by Eden Butler
Kai was beautiful. She was attracted to him. Even if she had to keep herself from him for reasons that were logical and rational, she could at least be honest with herself about what impact he had on her.
“No cuts, no bumps,” he announced, looking down at her.
“It’s my ankle,” she told him, pulling his hands out of her hair. “I think I can make it, but I dropped my cell and my keycard in the damn drain. It’s gonna be a pain in the ass replacing all that shit!” She nodded to the offending grate and Kai glanced toward it, his head shaking. He seemed to understand her frustration. It would take forever to get a new keycard from the super and she’d have to waste an entire morning replacing her license at the DMV. Not to mention waiting on a new cell.
He turned back, moving his hand over her chest, nodding after several seconds before Gia slapped his hand away. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing if you still had a heartbeat,” he yelled, looking as ridiculous as Gia felt with his hair matted to his head as they continued to get drenched.
“Of course I still have a heartbeat. I’d be dead if I didn’t!”
“Uh huh,” he said, standing. “Then you don’t have a damn thing to complain about.”
“You can’t let me have even a second of complaining, can you?” she asked, taking his hand, knowing she sounded ridiculous, likely incredibly bratty. But it had been a long day and longer afternoon. She was tired. She was exhausted and, as she lifted to her feet and tried putting weight on her right foot, she realized, she was in more pain than her irritation and adrenaline allowed her to acknowledge. “Son of a bitch!”
“Bad?” Kai asked, frowning when Gia gripped his wet shirt.
She inhaled, shifting her weight to the top of her top, figuring if she could take it slow, she’d be fine, but no…not even then. Kai watched her, his expression worried when he covered her hand on his shirt with his fingers.
“I’m sorry,” he told her, looking for all the world like he meant it.
“For…for what?”
“You’re gonna hate this,” he said, then bent forward, moving one arm to the back of her neck and the other behind her knees. She released a noise, something that she meant to be a complaint, as Kai adjusted her, bringing her body closer, settling her against him like she weighed nothing at all, and all thought left her mind. “Come on,” he told her, moving toward the building. “I’ll get you dry and wrap your foot then you can bitch about anything you want.”
She curled her arm around his neck, leaning against his shoulder, letting herself enjoy the heat of his body and the smell of his skin and, for the life of her, Gia couldn’t think of a single thing she wanted to complain about.
KAI’S APARTMENT was different from the last time Gia had been in it. As she sat shivering on the end of the chaise, he insisted she take while he hurried around the place trying to find things she guessed he thought would help her, she scanned the changes he had made.
There were pictures now on the walls; all bright colors of a young girl—his daughter’s, Gia assumed—smiling face. There were pictures of them together in front of a purple sunset, of Kai and a woman who could have been his twin with a younger version of the girl between them. There were pictures of Kai in his U of H uniform and some of him, Wilson, and Pérez with the Las Vegas skyline behind them as they lifted their glasses to the camera.
He’d made this apartment his home now by adding his friends and family to it, but Kai had also put up posters, mostly of Star Wars and Firefly, several Marvel vintage covers that seemed to fit him somehow along the vacant spaces of his walls and around the shelves on his entertainment center.
“Here,” he said, hurrying back to Gia with a thick terrycloth robe he draped around her. “I have some boxers you can roll up and a hoodie, but for now, until I wrap your ankle, warm up with this.”
The man didn’t leave Gia much choice. He had her arms through the massive robe, tying the belt and her wet hair in a towel before she could refuse him.
“What about you?” she asked, pointing to the water dripping from his thick hair. “You’re going to ruin this chaise and your…friend will be pissed at you.”
“It’s stuff, Gia,” he said, using the hem of the long robe he’d given her to soak up the wetness in his hair. “Stuff can be replaced.”
“That explains your predicament.”
Kai looked up at her, pausing with an ACE bandage in his hand. “What predicament?” She remained silent as he watched her, his attention sharp, focused before he shook his head, returning his attention back to her ankle. “If you’re talking about my financial situation…I paid the penalty.”
“I heard,” she said, leaning forward to watch how he held her foot, moving it closer to examine the swelling. Gia only sat back when Kai tilted his head, fanning his fingers in a wave to make her rest against the cushion. “And I wasn’t talking about the ten grand.” She winced, tried to pull her foot out of his grip, but Kai held onto it. “I…meant your…over-generous…ow…indulgences.”
He didn’t look up at her as he moved the foot around, his features pulled down in concerned. “You’re nosey.” He held her leg in one hand, the warmth of his palm relaxing her, as he reached for the bandage. “What I do with my money,” he continued, his attention on the work he made of wrapping her swollen ankle, “has nothing to do with you, the franchise, or the damn league.”
Gia remained quiet, letting Kai do his work, focusing on how attentive he was, how carefully he touched her before he sat up, moving his head to get a better look at his handiwork.
“There. That should help,” he finally said, looking up at her. He sat across from her with Gia’s foot against his thigh and his palm resting on her bare leg. But the way Kai looked at Gia made her feel naked. She hated how attracted to him she was. She hated how easily he could draw her in just by looking at her, taking care of her—something no one had ever done before.
