Aloha, page 92
“You’re insanely sexy.” She turns on the water and wets her toothbrush. “Always were. Even when your father was teaching me how to surf, it was hard paying attention when you were out there.” She closes her eyes. “I can’t believe he tricked me into thinking you wanted him and I together.”
I pull my shirt over my head and toss it in the hamper. Then I grab two washcloths from my shelf and set them on the counter. “Always hated that saying—everything happens for a reason. When I realized it was actually you and not some doppelganger, I didn’t hate it as much.”
A smile creeps up her flawless face, and she opens her eyes. When she slaps her hand over them, I bark out a laugh.
She elbows me. “You could have given me a heads-up.”
I turn on the water. “Just giving you the same as you gave me.”
“You have tattoos?”
“No,” I answer.
She pulls her hand away from her face. “You totally do.”
I squirt toothpaste on her brush then mine. “Where I come from, this is called kākau uhi.”
She looks over my left arm from my shoulder to my wrist.
“When I told my father I wanted a tattoo, he told me if I was going to mark my body, it needed to be done traditionally.” I chuckle. “When he took me, it wasn’t to a shop, and there were no guns or needles. It was to the mountains and done by a priest who only uses the traditional method called tapping.”
She lifts my arm with one hand and skates her fingertips down my side, where I had more work done this past summer.
“I plan on getting my leg done next.”
“It’s stunning.”
“Each pattern represents something about our culture.” A yawn escapes me.
“Tired?”
“I have practice at seven and a game at four.” I hold up my toothbrush, and she taps hers against mine.
When we’re finished brushing our teeth and washing our faces, we head back across the hall.
I wave my hand toward the bed. “My lady first.”
She climbs in. It’s sexy. “I want a tour.”
I slide in beside her. “Not much to the place. Four bedrooms and—”
“Of your body, your art, our cultural meaning behind it.”
Pulling her against me, I tell her, “If I wake up tomorrow and this hasn’t been a dream, I’ll give you whatever you want.”
She yawns and whispers, “Same.”
A few minutes later, she looks up at me. “I’m not that drunk.”
I press my lips to the top of her forehead. “None of our firsts are going to be distorted by anything, not drink or exhaustion. After that, I promise wild, drunken make-outs and dirty, sloppy sex anytime you want it.”
I feel her smile against my chest, and then … “What the …? Is your nipple pierced?”
I chuckle when I think about how shocked she’s going to be when she sees what else I’ve pierced.
“Let’s sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“You’re sleeping in jeans?” she asks.
“Tonight, I am.”
I wake to Nalani scampering off the bed and am blinded by the light when she throws the door open.
“Nalani, you okay?” I hop out of bed just as she throws up.
Fuck.
Chapter 5
Nalani
When Koa tried to wake me up, I faked sleep … due to mortification. Then he whispered, “See you when I get back.”
As soon as I hear him leave, I drag my ass out of bed, find my phone, which he sweetly put on a charger on his side of the bed, and immediately message Sofia to find out where she is. I then sneak out of the house and freeze my ass off in yesterday’s clothes as I run through the small patch of woods to KET, because hell no I’m not going to see him until I’ve pulled myself together, washed off my embarrassment, and thrown on some dignity … and lip gloss.
I cannot believe I threw up. I can, but I hate it. I drank more than I should’ve, which is not me. In my defense, I was drinking for courage.
“Come on.” Sofia opens the door, letting me in.
I follow her up the stairs, into Lauren and Noelle’s room, and sink down into the queen-sized air mattress. Sofia lies next to me.
“Please let me sleep until graduation.”
The three of them giggle, but I don’t tell them I’m dead ass serious.
Ten minutes later—or at least, it feels that way—Sofia is shaking me. “Wake up.”
“Did they call my name?”
“What?”
“To get my diploma?” I rub my eyes.
“No one called your name, but there is a very hot hockey player downstairs, surrounded by some thirsty sisters, cooking breakfast. He’s requested your presence.”
“What?” I say in unison with Lauren as I spring up.
Sofia grins. “Oh, and there’s also a Dash of a little something else downstairs. My advice, you two shower and get downstairs before your boyfriend—”
“My what?” I ask.
“That’s what he told Hilda”—the house mom—“when she asked him who he was trying to impress.”
“What’d Dash say?” Noelle asks.
“He said he wasn’t at liberty to discuss his motives.” She claps her hands loudly. “Now move it!”
Walking down the stairs, freshly showered and dressed in silky red and clean pajama shorts and a matching button-down shirt that Lauren insisted I wear, I hear his laugh, and everything inside me clenches, except my heart, which begins beating to a rhythm I have never felt before.
Walking into the massive kitchen, I can’t help but notice how tiny it looks with him standing at the stove, flipping pancakes. He’s in track pants and a tank top, his damp hair pulled up. His back is ripped, just like his chest and abs, and his shoulders and arms … pornographic.
