. People die from this shit. I don't want to go out like that," I admitted. I felt her hands wrap around mine and rest both of them on her crossed legs.
"If you'll let me, I'd really like to help you get better," she said. "I think it would be really sad if you went out like that, too."
Why, I wanted to ask her. What could she possibly gain from helping me? We had just met. We'd only known each other a few weeks.
"It's gonna get really ugly. You won't like me when I'm withdrawing," I warned, jokingly. I felt her squeeze my hand.