We were several minutes down the street when I asked again, “Your family?”
“No. Respect the rules.”
I squinted up at him. Sunshine rained down on his profile, which was a pleasant one to look at, not going to lie. He had fluffy, wavy hair that kept falling over his forehead, a straight nose, attractive lips, and one firm jaw. His neck was thick and fit perfectly onto a pair of broad shoulders.
He side-eyed me, never missing a step. “Admiring my presence?”
“Would you rather I tell you about my many lovers…in case someone asks who so-and-so whisking me away is?”
His jaw hardened, the muscle at the joint contracting. “Do you seriously have benefit buddies here?”
“Would you like to know? I can tell you about all seven of them. Current ones. The past ones don’t matter. But only if you tell me about your family.”
“The hell?”
I smirked. “Are you bothered that your nemesis gets so much more than you?”
“You’re obviously lying.”
“You’re obviously bothered.”
“I’m unbothered.”
“Hmm,” I hummed, merrily walking alongside this tall, brooding giant who noticeably side-eyed me every other minute.
He grunted. “Fine.”
And then he proceeded to tell me about his family in Olympia, all superficial but helpful details to know should anyone ask, and not knowing more meant we weren’t that serious. Plus his sisters, Sheila and Sienna. What they did for work, their ages, and how they weren’t married but may or may not be dating at any given moment.
“You haven’t met them, and I haven’t told them about you. So if they happen to call while we’re all together, or someone brings it up, it won’t be a surprise. And to show we’re not that serious, so when we break up, it won’t be a shocker. And your family?”
I matched his details, but of course my family knew about him, and we were all hanging out apparently.
“So you’re more into me than I am into you,” he stated.
“My heart is more open than yours. You’ve been hurt in the past, not ready to love again.”
“Fair enough.”
We walked in silence after that, and all the while I wondered if his sisters and parents were like him, quiet and sarcastic but brilliant in their field.
“Where are we hiking?” I asked when we met up with his friends at the water fountain. “One of the valleys? Sure your legs can take it before the big day?”
“We’re going to a monument, I think.”
By “monument,” he meant Pu‘ukoholā Heiau National Historic Site, where I hoped he and his friends would be respectful of the ancient land or otherwise I’d be that vocal, and therefore unlikable, person telling people to calm down.
Before that, we walked along Lapakahi State Historical Park. I should’ve advised against trekking these areas during the hottest parts of the day. While other parts of the island were cooler, even cold or rainy, this side was not. The lava rocks only intensified the heat.
I slathered on more SPF—coral reef friendly—and offered the bottle to Sejal, who gawked at me.
“Trust me,” I assured, “brown people sunburn, too.”
“I’ve never sunburned.”
“You’d think that, but this sun will have your skin blistering and peeling and little sweat blisters popping all over the place.”
She cringed.
I wagged the bottle. “Don’t risk it right before a wedding.”
April agreed, pulling her bottle out of her purse. She held a typical cream-colored version that matched her lighter skin tone.
I said to Sejal and Maya, “Mine is pigmented for melanated skin with a matte finish. You’ll love it.”
At that, they took the bottle.
I offered it to Sunny. He shook his head.
“Sunburn is essentially your cells self-destructing to protect the rest of your cells from radiation-inflicted DNA mutation. Don’t neglect cells willing to die for the rest of you.”
Sunny stared at me, and I stared back, neither of us willing to budge.
“Babe…” I said sweetly.
He grunted and relented and applied SPF. “Happy?”
“Extremely.” I swiped a smear off his chin, ignoring his annoyance.
