“There are no hotels on this side of the island. Not within walking distance, anyway.”
“I’m not staying in a hotel.” I don’t bother with much more information, not needing him to know I’m not a tourist, which is exactly what he thinks I am.
“Ah, decided to go full Hawaiian getaway and stay where the locals stay. I like it. I can’t wait to show you around, friend,” he says, this perfect smile on his face, all straight white teeth against his tanned skin.
“Sure, something like that,” I reply, and as I begin to walk to the shore, leaving the water, he follows me.
“So, how about we meet around one? Does that work for you?”
I look down at my watch, noticing it’s still early, but I’ve been waking before the sun rises, still struggling with the six-hour time difference. I haven’t really gotten out much to explore the island, spending the first few days holed up in a hotel room on the tourist side, and then moving into my rental and trying to get settled.
If I’m being honest, I’ve been wallowing, but it’s time to get out and enjoy the beauty of my new home, and the perfect way to do that is with a local.
“That works. Where am I meeting you?”
“I can pick you up. Friends do that,” he says, and I swear he’s as persistent as they come, but holy shit, he’s hot, and saying no is going to be hard.
“I’ll just meet you.”
“Okay, but the offer stands if you need it. Do you have your phone with you? I’ll give you my number.” He waits a second, but I shake my head.
“Not with me, so you’ll just have to trust that I’ll meet you there.”
“What’s a girl who looks like you doing out here without a phone, wandering the island?” His words come out a little possessive, but in a way that makes me feel comforted, protective and caring rather than dominating and controlling.
“I think we both know it’s pretty safe,” I say, winking at him now. “So where am I meeting you?”
We agree to meet at a local place that Kai said is his favorite, letting me know it’s not far from the beach we were just at.
He offered to walk me home, but I declined, worried that if he ended up at my house, I would end up in bed with him. My self-control and my self-esteem are in the shitter right now.
Heading back, I make a quick stop at the little bakery not far from my house. It has the cutest name ever, “Daisy’s Flour Shop,” and the branding is simply adorable with shades of pink and glittery gold.
I haven’t been in here since I moved into my house, only stopping at the coffee shop down the street to grab a cup. I’ve been too focused on finding a place to live, and tomorrow I have an interview for a job at one of the hotels as a massage therapist at the spa.
As soon as I walk into the bakery, I’m welcomed by the most delicious smell, and a woman behind the counter with long dark hair and a pink apron greets me with an enthusiastic hello. She looks to be a little younger than me, but certainly friendly.
“Welcome in! Our flavor of the week is papaya coconut, and our signature cupcake is pink vanilla. Take a look around and let me know if you want to sample anything.”
“Thanks so much. Everything looks so good,” I say, bending down to look at the cupcakes lining the glass case in front of me.
“This is your first time in,” she says, and it’s not asked as if it’s a question but more as a statement. She seems to know her customers, and I’m not one of her regulars.
“It is,” I share, enjoying all the friendly conversation I’ve had this morning.
“Where are you visiting from? Guessing you’re off doing a little tour of the island,” the woman says.
“I’m from New York, but I just moved here, so I guess I’m touring, but more because I’m trying to get the lay of the land.”
“Oh my god, seriously? You’re going to love it here. So much to do and see. Let me get you a cupcake on the house. A little welcome gift. Which one would you like?”
As she asks me this, a guy walks out from the back of the shop, pulling off a pair of gloves. He tosses them into a garbage can before pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
“Babe, this is…” the woman trails off, looking over at me. “I didn’t get your name. I’m Daisy,” she stops, shrugging her shoulders in the cutest way as she looks up at the sign bearing her name. “And this is my fiancé, Miles.”
“I’m Quinn,” I reply, and as I look at Daisy’s fiancé, he looks familiar, but I brush it off. There’s no way he’s anyone I know. I just got here and have literally only made one friend, if you can even call him that.
“It’s great to meet you. How long have you been here?” Daisy asks as Miles stands beside her, his arm around her shoulders.