“Thank you,” she said, pulling her foot back, stopping short when Kai held onto her leg.
“What I did for my people, I did because they needed it. If it left me short—”
Gia shook her head, sitting up to take his hand, wanting him to listen, to understand her clearly. “I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with no family.” When he tried to move his hand from her touch, she curled her fingers around him. “You’re my lineman. I did research. I had to. What I’m saying to you has a point so listen. Please.”
Kai eased, turning his hand so that her fingers rested against his palm.
Gia liked that. It felt…easy. It felt natural. “I grew up the only girl in a house with four boys. My parents both had a lot of siblings they were close to. Everyone is Catholic. No one believes in birth control. There were a lot of damn kids. It’s so noisy there, Kai, you have no idea.
“But everyone is there for everyone else. We all have each other’s backs. We do for each other without being asked. So, when you tell me that you and your sister were kids who didn’t have your own people until you teenagers, I get why you wanted to keep them. I get why you wanted to help other people who didn’t have the things you didn’t have when you were coming up. Trust me, I understand.”
“How can you? It’s a different world you lived in.”
Gia nodded, understanding that he’d probably never really know about her, about what had happened to her twenty years ago. Her struggle might be small compared to his, but it was still a stab to her heart she didn’t think would ever heal completely.
“Everyone has a struggle, Kai. Everyone is carrying something.” She watched him, waiting for the argument that never came before she continued. “Loyalty, you’re great at. I know that firsthand. But you’ve got to figure out who matters more. The people who were there for you before you made it…” Gia looked to those pictures on the wall, to that little girl who had her father’s beautiful smile, “or the girl whose entire future is dependent on the decisions her father makes today. She’s your legacy. You have to give her
a solid foundation.”
For a long while, Kai just watched her, his gaze unfocusing, his attention shifting from her features, to the pictures of his daughter, of the life they led back in Hawaii. Then, he nodded, staring down at Gia’s hand, moving his thumb across her wrist, his head shaking as though he’d never considered what sacrificing for others would mean for his child’s future.
“I’m…an idiot sometimes…” he admitted, seeming unable to look at her. Then Kai cleared his throat, running a hand over his face before he stood, offering Gia a hand. “Come on. I’ll help you to the bathroom and you can grab a shower and get into some clean clothes.”
“The super…I need…”
“I’ll take care of it,” he told her, staring out of the window when another lighting strike lit up
the sky. “Might want to hurry in case the power goes out.”
“THERE IS NO WAY,” Gia said, her laughter louder than she meant it to be when Kai made that face. “Wait…how in the hell…”
“It’s the Pennywise eye-thing. I tried it a hundred times. This is the closest I came to it.” He crossed his eyes, moving one to the right, alternating the left and right at the same time to make them look like pinballs hitting against each other and Gia lapsed into a fit of hysterics.
“Stop it…oh God!”
“Wilson can do the Pennywise thing…I don’t know how the hell he manages it.”
“It’s impossible,” Gia said, holding her stomach. “It’s gotta be some computer graphics thing.”
“Nah, the guy who plays Pennywise said he does it. I saw the interview. It’s the freakiest damn thing.” Kai reached for his glass, squeezing more of the frozen margarita mix into it, his nostrils flaring again, as he sniffed the drink. “I can’t believe this is what we’re stuck drinking.” He’d found several pouches in the back of his freezer from, he guessed, when the mysterious friend of his’s wife had hosted a girl’s weekend for her cousin’s birthday.
“Hey, mister, you’re the one that has lived here…how long? Five months? And all you have to drink is cheap margarita mix in a pouch?” Gia sipped her half-unfrozen drink, wincing at the taste. “If I get drunk from this, I swear, my Nonna Maria will kick open her casket and take away my Italian card or something.”
“Italians don’t drink margaritas?” Kai asked, grinning into his glass.
“Excuse me, junior, but Italians are classy and like real grownups, we drink wine, red preferably. White if we must.”
Kai’s shoulders shook as he laughed, choking on his drink. “Oh…hoo, excuse me, granny. I didn’t realize your delicate Italian sensibilities couldn’t handle cheap margarita mix.” He rolled his eyes when Gia waved him off, dismissing the insult. “Now, if we were in Hawaii, I’d ply you with oke. That would make your nonna proud.”
“Hawaiian moonshine? Yeah, I’ve had it,” she said, enjoying the shock that rounded Kai’s eyes. “See? I’m full of surprises, young grasshopper.”
“Oh, I have no doubt.” He kept his gaze on Gia’s face as she drank, adjusting in his seat as she stretched her leg, leaning up to drape her ankle on his bent knee. “Keep it elevated.”
“Uh huh. If you say so.” Gia didn’t comment on how Kai held her leg still at his knee or how relaxed they were reclining against the wicker loungers on his balcony, watching the rain crash against the city around them. Damn that spark. It was back and seemed to have no intention of leaving. It was black everywhere now, the electricity shutting off an hour before. Now there was only Kai’s company and the crashing of thunder and the sound of the rain against the metal balcony roof to break apart the quiet of the night.