“First round’s up.” Dash lifts a platter full over his head and walks to the table in the adjacent dining room. Pausing when he sees us, he winks at Lauren, who’s in black. “Morning, ladies. You’ll have to wait your turn. No perks for sleeping half the day away.”
“The cook disagrees.” Koa turns and looks me over. “My lady gets whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.”
“Remind me to call my grandmother and ream her out for not living next to a hot guy my age with a lawnmower,” one of the girls mutters.
“I’m calling my father and shunning him for not owning a surfing school,” another sputters.
“Your father owns a chain of hardware stores,” Noelle reminds her.
“Not the kind of hardware I like,” the other sputters back, walking toward me.
I’m not sure if I should trip her or …
The stabby thoughts stop when she pops a kiss to my cheek. “Can we schedule this every Saturday morning?”
“You’ll have to ask the chef. I’m not his boss.”
She gives him a pleading look.
He chuckles. “My lady doesn’t reside on Athens Lane.”
She smiles. “We have an extra bedroom.”
“She’s not wrong—Sheena dropped,” another girl pipes in. “You can move in with—”
“So did Hannah,” yet another adds. “I have a bed free.”
I catch Sofia out of my peripheral, wilting like a flower.
“Not sure that’s how it works with housing, but even if it did, I’m never leaving Sofia.”
“The house could use the funds,” Hilda pipes in from where she’s sitting in the corner, reading the paper. “I’d be open to talking to the advisors; see if they’d talk to housing. You girls would have to speak to your parents, and you two”—she points to the two sisters with spare beds—“would have to move in together.” She looks at Koa. “Before any of that happens, you’d have to commit to cooking breakfast Saturday mornings for my girls.”
He chuckles. “I’d love to, but we have away games—”
“The Saturdays you don’t.”
He lifts his chin at me, as if looking for my input.
I hold up my hands. “This has nothing to do with me.”
“Ku’uipo,” he says in a smoldering tone. “It has everything to do with you.”
“Oh my God, that’s so sweet.” Sofia sighs. “Wait—what does ku’uipo mean?”
“Sweetheart,” Koa and I answer in unison.
“I thought I was completely ruined by romance novels, and now I know it’s real.” Sofia pouts out her lip. “I’m gonna end up having five cats and living in my childhood home, in a room that’s Barbie pink and looks like a library exploded in it.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Hilda pulls her e-reader out from under the newspaper she’s pretending to read and winks.
Everyone, including Koa, cracks up.
Sitting on the bleachers at Hayward arena, wearing Koa’s jersey from last year, I’m a mix of exhausted and excited.
Sofia sneakily tries to hand me a tumbler.
“Hell no.”
“It’s hot cocoa,” she assures me. “I didn’t want you to freeze.”
“You don’t have to take care of me.” I lean into her. “Thanks.”
“You’re like my fairy godmother. First, a hockey party, and now we’re moving into KET early? I’d rub your feet.” She shakes her head. “If I liked feet and you asked me to … even though I seriously hate feet.”
“I can’t believe we may be moving again so soon.”
“Maybe?” She laughs. “We totally are!”
“It’s not approved by housing yet. Even though my parents and yours said they didn’t care about losing money, I do.”
“And I love that about you. I’ll make sure to tell everyone how you valiantly fought against this because people are starving and stuff, but—”
“Stop!” I laugh.
“I swear, I’ll be the villain in order to save us from those dreadful dorms.”
“I kind of like them. I met you there.”
“These seats taken?”
I look up at an older couple. They’re wearing Lincoln Lions scarves.
“This is the student section,” Sofia informs them, “for Hayward students.”
They look around at the empty section, and then the woman asks, “Where is your university’s team spirit?”
“Right?” I ask.
She points to my key lanyard. “KET?”
I nod. “We both are.”
“I was a KET.” She beams proudly.
I move my bag. “Please, have a seat.”
Smiling, she sits beside me. “I promise not to ‘dis’ your team. But when our Dean does something amazing, we have to applaud him.”
“Your Dean?” I ask, keeping the conversation rolling. This woman is seriously adorable.
“Our grandson is the goalie for the Lincoln Lions.” She looks around. “We just had a new arena constructed. It’s state of the art.” She reaches into her Birkin bag, pulls out her wallet, and removes a card. “You should have your people contact me when they decide to give your team a much-needed remodel.”
I take it, even though I don’t have “people” to remodel an arena.
“My information is on it, too. It’s always nice to have KET contacts. Shoot me a text message so I have yours.”
“Will do.” I smile.
Sofia looks around me. “This is Nalani’s first game, not mine. Yet, I admittedly never paid attention, so she and I are pretty clueless.”
She leans in and whispers, “I don’t know much more.”
The Lions skate onto the rink, and this sweet woman jumps to her feet, pulls a massive foam finger from inside her coat, and holds it up. “That’s our Dean!”
I choke back a laugh.
“We’re so fucked,” Sofia whispers.
“Totally are. But she’s adorable.”
A tap and a gasp from beside me causes me to look from Sofia toward the rink.
