Chapter 10
We pull into the long drive that leads down to Quinn’s eyesore of a house. Even though it is painted the most hideous shade of lime green and pink, it’s actually kind of growing on me. Somehow, I like it, and I’m glad Quinn decided she did too.
“So, you wanna grab a quick shower and figure your contacts out, and then we can get going?” I ask, pulling to a stop in front of her house.
“Where are we going?”
I smile, opening the door. “You’ll see,” I tell her, getting out of the car. I open the back door, grabbing some clothes, which I always have with me given how frequently I surf. “Actually, mind if I grab a quick shower too?” I ask.
Quinn slow blinks at me, her mouth dropping open into a tiny O shape as she stares at me from the front passenger seat. It suddenly registers what I’ve said and how she’s likely interpreted it, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I mean separately, obviously,” I tell her before shutting the back door. “But of course, if you wanna save water and shower together, I’m not gonna say no to that either.”
Quinn smirks at me through the window, shaking her head as she gets out of the car.
She’s still wearing my board shorts, her rogue bikini bottoms long gone.
I’m wearing nothing but a towel, having free-balled it surfing this morning before donating my shorts to her.
The whole clothes swapping, practically naked thing is weirdly arousing, and I’m definitely sporting a semi right now under this towel.
“I’m sure you’re not,” she says as we make our way up to the front door. “How about you make yourself at home while I take the first shower?”
“Sure thing, Quinn,” I say with a smile as we head inside.
I drop my clothes on the kitchen table as Quinn heads to her bedroom. Opening a bunch of cupboards, I find a glass. Grabbing it, I fill it with water, gulping it down in one go before refilling it.
Opening the fridge, I smile at the box of cupcakes from Daze’s shop, lifting the lid to see which ones she got just as Quinn walks back into the kitchen.
She’s freshly showered, her hair wet and pulled into a messy knot on top of her head. She’s wearing this short dress too that has these thin straps and shows off her amazing body.
Fuck.
“Shower’s all yours,” she says, handing me a clean towel. “Just down the hall.”
I grab the box of cupcakes from the fridge, putting it on the table as I pick up my clothes. “Thanks, won’t be a sec.”
The bathroom is still warm, the remnants of Quinn’s shower filling the space.
It also smells like her—this fruity combination that somehow takes my semi to mostly hard.
When I reach in to turn on the water, though, pulling off my towel as images of Quinn naked in here fill my brain, I see her discarded bikini top hanging over the glass screen.
And it’s enough to take my dick from hard to raging boner.
“Fuck,” I groan, stepping into the shower.
The easiest thing to do would be to jerk off, but that somehow feels wrong on so many levels.
Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit, jerking off whenever the situation called for it.
But here in Quinn’s bathroom, with her in the other room and every single part of me wishing she was here in the shower with me.
Whole different story.
“Fuck my life,” I mutter, turning the water to cold as I step under it, forcing myself to stand there as I wait for my dick to get the memo and calm the fuck down. When it does, I turn some of the hot water back on, quickly washing before it decides to get excited again.
When I’m done, I dry off and quickly get dressed before heading back to the kitchen.
“Thanks for the shower,” I say, sitting down across from her, an easy smile on my face.
Quinn is picking at a cupcake. “Thanks for the surf lesson.”
Chuckling, I grab one of the vanilla cupcakes from the box. “Anytime,” I say, shoving half of it in my mouth. “So, you ready to go?”
“Where are we going?” Quinn asks.
Standing, I again tell her, “You’ll see.”
I pull up in front of the warehouse, turning to Quinn, who is taking in the huge sign emblazoned on the side of the building. It’s actually new, something Nate did not that long ago when Dad decided he wanted to re-brand a little.
“Coming?” I ask as we get out of the car.
“Kai, what is this?” Quinn asks as she gets out.
Smiling, I meet her at the front of the car. “This is where I work. You said you wanted to see some of the boards.”
She gazes up at the building, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses, but a look of surprise is still visible on her face. “I mean, yeah,” she murmurs. “I guess I didn’t expect...this.”
“It’s our family business, Quinn,” I say, taking her hand in mine as I lead her into the workshop. “It means a lot to us and a lot to this island. We don’t just make boards for anyone,” I continue.
“You don’t?” she asks.
“Nope,” I reply, shaking my head as we step inside.
“Grandpa started it, and back then it was small and kinda something he did for friends. It eventually grew, but when my dad started working here, he got the idea that we should focus on customs. Boards that mean something and belong only to a particular surfer. They’re one-offs for each person, so they don’t get re-sold, and if they get damaged, Dad will always fix them. ”
“So what, you can’t just walk in and buy one?” she asks as her gaze wanders around the large open space.
“No. Dad will only make a custom board for someone who he thinks will respect it. I told you earlier that surfing is good for the soul and for connecting with nature. Your board is a part of that.” She turns to look at me, her sunglasses now pushed on top of her head as her eyes scan my face.
“What?” I ask, almost nervous because I’ve never really explained surfing like this to a non-surfer.
“That’s really beautiful,” she whispers.
Grinning, I squeeze her hand as I lead her further inside. “I knew you’d fit in here.”
“Kai!”
I turn to see Dad standing beside an almost finished board that I know he’s made for the Aussie girl who beat Alana in Maui Pipe. Turns out she’s a cool chick, someone Flynn knows, and Dad was more than happy to welcome her to the Olsen family.
“Yo, old man, how’s it going?”
Dad laughs, coming over to give me a hug. “How are you doing?” he asks, a huge smile on his face. “And more importantly, who is your friend?”
