“Good job, Aya,” Kai says while moving around behind me.What is she doing—
Kai’s hands fall softly onto my hips. My trunks are lower than I thought because her hands are on my skin, and I need to think of hurt puppies or Aya’s mom—something horrible—or this won’t end well.
“Like this,” Kai says softly. She knows exactly what she’s doing right now.Unbelievable. Is it, though? I did this to her last night. She guides my hips slowly from side to side, and she needs to take her hands off me–like–right this second.
“Okay—so game, set, match—you win. Yup. We’re good. I—um—can you watch Aya for a sec? I need to run to the restroom really quick.”
Kai chuckles. “Of course. Oh, Denver, did you want a lei to take with you? I have an extra.”
I turn to face her, dumbfounded, wanting to ask if she’s kidding, but by the arch in her brow, I don’t need to ask. I turn back toward the pool area and continue walking, thinking about everything and anything except for Kai’s hands on my hips.
“Twenty Waia Road,” I tell the driver.
“Are we going to see our new house now?” Aya asks as I buckle her into the cab.
“Yup, and our truck should be there by now too.”
“I hope my room is purple,” she says.
“Well, we can paint it if it’s not, so don’t worry about that.”
“I had fun today. I wish we could live at the hotel with Miss Kai.”
My heart does a little flip at the sound of her name coming out of Aya’s mouth. “Baby, Kai doesn’t live at the hotel. She just works there, and people don’t typically live at a hotel.”
“Fine. Then maybe we should have Kai move in with us,” she continues.
“Aya, you just met her.”
“So did you,” she points out.
“I’m not the one suggesting she should live with us or we should live with her.”
“Yeah, you are.” Why am I fighting with a seven-year-old, like a seven-year-old?
The ride is less than ten minutes from the hotel, which is good because by the looks of the cars out front, I think we’re going to be heading right back there. The previous renters were supposed to be out of here hours ago. Maybe it’s the cleaning crew, but the toilet paper running along the front shrubs doesn’t scream clean to me. “Um, can you just hold on a minute?” I ask the driver. “I have a feeling we’re going to need you to take us back to the hotel.”
“Of course,” he says.
“Aya, come with me,” I tell her, opening my door. She unclasps her seatbelt and slides out behind me.
“What’s the matter?” she asks.
“Hold on, baby.” I take her by the hand and warily walk up to the front door and knock.
“People are yelling inside,” Aya says.
I pull her behind me and lean over to peer into the frosted glass window. I can’t see much, but there are people inside.
The door flies open, and a burly guy wearing a stained, wife-beater shirt with his gut hanging out stares at me for a long second. “What do you want?”
“I’m the new renter. Are you—”
“We’re the current renters—the renters who aren’t leaving. Take a hike, kid.”
If Aya weren’t standing behind me, I’d have more words to share with this bozo, but I’m not risking anything with her here. I pick her up from behind me with a scoop of my arm and continue backward, shielding her from whatever shit is going on in the house. “Dad!”
I ignore her as I turn around and jog toward the cab, quickly tossing her inside. “Buckle up, Aya.”