Koa winks at me as he places his giant gloved hand against the glass. I hold mine against it. He then skates off.
“Oh my, that must be the young man our Dean spoke about. The Cock, right?” she asks.
I nearly lose it. However, I manage to gather myself quickly and turn to her. “That’s what they call him. His name is Koa.”
“Interesting.” She watches the ice. “But the name Coc—”
“His full name is Koa Olu Kelekolio. His initials K.O.K, so …” I shrug.
“He’s Nalani’s boyfriend,” Sofia informs her.
“Ooo … very, very interesting.” She grins.
“Very,” Sofia whispers.
With minutes left before the start, the stadium begins to fill.
“Notice it’s mostly women,” Mrs. Costello states. “How smart are we women to let them think they rule the world.”
“So true.” I laugh.
“Very.” She gives me a long wink.
The game begins, and Koa is on the ice. The rest of the world fades away.
It’s obvious that he and Dash are the stars of the team, but Koa rules the ice … on Hayward’s side. I wondered how someone who played football could make such a switch. I quickly realize it has nothing to do with football.
Koa’s on the water; it’s just frozen. He’s surfing but doing it on blades. He’s in his element, and he’s absolutely amazing.
Even though the Lions are killing them.
Chapter 6
Koa
Walking out of the locker room, I can’t help but smile at the message from Nalani.
You’re amazing! I’m in the parking lot, chatting with the couple that sat with us .
I hit her back.
I’ll meet you out there
When I see her, she’s standing in the middle of a whole group of people, including my coach, the Lions coach, and a few of their players.
“There’s The Cock.” An older woman claps her hands. “Bravo!”
Coach Tallman pulls his hat down as he shakes his head.
I tip my head to the woman. “Thank you. We tried.”
“And a valiant effort at that.” She takes my hand. “This is Coach Kosta.”
I reach out and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Son, you don’t belong here,” he states.
“Jesus, Brad, right in front of me?” Coach Tallman snaps.
Kosta looks at him. “Damn right. When this kid goes pro, he’s gonna say Tallman was the man who took a chance on a kid who …” He pauses and looks at Nalani. “What was that again?”
She blushes, giving me an apologetic look. “I just said you were surfing on ice.”
Kosta clamps his hand on my shoulder. “You’re a beast and a natural. With a couple years, I can skate you off college ice and right into the NHL.”
“You’re losing your team at the end of this season,” Tallman sneers.
“I’m losing four seniors and my first line, all of them being courted by the NHL. I’m not losing my team. I have a center who can carry it just like this one does yours.” He pauses and looks at Tallman. “I’m giving you the opportunity to do the right thing. Tell him why he should play with us.”
“It’s not done yet. We have this season,” Tallman snaps.
Not one for confrontation outside of a healthy competitive sport, I walk over and pull Nalani under my arm, kissing the top of her head.
She looks up. “You should listen to them.”
“We have plans.”
She places her hand over my heart. “We’ll still have the same plans. Give them a minute.”
I look at Coach Tallman, who shrugs. “There’s a possibility that we won’t have a team next year. They’re cutting costs. Since Hayward is more of an academic school, sports will be the first to go.”
“I’m here on an academic scholarship.” I look down at Nalani. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Son,” Costello begins, “you’d be given a full ride—housing and the possibility of endorsements—”
“With a name like The Cock, you’ll make millions,” the older woman states.
I have no fucking clue how to reply to her. None. She’s older than my grandmother. She’s …
“You’ll have cock everywhere. Cock jerseys, cock tennis shoes, cock boxers and tank tops. Cock stadium seat cushions will be under the derrieres of millions. People will be eating cock cookies and drinking cock energy drinks out of official cock cups, through official cock straws.”
Nalani shakes in silent laughter, her face buried against my side.
“No disrespect, but the only person I want drinking my—”
“Don’t you dare!” Nalani yells at me, and I can’t help but laugh.
The goalie steps forward, holding out his phone, “Your parents own a business? A snack bar and surf and bait shop?”
I nod.
He lifts a shoulder. “Cock Bait will be everywhere.”
The older woman takes his face in her hands. “You’re genius.”
Holy shit, I think. “Not sure that’s something—”
“Cock Bait,” she interrupts me, sweeping a hand across the air. “A little pop-up style snack stand, selling phallic-shaped snacks. It will bring more ladies to the arena, and the gays from the theatre to the ice.”
“Grandma.” The goalie holds back a laugh while shaking his head. It’s obvious he adores his grandmother.
“Oh please, Dean, hockey needs the gays. Imagine how fabulous it would be.”
“I’m not sure ‘the gays’ is the term—”
She waves him off. “I have my pronouns in my Instagram biography, Dean—I know a thing or two.”
“How the hell did I lose this conversation?” Kosta mumbles, and Nalani giggles. “You wanna help me out here?”
“I think it’s a great opportunity, but it’s his decision.”
“Mrs. Costello says you’re KET. We have a chapter at Lincoln.” He’s now dangling cock bait in front of her.
