My face heated, my stomach flipped, and my knees went weak enough that I slid down lower into the water to hide my reaction to his words.
6
Vick
Hidingmy reaction to him for the rest of the trip proved more difficult. His presence weighed me down at every turn.
We would go out to eat and he’d sit next to me as if he thought we’d suddenly become friends. When I ordered a helping of the pig roast, he scrunched up his nose as if I offended him. Then he went on to tell the table about the detriment of meat to our health.
Of course Jett was vegan. His overly practical mind couldn’t fathom eating food for pleasure. Food was fuel and, according to him, meat was like feeding your body unleaded when you could have diesel.
Nope, he corrected to electric.
We’d have sundowners on the hotel beach and he’d hover at my elbow like a pesky fly, a very large, very sexy pesky fly.
We would go for a hike and he’d decide to come with, even though he complained the whole time.
On a particularly rigorous hike, he critiqued my hiking style the whole way, telling me I needed better shoes and I was going to fall, and then he smiled smugly when I did.
I didn't give in to the weight of his negativity. Even on that hike, covered in mud from my fall, I made it all the way to the Queen’s Bath. The rocks jutted up against one another as we climbed them along the water’s edge. A steep slope fed into a pool of crystal-blue water. The surf lapped at the rock surrounding it as one wave crashed in and the bath swelled with more water.
I turned to him and said it would be the best way to get rid of the mud but he scolded me about my clothes getting wet.
So I started to pull my shirt over my head, undeterred, but he growled as he grabbed my arm and told me I’d better fucking not. I wasn’t sure if he was possessive or concerned others would judge us, but I let it go. Instead, I waded in with my outfit on and made sure to tell him how amazing the water felt. I sighed and moaned as I washed the mud off, like it was the most pleasurable experience of my life. I told him it was even better because I'd fallen and could wash the mud off.
Then my last morning in Kauai came. I sat on top of a cliff, watching the water down below.
The day was chilly and cloudy, but the sea was calm, waves barely lapping at the rocks. The soft breeze blew through my hair, reminding me to relax and let the wind whisk away any anxieties.
I ducked under the chain fence that kept people away from the cliff’s edge and stepped right up to it. All I saw was green mountains and water meeting the clouds on the horizon. Standing on the bluff, witnessing nature in all its glory, made me feel bigger and smaller than ever before at precisely the same time. I sat down and let the feeling wash over me.
“Fuck me, woman. You shouldn't sit so close to the edge.” His voice made me jump.
"Jesus! Warn someone when you're behind them. Especially when they're on the edge of a cliff."
"Like I said, move back. There’s a reason for the fence," he commanded as he wiggled the chain.
I turned back toward the sea. “I'm not moving.”
I heard a low grumble and then he sighed. "God damn it."
I turned to find him maneuvering under the chain before sitting right behind me. I furrowed my brows. “What are you doing?”
He tucked his legs on either side of me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "Making sure you don't die on this trip because apparently you have a death wish."
I glared. "No, I don't."
"You went on about a hundred dangerous hikes and whenever you came across a sign saying danger or caution, you did exactly what it said not to do."
I shrugged. "You only live once, right?"
"Can't enjoy it if you're dead because you fell off a cliff."
"I'm aware that I can't enjoy things if I'm dead, Jett."
"Could have fooled me," he murmured as he nuzzled into my neck and looked out at the sea.
I let the conversation die. I didn't want to argue while I took in the sun on the water or the waves breaking against the rock wall. We stayed cuddled against one another for too long. So long that I memorized the way I felt secured in his arms. I memorized how he smelled—like a citrus soap mixed with sea water—and how his chest felt like solid, steady ground against my back. I tried to catch my heart as it fell for Jett but it may as well have been plunging over that cliff. The slope was steep, jagged, and too severe to correct.