by Claire Adams
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 knock 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, 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 said 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 hand 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.
"You don't have to go through this alone," she said. This fucking chick. Why was she being so nice to me?
I didn’t want her to stop, but I didn't get it. I had nothing to offer her. I was a fucking burden. She was my babysitter. She had to drive me around, and now she was listening to me bitch about my shitty problems. Why was she like this? How was she so nice when she had no reason to be?
"I'm warning you, Abby," I said seriously. She scooted closer so her knee touched my thigh.
"I know," she said smiling. She got onto her knees and hugged me. Her arms went around my neck, and I immediately pulled her into me. I held her around the waist, holding her tight. To do that, she had to get her legs on either side of mine.
I felt her small body under my arms and really, really didn't want to let go. I felt her move her arms, but I didn't give. I loosened my hold so she could lean back enough to look at me. I saw a blush creep up her face.
"Do you want to start heading back?" she asked me. I had my hands around her waist, keeping her still on my lap.
"No," I said. My hands went lower, flattening over her bare thighs. "Do you?"
"The sun's going down," she said absently. She brought her hands up and rested them on my chest, lightly fisting the fabric.
"Take it off," I said.
She looked at me, something flashing in her eyes. She bit her lip and looked down at my body as her hands ran slowly down to the bottom of the shirt. I watched her grab it and pull it up, raising my arms so she could take it off completely.
She looked at my chest like she didn't know what to do with it. I took one of her hands and laid it palm down on my pec. She raked her fingers over my skin l
ightly. But when I grabbed the bottom of her tank top and tried to pull it off, she stopped me, pulling it back down. Fuck. Too fast.
"Shit. Abby, I'm sorry," I said. Well done, shithead, I thought. You were so close. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to.”
"No, I'm sorry," she said. She looked down and took a deep breath. She pulled her tank top off slowly, leaving her in a small, light-green bikini top.
She shifted on my lap so our bodies were touching and slowly kissed me. Her kiss was feather light. She was kissing me like she was scared she was doing the wrong thing. I grabbed her around the waist again and pulled her into me. She broke the kiss and looked down at me.
"Are you sure?" I asked. I was pitching a tent in my pants, and where she was on top of me, I was sure she could feel it.
She nodded, reaching behind her and pulling the straps of her bikini loose. She took it off and put it beside us with our shirts. Fuck me, she was beautiful. Her tits were round, with hard, pink nipples. Her body was toned with light tan lines.
She ran her hands down my body again, kissing her way up from my chest. Oh yeah. She wanted me, too. Her lips were soft, kissing my neck and jaw before coming back to my lips again. Her hands went into my hair, down my back…everywhere. She parted her lips for me, allowing me to taste her. She let out the tiniest moan, squeezing one of my biceps.
I felt like I was inside her already and we hadn't even done anything yet. The sound of the waves, everything I'd said to her, my addiction all faded into nothing. All I could feel were her small, soft hands, her body on top of mine.
I felt peaceful, like when I played the piano. She moaned again, feeling me bite her lower lip. Something told me I'd be able to make her make sweet music, too.
Chapter Sixteen
Abby
I didn't know what I was doing. My mind was racing. All I knew right then was that Nate wanted me. He wanted me to help him and now, he wanted me this way.
Every part of my body was buzzing. Running my hands over his planes of warm skin pulled tight over his muscles felt like a dream. The only thing that told me this was real was his hands on me. The light hair on his chest stimulated my nipples as he pulled me into him. His tongue pushed against mine in my mouth. His scruff felt prickly against my face.