toe again. I draw my legs up, bent at the knees with my feet flat on the floor to conceal the other part of me that is fully awake this morning, making sure that the shorts I slept in last night are loose in all the right places. But I’m pretty damn sure she felt just how hard I am when she was straddling my waist—must be mostly what that red in her face is all about.
I want more than anything to carry her into my room right now, lay her across my bed, and carefully strip off her clothes—it about killed me when she stood up and broke the moment—but then I realize how much more it makes me want her, not just physically, but in every way, and I find myself trading sexual frustration for patience, and her heart.
I never make her breakfast. She said she really wasn’t hungry and that lunch was right around the corner. She let me off the hook this time, but I won’t miss the opportunity again.
We set out soon after for Oahu first thing so Sienna can officially check out of the hotel and get her stuff from the room. And on the way over she sits by the window on the plane and looks out every now and then between our many conversations. There’s never a dull moment between us. And barely a full minute will go by without one of us having something else to say, or needing to laugh, or me needing to pat her leg or hold her hand when I see that lingering fear of flying try to rear its ugly head again. She’s not cured. It’ll take more than a few flights to cure her, but she’s already come a long way.
And she should be proud of herself. I was of myself when I made that first bungee jump with my brother. It was a powerful feeling—letting go of my fear—that left such a mark on my life that I feel compelled to help Sienna feel it as I did. I’ll do whatever I can to help her as my brother helped me.
I want to take it a step further.
I know it’s a long shot, but when we get back to Kauai later … I have an idea.
Sienna
The community center looks pretty much the same way it did yesterday, with the exception of a few more tables that have been set against one wall, and several more paintings placed on easels. It’s practically a ghost town in here—the lights are dull, not bright like they were before, which tells me they’re on dimmers; there’s only a few people walking around, carrying trash bags and boxes, and it’s so quiet. That is, until Alicia sees us and practically glides across the room to meet us.
“It’s good to see you,” she says, taking me into a hug. Then she waves her hand about the room, an anxiety-filled look on her olive-colored face. “As you can see, things aren’t going so well.” She looks right at Luke. “I think we’re in over our heads.”
“Ye of so little faith.” Luke pokes fun at her. “Stop worrying so much; it’s two months away”—he looks at me with bright eyes—“and I have a secret weapon.”
My face falls under a blanket of heat.
“Ye of so much confidence,” I joke. “Keep your expectations of me that high and you might be disappointed.”
Luke pulls me against him with his arm hooked around my waist and he presses his lips against my temple. “I doubt you could pull off disappointing me,” he says, and I melt a little more.
Alicia smiles softly at us, and I admit, it’s nice to see a friend of his who’s a girl look at us as if she wants us to be together, unlike someone else I know.
“So”—Alicia props her hands on her tiny hips and glances about the large room—“any suggestions?” Her long black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail at the back of her head; tiny turquoise teardrop earrings dangle from her earlobes.
Luke’s arm falls away from my hip as I take a step forward, cross my arms over my chest and gaze around at the vast, nearly empty space. Contemplating deeply, I let the ideas I’ve been thinking about since yesterday play through my mind.
Taking into consideration Melinda’s small budget Luke told me about on the flight over, I look to them both and say, “Well, I can definitely help you out; I think I have just