in from the north and the skies had turned black, but the river hadn’t gone choppy yet. Kai still liked watching and waiting. He liked the anticipation of what would happen. Stupid, he knew since the past week had been like a tsunami.
Luka Hale.
Kai’s blood.
He was competing with a dead man.
No, scratch that. He wasn’t a man. He was a boy. A twenty-year-old kid who would never age. He’d be perfect and kind and flawless in everyone’s eyes forever. He had sacrificed his life for his brother. He was a fucking martyr and he took Gia from Kai without even trying.
How the hell could Kai compare to that?
“Can’t,” he told himself, downing his coffee as he watched a large tugboat smooth down the river. Behind him, he heard Keola singing. It was some Macy song she’d been obsessed with for a straight week now. They’d moved past the low, constant migraine-inducing irritation and into supplication and acceptance. He was getting used to the feeling of accepting the things he could not change. But he was still going to delete that fucking song from Keola’s playlist the second his pēpē left with Nalani.
The music started again and his daughter’s high pitched tone-deaf squeal sounded and Kai wished for bourbon instead of the dark roast that filled his throat. He had the mug to his mouth, considering how much it would take to drink that blasted tune from his head when the music stopped completely and Keola squealed.
Kai glanced over his shoulder, squinting as he spotted his girl dancing inside, moving her hands in that way most excited nearly nine-year-olds do when they’re keyed up about one thing or another.
“Keiki?” he called, turning around, stepping toward the open balcony door. Kai stopped before he reached it, forcing a half smile and friendly nod to Gia when Keola brought her out onto the balcony.
“Makuakāne! Look who it is! Miss Gia came to visit.”
“I see that,” he said, rubbing his mouth, disregarding the weeks’ worth of growth on his face. “And did you ask Miss Jilani if she wanted something to drink?”
No need not to enforce good manners even if Kai didn’t know how to act around her.
“No,” she told him, her frown quick. “Well, I thought about it, but auntie just texted that she’s almost here. I’m about to leave.” She frowned at Gia, her shoulders slumping. “I wish I could stay but Aunt Nalani is taking me shopping. She says I’ve outgrown all my clothes.”
“That happens,” Gia said, her smile open, like she wanted to soak up every inch of Keola’s face. Kai couldn’t deny it—she might not love him; she might never stop loving a dead man, but she did love his daughter. “And don’t worry about missing the visit.” She glanced at Kai, moving her eyebrows up as though asking a silent question. “If your dad says it’s okay, I’d love to spend the day with you one Saturday when you’re free.”
“Aren’t you busy?” Keola asked, tilting her head. “Makuakāne said you’ve been so busy that’s why you haven’t been around.”
Gia opened her mouth, glancing at Kai, but not looking directly at him before she took Keola’s hand. “I always have time for you, sweetie. I promise. You just make sure it’s okay with your dad and tell me when you’re free and I’ll clear my schedule, okay?”
“Great!” Keola jumped when the phone sounded from inside the apartment. “That’s auntie. I’ll go meet her in the lobby.”
“You will not,” Kai said, walking after his daughter. “Wait for her…”
He followed her toward the door, stopping as she backtracked to give Gia a hug before she moved out of the balcony and back into the apartment. Kai didn’t let her leave until he heard his sister on the other line of the speaker, calling from the lobby and walked with his daughter to the elevator.
Gia waited on the balcony, and Kai slowed, pausing to check out the thumbs up picture Nalani had sent him of her and Keola in her car. Gia stood staring at the river, her arms crossed, her hair moving in the breeze. Seeing her there, unmasked, her expression free from anything, made Kai forget everything but the memory of how she tasted, how she touched him.
How much he loved her.
I’ve…never loved anyone like… she’d told Kona, telling him what Luka had meant to her—only Luka. Kai would never measure up. Why bother trying? He knew the logic behind that question, but couldn’t eradicate the urge to stand behind