“This is a stunning home,” I tell him.
“It’s …” Nalani pauses as she turns and sees the wall of glass leading outside to the river. “You guys have freaking water?”
“To be fair, most places do have water,” he jokes.
She points. “Water-water.”
“How big is this place?” I ask.
“It’s nine thousand square feet.”
“The tiny bedroom I pictured him sleeping in is actually bigger than our apartment,” Nalani says to me.
“How many bedrooms?” I ask
“Nine,” he answers, and her lips tip up.
I immediately see that this is no bachelor pad; this is his home. This is where Koa wants to raise a family.
“Fuck the bedrooms. Come look at this kitchen island,” comes from that direction.
“Impressive.” I smile as we move in that direction. “Oh my gosh,” I laugh when I see Nalani sprawled out, on the massive island and she's doing snow angels?
“What on earth are you doing?” Koa ask, trying not to laugh.
“Giving you a visual to erase any others you may have from shenanigans on this island,” she says, arching an accusatory brow.
He shakes his head as he walks to the massive fridge. “I can promise you there have been no women, or even a Dash, on the island.”
“I call bullshit.” She sits up, looking around as she hangs her legs over the counter, swinging her feet.
He sets a carton of eggs and a basket of fresh vegetables beside her, takes her chin, and gives her a quick kiss. “Now, there’s been a little something.”
She smiles and slides down. “I’ll cook you breakfast.”
“I’ve got this. Go explore.” He nods to the carrier. “Is she asleep?”
“She is.”
“Set her car seat on the island and go explore with Nalani?”
“Will do.”
He mouths, “Thank you.”
Eyes wide, mouth parting like she’s trying to catch her breath, we start our exploration.
I can’t blame her. The place doesn’t just look expensive—it looksintentional.Every inch of it. The foyer opens into a space so big it could fit an entire team, and the sunlight coming off the Hudson pours in like it’s been waiting just for her.
“Holy shit,” Nalani finally whispers. “This is not the Puck Pad.”
“Technically, it’s a palace,” I mutter under my breath.
She laughs once, then spins slowly, taking it all in. The ceilings go up forever. The kitchen stretches across one side—massive island, double ovens, the kind of range you’d see on a cooking show. There’s a wide staircase curving up toward the second floor, glass railing catching the light.
Nalani keeps whispering, “Oh my God,” every ten seconds—like each turn is telling her that her leap of faith was an actual divine occurrence.
Upstairs, it’s more of the same—nine bedrooms, each one perfect. Guest suites, walk-ins, balconies that open to the water. Nalani drifts from one to another like she’s walking through a dream she doesn’t trust yet.