“Dad, this is Quinn,” I say, introducing them. “Quinn, this is my old man, Tanner.”
“Nice to meet you, Quinn,” Dad says, a smirk on his face as he glances over at me.
I roll my eyes because I know exactly what he’s thinking. Before he can say anything, I add, “Quinn has just moved to Maui. Gave her a surf lesson this morning.”
“Oh?” Dad asks, brow raised in question. “And what did you think, Quinn?”
She smiles, a blush coloring her cheeks as she says, “Actually, I loved it. I sucked at it, but I loved it.”
“You didn’t suck,” I laugh as I throw an arm around her shoulders. “You just need some more practice. And a board.”
“Oh no, I can’t—” Quinn starts.
“Relax,” I tell her. “We still do a non-custom range too and a couple second-hand ones, so don’t worry,” I add with a wink, just as Mom walks out of the back office. “Yo, Mama!” I shout.
Mom turns my way, a smile on her face as she makes her way over to us.
I drop my arm from Quinn’s shoulders, pulling my mom into a hug as she clasps her hands on my cheeks and turns my head from side to side, just like she’s always done.
“Kuu keiki,” she says with a smile. “And who do we have here?” she asks, turning to Quinn.
“Ma, this is Quinn. She just moved to Maui,” I say. “Quinn, my mama, Luna.”
My mom smiles at Quinn, holding her hands out as she takes Quinn’s in both of hers. “Aloha, Quinn. E komo mai. Welcome.”
“Nice to meet you,” Quinn replies.
“I’m just showing her around. Gave Quinn her first surf lesson this morning,” I explain to my mom, who has a smile I recognize on her face. It’s a smile of hope, that she somehow thinks this is all way more than what it is.
I wish it were, but it’s not, and I don’t want to tell her that.
It’s not like I bring other girls here. In fact, I never have. But my mom knows who I am, and she knows I’m not ready to put down roots just yet. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t wish for it every single day.
“I see,” Mom says, glancing at Dad, who just shrugs. “Well, best you show her around then.”
I lean in and kiss her cheek before grabbing Quinn’s hand again. “Come on. Come check out our wall of fame,” I say as I drag her over to the back wall, the space filled with photos of surfers on their Olsen boards.
“Recognize anyone?” I ask, gesturing to two recent additions.
Quinn leans in, looking at them both before she turns to me and says, “Alana and Flynn?”
“Yep,” I confirm with a nod. “That’s Alana surfing Maui Pipe. Her first pro comp and her first custom Olsen,” I tell her. “And that’s Flynn at the Masters on Oahu. His big comeback.”
“And his first Olsen board?” Quinn asks, still staring at the photos.
“Yeah,” I say with a laugh. “Although the dude’s got like four of them now. Loves them.”
“Wow, your dad must really like him?” Quinn says.
Chuckling, I say, “Well, he is a five-time world champion, so yeah, Dad will give him pretty much whatever he wants. Alana too.”
“He’s won five times?”
“He’s won a shitload more than five times,” I tell her. “He’s won five world championships. That’s like the culmination of a year each time. Dude is a fucking great surfer. They both are.”
Quinn blows out a breath as she turns back to the photos. “Remind me never to surf with those two,” she mutters as she moves down to the center of the wall and the large, framed photo that hangs in the middle. “Is this you?”
“Yep, that’s me, Miles, Dad and Grandpa,” I tell her, pointing to each of us. “Grandpa comes in every now and then, but he’s given up working here. Just wants to surf now, lazy shit.”
“Your grandfather still surfs?”
“Fuck yeah, he does,” I say with a laugh. “He’ll be surfing till he dies.”
“How old is he?” Quinn asks.
“Hmmm, I don’t know,” I say, turning to Dad. “Yo, Dad, how old is Grandpa?” I shout.
Dad laughs, shaking his head as he says, “Sixty-eight. Still kicks your ass out on the water too.”
I laugh, giving Dad a shaka as I turn back to Quinn. “He’s probably right. Grandpa’s kind of a legend.”
Quinn blinks, turning back to the photos again. I watch as she silently takes them all in, her eyes moving over every single one of them. I’ve lost count of how many we have now. All I know is that every single surfer who has gotten an Olsen board is up on this wall.
It’s a tradition I love and one I plan to continue whenever Miles and I take over this place.
“So, you wanna come look at the boards?” I ask as I take her over to a corner where we make some non-custom boards that are usually sold to the mainstream surf shops.
It’s not like they’re shitty or anything, and they still bear the Olsen name, but they aren’t customs, and none of them feature Nate’s designs.
It was something Dad wanted to keep just for the customs when he first came up with the idea, even if the first few years it was someone else creating those designs.
Still, every person who got a custom was invited to bring their board back and get one of Nate’s designs put on it. Pretty sure literally everyone did too.
So fucking cool.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Quinn says, shaking her head. “I’m not sure I should get one just yet. What if I—”
“Quinn,” I say, turning her to face me. “You loved it out there today. I know it, and you know it. It was written all over your face. Every fucking wave you caught, even the ones when you got nailed, you always came up laughing.” I pause, smiling at her as I add, “Get a board, okay?”
“Okay,” she says quietly.
“Good,” I say with a nod. “And after we’re done here, we’re heading to the fish market, and then it’s back to my place for a barbecue.”
“Wait, Kai, I can’t take up your whole day,” she says.
Laughing, I pull her toward the boards. “Why not? I like hanging out with you,” I tell her. “Besides, the whole gang is coming, and you know you’re one of the gang now, so that means you gotta come. Okay?”