Chapter 2
Lani
“You made it,” I called out when I spotted Kekoa descending the dune to join us. “I wasn’t sure you would after the way we shut down the bar last night.”
“Because someone decided he wanted to try his hand at shooting pool against me,” they grumbled as they slid down the last part of the dune. “Where’s Nyx?”
“Regretting his life choices,” I said and pointed to the lump sprawled on a beach blanket beneath a coconut tree, a floppy hat pulled over his face.
“After we walked you back to your motel, he got it in his head that I should make a batch of coconut candy for us to snack on as well as a batch of Pancit Bihon, so I sent him to the twenty-four-hour mart to get the ingredients while I caught a quick nap. In hindsight, I should probably consider myself lucky that he didn’t fall asleep in one of the aisles after the twenty-minute walk it takes to get there, but I was too inspired by his suggestion to think that far ahead.
I was feeling rather refreshed by the time he got back, and he so kindly aided me in getting everything prepped so I didn’t have to break out the food processor. ”
“In that case, I’ll refrain from giving him shit for passing out before breakfast,” they said as they unpacked several cartons from their backpack. “I stopped at the food hut down the street from the motel and grabbed us some breakfast sandwiches.”
“Nice,” I said as I weighed the ends of the blanket down so they wouldn’t flutter so much.
The wind blowing off the ocean was steady and a bit cool this morning, though I knew it would warm up later in the day.
“Ohh, this looks delicious,” I said as I opened the lid on the container holding the sandwich he’d brought me. “What kind is it?”
“Scrambled eggs with cheese, onions, and spam,” they explained.
“Now that’s a sandwich,” I said, lifting it from its Styrofoam carton only to put it right back down when the wind threatened to blow the carton away.
“Here, let me,” they said, reaching for the carton, so I lifted the sandwich to my lips while they put it back in the paper bag he’d taken it out of.
That they’d assessed the issue and helped me deal with it without making me self-conscious just made me like them even more.
I’d lived my whole life minus a flipper, which made things in and out of my shifted form a challenge and provided more than one opportunity for people to stare, which was just plain rude.
“Did someone say food?” Nyx asked from under his hat.
“Yup, scrambled egg sandwiches,” Kekoa explained. “So drag your ass over here and enjoy one before they get cold.”
“Mmm, you had me at eggs,” Nyx grumbled, removing the hat from over his face and sitting up to rub the sleep from his eyes.
His progression across the blanket wasn’t the steadiest I’d ever seen, even crawling with the occasional pause to brush the hair out of his eyes.
Sleep-ruffled didn’t even begin to describe him as he accepted the container Kekoa held out and clutched it to his chest, inhaling and sighing dramatically.
“Now these are the kinds of party favors that will get you invited back to future events,” Nyx declared.
“Good to know.”
“I’m a cheap date, I know,” Nyx said. “But it really doesn’t take much to earn my appreciation.
“He says that now,” I said. “But you just wait and see how he acts when we run out of French onion dip.”
“Only because nothing else goes as well with spicy nacho Doritos,” Nyx explained.
“Not to mention the unfairness of the chip-to-dip ratio. It’s disproportionate and grossly stacked against those of us who like to dunk our chips more than a few centimeters, and by that, I mean all the way down in there. ”
“As someone who appreciates the centimeter-at-a-time approach, I’ll have to take your word on it,” Kekoa said.
“Meh,” Nyx sputtered, “you don’t know what you’re missing.”
His sputtering, accompanied by the scrunched-up face he made in response to Kekoa’s words, was almost worthy of animation; it was that comical.
One would have thought Kekoa had offended the Dorito gods with his words.
It was all I could do to focus on my sandwich and not Nyx sitting there doing his best Loony Tune character impression.
“I mean, I’m sure it’s okay and all,” Kekoa said, giving a little shrug that bared a bit of their shoulder as their oversized tank top strap started to slide down their arm.
Wait a minute. Was Kekoa giving him shit?
They caught my eye and winked, confirming my suspicions.
Oh boy.
Challenge accepted, but would they be able to handle Nyx’s brand of exuberance when he got wound up?
In a flurry of motion, Nyx located the bag of chips we’d packed and pulled the French onion dip from the cooler, passing both to Kekoa with a shooing motion, urging him to try it.
“You’ve got to get it all the way down in there,” Nyx encouraged once Kekoa had a large chip pressed about halfway into the dip.
