Chapter 6Hazel
Chapter 6
Hazel
The world is dark, and I’m falling fast.
I expect to hear some sort of horrific splash. Feel the hard metal of the hot tub railing, or worse, a skull-jarring conk on patio tiles.
Instead, I feel his arms wrap around me.
Mr. Hunk is saving me.
I still can’t see anything, but I can feel him scoop me up. “Oops, hang on,” he says. “I got you.”
He does .
He has me, safe and secure in his arms. My feet aren’t touching the ground anymore. I feel him cradling me against his muscular chest. Heavenly . When he lowers me down onto a towel stretched out not far from the hot tub, it’s with the utmost care.
“Your blood pressure dropped,” he says confidently as if he's a world-class heart surgeon. “Just lie there for a minute and let everything equalize.”
“E-e-equalize?” I murmur groggily. It’s hard to talk. My head’s swimming.
The inky blackness that swallowed my world yawns open. I see the clouds, a few emerald, green palm fronds, a white-silver beam of sunlight, and…
Stunt Devil.
He’s hovering over me. I see his bare shoulders, his flexing pecs… Even his collarbones are attractive.
“Coming back to life?” he asks.
“Ugh… the rum.”
“That might’ve done it. Just lie here for a minute. Then, we should get you a coconut water.”
“Went black… for a sec… hrm. Am I dying?”
His warm, easy chuckle lets me know I’m not. “Nah. It’s pretty normal. When I lived out in Salt Lake City for a while, our condo complex had a hot tub. People passed out all the time. Hey, your coloring’s getting better already. You turned pale. Now I see that rosy tint here.” He touches his thumb to my cheek, very lightly. “That’s good. Means your heart’s pumping blood around better.”
The simple touch sends me spiraling.
Maybe Alexis is right, and I need to get out more. Is it normal to feel a cascade of desire when all a guy’s doing is touching your cheek?
It felt so intimate.
He’s into me, I think, as I listen to the drum beat inside my skull.
But maybe he’s just being a nice person . Him sweeping me into his arms was the good Samaritan thing to do.
He’s not into me.
Then again… he did say all those nice things while we were soaking. He called me clever, sweet, and beautiful.
He has to be into me.
I struggle to get my elbows behind me, then I try to push myself up.
Womp, womp, womp. Either a helicopter is landing nearby, or I am not as recovered as I think I am.
“Hey there, Speedy,” he murmurs, “lie back down. You just gotta chill for a sec.”
I rest my head back on the towel. “This is embarrassing.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.”
“I should have hydrated. This is not my first day on planet Earth, I promise.”
When I dare to look around, I spy a few people casting worried looks my way. “Did I make a scene?”
“It’s like I told you, you look like a star in that suit. You’re gonna make a scene wherever you go. You get the spotlight.”
“Ugh. Thank you for not calling the ambulance. That’s the last thing I need.”
“Lemme guess. Your mother would worry sick.”
“How do you know that?” I sigh and catch a glimpse of a set of legs walking by. I’m half in the walkway, half out of it. “I feel weird lying here like this with people walking around.”
When he crouches down, I’m not sure what he’s doing. Is he going to move me out of the pathway?
Nope.
He stretches out on the beach towel next to me. “How’s that… better? Now it’s like we’re sunbathing together. No big deal. How’s your head doing?”
He rolls to his side and watches me with equal parts concern and adoration.
Lying here with him on one towel feels so couple-ish. This beach towel is wide, but not that wide.
It feels almost like we’re lazing in a big bed on a cozy Sunday morning. Like he’s about to suggest we order take-out, just so we don't have to leave our happy cocoon.
Like he might reach out and tickle me, just to make me laugh.
Like I could inch in, press my nose to his chest, and feel his big arms wrap around me so tight, I’d know nothing in the world could ever hurt me.
“Um… better,” I whisper-stammer.
“Good.”
“How long do I have to lie here?”
“Another ten minutes.”
“Ten?”
“Doctor’s orders.”
“Are you really a doctor?”
“Ha.” The guffaw is one of those belly laughs. “I love that you’re really asking me that. Nope. I don’t have the focus. I respect what they do, but it’s not for me.”
“I dated a doctor once,” I murmur. The ground under me rolls as if it's a big water mattress. My head is still woozy, and it feels dream-like to speak out loud.
After the words come out, I’m not sure I said them.
But I must have because he’s peering at me with interest.
“Yeah?” He props his head on his elbow. “Tell me about it. I talked way too much about my ex. Let’s even things up.”
“Oh… I don’t know. It’s boring.”
“Come on. We have ten minutes to kill. I doubt it’s boring.”
“No, it’s boring. My life is pretty… hm. I don’t know if I want to go into this.”
