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So, instead of joining them, I head back up to my room and put on the bikini I splurged on when I found out I was coming to Hawaii. I bought a plain black one-piece that I thought would be more professional if I hit the beach with any new acquaintances, but I couldn’t help myself when I saw the tiny leopard print.
It may as well be Victoria’s Secret, for all the coverage it gives me. It shows off every curve I own and then some. But I’m in Hawaii. I want to make the most of it. My olive skin tans easily and I’m looking forward to a few more hours of baking myself happily in the late afternoon sun.
I throw a pink cotton sundress over the top for the elevator ride, grab a hat, slip on my flip-flops and head down to the beach.
My bikini is definitely too risqué for the hotel’s pool, where I might run into Brad and Co. So I wander a little further down the beach to find a place to swim. I park my towel and pull out my book.
I can still hear the hum of conversation from the beach bar, laughter and the sound of glasses clinking. A guy with dirty-blond dreadlocks is giving a surfing lesson to two kids nearby while their parents watch.
I take off my dress and wander into the water, which is the exact same temperature as the tropical air. I float there for a while, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. Maybe one day, after I’ve conquered New York City, I’ll come back here. Maybe I’ll buy a little condo near the beach.
Maybe I’ll come back with my lover to celebrate at the beach bar where we first met.
Sure. Earl has lot to answer for, planting romantic ideas in my head when I’m the least romantic person on the planet. After my father left, I watched my mother not-quite-date a series of losers throughout my childhood. She was always wary of bringing men into our lives and I was grateful for that. Not one of them seemed like someone I hoped would stick around. And they never did. They left my mother just a little more disappointed, jaded and broken-hearted each time, and I watched her motivation to conquer life slowly leak away. They killed her dreams and, little by little, she allowed it.
So it was up to me to figure out my own dreams. I always knew that only one thing would get me where I needed to go: my own hard work. And there’s only one person I can rely on to get me there: myself. So there’s not much point daydreaming about things that will never happen. If Brad is the caliber of guys on offer at the beach bar, I’ll pass.
I wander back onto dry land and lay on my towel, letting the sun dry my skin.
A shadow darkens the page I’m reading.
“Hey.”
Shading my eyes, I look up to see the surf instructor grinning at me. His eyes are green and his skin is deeply tanned. He looks like the ocean is his one and only source of bathwater—not that he looks especially dirty. Just…salty. Earthy. He’s probably around my age. “Hey.”
“You want a free surf lesson?”
“Um. No thanks.”
I try to go back to my book, but he sits, reclining next to me like we’re old friends, not caring that he’s getting covered in sand. “You ever surfed before?”
I don’t reply right away, half hoping he’ll take the hint. The one in which I’m not interested in being ogled by an admittedly cute surfer—if you happen to be into the kind of guy who lives out of his van and chases waves for a living. If I’d lived a different life, maybe. But, as it is, I’m a million miles from this guy’s wavelength.
He’s still grinning, waiting for me to answer his question.
I finally relent. “No. Never.”
“Where are you from?”
“Texas.”
“I tried surfing in Galveston once. Wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Yeah, it’s not really known for its surf.”
“I’m Lucas.” He holds out his sandy hand.
I take it lightly. It would feel rude not to at this point. “Dusty.”
“You here on vacation?”
“Conference.” I give a little nod toward the hotel, where the party at the bar is gaining momentum.
“You look too young to be at a work conference,” he comments. “Is this your first time in Hawaii?”
“Yes.”
“How come you’re not hanging out with the stiffs?” His question is ironic, like he already knows the answer to that question.