“When did you have oke?” he asked, pulling her attention from the darkness around her.
“God. I must have been…twenty-three? Couldn’t have been any older than that. I went to O'ahu with my friend Claire. It was her present to herself for passing the bar.”
Kai rubbed her bare leg as she spoke, a lazy, absent-minded gesture Gia wasn’t sure he knew he did. She felt serene, calm even if she wore loose boxers rolled up and knotted at the waist and one of his black Steamers tees that fell off her shoulder every time she moved her hand.
“And what did you do in O'ahu?”
She smiled not sure how honest she should be. But there had been nothing between them save some mild flirtation. Besides, Gia had a past before him. She was sure to have one after he’d stepped out of her life.
“A fire dancer from Waipahu.”
The stroking on her leg stopped, then the lounger next to her shook and Gia looked at Kai, joining in his laughter. “And did the fire dancer do us proud?”
“Most definitely.”
Kai shook his head, and the rubbing continued. “There are always people who like to give the tourists the whole Hawaiian experience.”
“Did you ever offer anyone the whole Hawaiian experience?”
“Never a tourist.” He looked at Gia then, pressing his lips together. “But I’m keeping my options open.”
She wasn’t drunk enough for this. Not for the glint in his eyes and what it told her. Not for the smooth, slow stroke of his finger against her thigh and how it made her feel. Not for the slowness of Kai’s movements when he set her leg on the lounger, making sure that her ankle was out of the way before he came on his side to face her.
“Gia,” he said, taking the glass out of her hand. There was nothing he needed to say to her. No convincing that would make her change her mind about anything happening between them.
None of it was needed.
“My God,” she started, her tone sounding awed even to her own ears, “how you look at me.” She wanted the words back inside her mouth seconds after they left.
It was too late.
Kai was already moving.
His palm to her face, fingertips moving her chin up and Kai held his mouth inches from Gia’s, ready, waiting, breath warming her lips.
“This is a profoundly bad idea,” she said, just as she smoothed her fingers over his wide arm and up his shoulders, running them along his neck to rest against his cheek.
“Then tell me to stop.”
She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.
“Can’t,” Gia said, meeting Kai’s kiss when it came for her.
Then Gia knew what every look Kai had given her meant. He was fierce with every sweeping brush of his lips against hers, with the flat of his tongue inside her mouth, tasting, touching like he couldn’t get enough of her. Every touch meant something, and Gia felt each one with how deeply he kissed her, with how he moved over her, shifting their bodies against the cushions at their backs.
This was nothing like she remembered of him. There was no absinthe or bourbon to dull her senses. There was only the rain and darkness and Kai pressed against her, showing her with the shape of his mouth and the weight of his body how much he wanted her.
“Kai…” She said the name like a wish, trying it out in a breathy whisper that was half moan, half hopeful need and Gia wasn’t sure which she meant more. She only knew that if he stopped touching her, stopped the trail of his lips against her neck, his teeth against her skin and the steely hold of his fingers in her hair, she might just die.
“Kai…” she said again, surprised when he looked up at her, kissing her mouth, adjusting them so that his hips moved against hers and she felt the full size and shape of what he had for her.
“What do you need, nani?” He moved against her and she dropped her head back, fighting the ache that rose up between her legs. “Tell me what you need me to give you and it’s yours.”
“I want…”
Did she know? Gia wasn’t sure. In the dark, the answers came easily. There was nothing here but sensation and movement. There was quiet and the secrets only they could keep. But the morning always came. There would be no stopping it. That was the hardest truth Gia ever had to learn. You can never hide from the sun. It will always rise to meet you.
“Tell me,” he said, pulling on her leg to move
them closer still together, groaning when she instinctively reacted with the brush of her hips against him.
When Kai moved his hand under the tee she wore, when he leaned back over her to move in for the kiss, Gia almost let him touch her. She almost relinquished all her control and let that lineman take whatever he wanted from her.
“Kai…I don’t…”
“Gia… please…” He grunted, pulling his hand from her bare skin but didn’t move away from her completely. She could make out the frustration in the hard lines of his features and the hard set of his mouth. When she touched his lips, smoothing her fingers over that soft skin, some of the tension left him. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m…sorry. I’m just…” She didn’t know how to explain herself. She couldn’t when she didn’t understand it herself. Gia only knew the path Kai wanted her on led to heartache and she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. She wanted him, but not enough to risk what remained of the thing she’d once called a heart again.
Kai opened his mouth, making to speak against her fingers, but stopped, glancing into his apartment when the lights flickered on and a knock sounded at the front door.
“The super,” Gia supplied, moving her hand from his face.
“The super,” he agreed, slipping from the lounger before he pulled Gia to her unsteady feet. “I’ll help you to your apartment.”
“No,” she said, finding her ankle felt less tender and she could manage with a bit more weight on it than she’d been able to bear a few hours before. “I’ve got it.”
She was halfway to the door when Kai stopped her, calling her name over the sound of a second knock.
“If you…figure things out…”
She nodded, managing a smile. “I know where you live, junior.”
“Good. Then you won’t get lost on your way back here.”