“Ah, come on. We’ve got nowhere else to be. Humor me.”
“Well, he was technically a doctor. An M.D. But his doctorate was in dentistry. My dad’s a dentist, and this guy worked at the same office, so I bumped into him a lot. I guess we went out for a couple of months, all told. Disaster.”
“Was he always after you about using the right tartar control toothpaste or something? Coming after you with one of those terrifying drills those guys wield?”
“Har har.” The pounding in my head fades to a rhythmic ache.
Actually, this back-and-forth with him is helping me.
If I keep talking, maybe that’ll make the movies in my head stop playing, too. Lying horizontally with a guy does not give me the right to fantasize about being the little spoon.
“He never came after me with a drill,” I say. “And he didn’t care what toothpaste I used.”
I study a passing cloud, so I don’t have to look at Mr. Hunk. “Actually, that’s not true. One time, he suggested that I switch brands.”
“Knew it.” He laughs. “Okay, so, what was the deal? What went wrong?”
“Um… he was a little older. Six years. Way more experience.”
“ Ah hem. Hoo… ‘scuse me.” He hits his chest. When I look over, I see pink tinting his tanned cheeks.
Did I make this King of Confidence blush?
I did!
“Okay, sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m listening. So the guy’s older, more experienced, and it was a problem… what… in the bedroom?”
I hear myself squeak. “Okay, no! That would be oversharing…”
His rumbly laugh meets mine. “Right, right. I thought we were getting into some juicy stuff. Okay, so, what happened?”
“Well, like I was trying to explain, he had more experience, as in life experience,” I tease. “Specifically, marriage. He was just getting through a divorce when we started dating. Or, at least, that’s what I thought. That’s what he said. Turned out, the divorce wasn’t as official as he made it sound.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah… it sucked.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it was fine. It wasn’t meant to be.” I wave breezily like that chapter of my life is nothing but a pesky gnat I can shoo away.
That wasn’t what it felt like at the time, though. Not at all. I felt betrayed and used. That relationship undermined my confidence. It made me scared— really scared—to try dating again.
“The guy sounds like a loser,” Stunt Devil offers. “If that’s any consolation. You should have used your ‘no creeps’ line on him when he took a pass at you the first time. All caps.”
“Think it would’ve worked?”
“No. No, I don’t. The guy was married, and he led you to believe otherwise. Means he’s got no morals, so he’d have no problem violating your ‘no creeps’ rule.”
“Are you married?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Are you sure? That can get confusing, even to smart people who know about blood pressure. Maybe you have the papers, you talked to the lawyer… You’ve been renting an apartment for a few months. But you just didn’t quite get around to signing anything. Maybe your wife wants to try counseling.”
“Believe me when I say I would never take advantage of someone like that. Especially a person as cool as you.”
It’s probably dumb of me to be so touched by his promise.
I don’t even know this guy.
However, I am touched. I find myself smiling up at the clouds. “So now I’m clever, sweet, and cool? Are you always this liberal with the compliments?”
“I told you I have a silver tongue.”
“You buttering me up for something, or what?”
“I am.” He checks the sporty watch on his wrist. “And… that’s ten minutes. You can get up if you feel ready.”
“Wait—for what? What’s all this charm leading to?”
He hops to his feet and then offers his hand. “Dinner. If you want to. You really should get a coconut water, and I heard the Tiki Grill serves up mean burgers, too. Food wouldn’t hurt your situation.”
“So, this is for my health and wellbeing.” I grip his hand and let him help me up.
“That, and for fun. We still have some business to deal with, too.”
“Can we eat in our suits?”
“Everyone else is.” He gestures to the tables, occupied mainly by folks in their swimwear.
“I am starving. Sure.”
I didn’t come to Hawaii expecting to go on a date. I haven’t dated in years. Why break my streak now?
His hand in mine gives me the perfect reason. He’s leading me toward the line of tan, thatch-roofed tiki huts that line the pool area.
Okay, I can have some fun. I’m on vacation.
I like this guy. Too much, probably, given that I have known him for all of forty-five minutes.
My mom was right when she said Hawaii is a romantic destination. This setting is making me feel all lovey-dovey inside. Huge pink and white flowers bloom on dark green, leafy bushes. Palm fronds sway above me, bathed in golden light from the sinking sun. I hear the soft swish of the waves.
As we pass my chaise, I grab my black sundress and slip it over my bikini. I tuck my phone in my purse, along with the book I failed to read.
Maybe I’ll get to it tomorrow. My evening seems to be all booked up, and that is more than fine with me.
He makes a peace sign at the hostess when we arrive at the podium in front of the Tiki Grille. “Table for two, please.”
“Right this way,” she says.
I smile as we follow the hostess. Table for two. It’s wild, how much I love the way that sounds.