I could see the skepticism on Kekoa’s face as they went ahead and dunked it the rest of the way in, but it was completely erased after they popped the chip into their mouth and hummed appreciatively.
“You might be on to something there,” Kekoa declared after they’d finished swallowing.
“And that’s another convert, thank you very much!” Nyx declared.
“You were just looking for justification for buying two jars,” I pointed out.
“Is that really something I have to justify?” he asked. “Look at the bag, then look at the jar; it’s a no-brainer.”
“Even if a third of the bag is air?” Kekoa asked.
And there they went, giving him shit again.
I knew Nyx ate that shit up and, despite the late night we’d had, was more than happy to be there on the beach with Kekoa as we basked in the rose hues of a gorgeous sunrise.
Those spicy nachos really complemented the breakfast sandwiches and made up for not having the ketchup and hot sauce I usually adorn my scrambled eggs with.
Sitting side by side, a classic rock playlist steadily pulsing from Nyx’s phone, we enjoyed the easy rhythm of quiet company.
Neither of them saw the need to fill the moment with useless chatter, and neither did I, even when a gull parked itself nearby and attempted to caw out encouragement for us to toss it a bit of food.
Inevitably we all got full and tucked our trash in a bag and what was left of the dip and chips back where they belonged until we were hungry for them again, which left us with nothing to do with our hands and only the music to entertain us.
“Do you surf?” Nyx asked, face bathed in the golden light the sun had started to put off now that it was climbing up the horizon.
“Sometimes,” Kekoa said, “but I haven’t had a board in forever.”
“We brought an extra down, just in case,” I said.
“Then it’s a good thing I brought along a wetsuit,” Kekoa said, gesturing to their backpack. “Do you guys come here often?”
“Every chance we get,” I replied. “This spot isn’t easy to get to, as I’m sure you discovered on the walk down the path, so most people don’t bother. It’s been unofficially ours for almost a decade.”
“Bet this wasn’t what you were expecting when we promised a party,” Nyx said.
“I’ll take this kind of party over the threat of being arrested,” Kekoa said.
“There was never a real threat,” I sought to assure them. “Nuno’s nights out are legendary for a number of reasons, though he usually gets someone else to do his dirty work when it comes to getting physical with someone. It was good seeing him on the other side of a bad evening for a change.”
“He’s not who I want to talk about,” Nyx said. “I’m curious to know more about you, Kekoa.”
“Not much to tell,” they explained. “I love long walks on the beach, picnics, and sunsets, though sunrises are beautiful too. I’m good at working with my hands, am more of an outdoor person than an indoor one, and I’m poisonous to damn near everybody, which is why I’ve never bothered to fill all of that in on a dating app since that last part can be a bit of a deal breaker for most, and the ones who are into it aren’t exactly the people I’d like to have turn up on my doorstep looking to take me out.
Most folks tend to frown upon waking up to itchy, burning sensations and swelling in indelicate regions of their bodies, though I have to admit that there is a small but growing crowd of people who seem to get off on it. ”
I couldn’t help snickering at the images that flickered through my head, and Nyx didn’t even try to smother his laughter. We grew so loud that the gull finally gave up and left and took a few feathered friends with it.
“Does the whole random swelling thing happen a lot?” Nyx asked, snickering in between words.
“Far more often than I care to admit,” Kekoa said.
“I’m just glad none of them turned out to be my mate.
What a cruel joke that would have been, to be given a mate who was allergic to me.
It has made me far more cautious about the people I try to date, since I tend to attract macho types who insist they are immune to my toxins or only experience mild reactions when exposed to them. ”
“Yeah, that part about your mate being allergic to you would suck,” I said.
“Are you mates?” they asked.
“Halfway,” I explained, stretching out my arm to show them the incomplete bondmark on my wrist. There were one-inch pieces missing on both sides that I was anxious to see filled.
“I’ve heard of that,” they replied, “but I’ve never seen a bondmark with missing pieces.”
“Most people haven’t,” Nyx explained, “since it only happens with multiple mates, and humans still have a bit of a hang-up about people being poly, so most shifters keep that bit of information to themselves.”
“Especially when there are a few species who have the same hangups about multiple mates as the humans do,” I pointed out.
“I’ve met a few of those,” Kekoa said. “Mostly avians.”
“Yeah, those birds seem to be pretty particular about the whole one-mate thing,” I replied.