“Well,youdon’t,” I say with a friendly smile. “Only the jealous Neanderthal assholes do.”
“And you really think that’s Jamie in this scenario?” Seb raises an eyebrow at me. “That his storming off just now was nothing deeper than a base, primal instinct?”
“Seb…” I draw out his name, pleading with my eyes for him to drop it. “Look, I really don’t need someone to psychoanalyze the situation right now. What I need is a drinking buddy. Okay?”
“Whatever you say, Sybil.” Seb’s arm comes around my shoulder again, and I let myself lean into the crook of his neck. “Whatever you say.”
16
IDON’T SAY MUCH ON THE WAY BACK TO THE RESORT, BUT AS WE NEARthe hotel pool, Sebastian nudges my shoulder. “You up for going into town? The guy who dropped me off from the airport told me there’s an aloha festival this afternoon. I thought I’d go and get some shots.”
“Rum?”
“Photography.”
“Ah, right. That too.” I give Seb a small grin. “Sounds good.” I’m too spun out to get any real work done this afternoon, so I might as well enjoy what the island has to offer.
“Perfect.” Seb grins down at me. “You know, you’re my favorite person to photograph.”
“Really?” I always loved being photographed by Sebastian. It was the only time I could be certain that he was fully in the moment with me. I knew I had his unwavering attention, and he wasn’t planning his next trip or looking for his next adventure.
“Really. The camera loves you.”
I’m about to respond with something teasing, like,are you sure it’s just the camera?but the words get stuck in my mouth when I spot a sweet little scene playing out across the pool.
An older man is helping his wife down the small set of stairs from the garden that leads from the bar to the pool area, his hands on her elbow. Once they both reach the bottom, she turns to cup his face with one hand, and he bends down to drop a kiss on her cheek before whispering something in her ear. She swats at his arm but lets out a short bark of laughter. They’re both grinning as they settle into a pair of lounge chairs. My heart clenches.
Sebastian follows my gaze.
I swallow the lump in my throat and try to smile. “The festival thing sounds great. Let me just change again.” I’m still wearing a bathing suit and linen pants from the ride and picnic. “Meet back down in the lobby at four?”
“Perfect,” he says with a grin, and I start to make my way toward the elevator bank. “And hey, Sybil,” he says quietly. I turn to face him. “I’m sorry again about before.”
I nod, not trusting my voice to respond. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
AT FOUR P.M.,Igo to meet Sebastian in the hotel lobby as planned. I’m feeling rejuvenated in a fitted coral-red maxi-dress with halter-style straps that tie behind my neck, hair loose and just a little wavy, the tiniest bit of blush. I managed to create a really good Flowies reel with all my waterfall footage from earlier. I’m determined to put the horseback riding incident out of my mind. To not let myself get hung up on the past—both whathappened this afternoon,andwhat happened a year ago.In order to move forward, we need to unburden ourselves from what’s come before, Gwendolyn always tells me.
I’ve always kind of believed in fate, and maybe I’m here not just for work but for a reason: for the actual transformation the blood moon eclipse promises.
Maybe what feels like chaos is just attempting to swim against the current; maybe what I really need to do is actuallygo with the flow.
Sebastian’s waiting for me. He’s changed into an ostentatious Hawaiian shirt with the top two buttons undone, but somehow, he’s pulling it off. He steers me through the lobby and out to the front of the hotel, where he hops into the driver’s seat of a gold cart emblazoned with Halia Falls’s logo.
“How’d you convince them to give you a golf cart?” I take the seat beside him.
“I’m very persuasive.” He gives me a conspiratorial wink, and I’m surprised by the laugh that escapes me. We crest a small hill and head the short distance to town. Sebastian has always been a skilled driver; I watch him maneuver around a small sedan and a couple of cyclists. The breeze ruffles his blond hair, andsomethingflickers in my chest.
The road is blocked off for the festival, so when we get close to the center of town, we park the golf cart and start walking. The streets are strung with bright streamers and lined with huge, car-sized arrangements of plumeria, pink hibiscus, and other bright-green native foliage. There are stalls selling leis, ti leaf wreaths, goddess sculptures, authentic food, and all sorts of hand-crafted souvenirs. On the other side of the street, a stage has been set up, where hula dancersperform to guitarists singing soothing Hawaiian music that instantly relaxes me. A few stalls in, a man flips sticky Portuguese sausages and Hawaiian pork, the edges slightly charred. Its sweet barbeque smoke billows off the grill, and my mouth waters.
We continue to wander, passing a cart selling bright-purple ube ice cream. Next to that is someone frying malasadas, which I learn are a Portuguese tradition and basically the most delicious doughnut holes on the planet. Seb swings his arms around my shoulder, pulling me deeper into the crowd. The familiar, spicy scent of him surrounds me, and I let my arm come around his waist.
What am I doing, exactly—trying to convince myself of the boyfriend charade too? But I shoo away those thoughts.Go with the flow, I tell myself. I deserve to feel good, and right now, leaning into Sebastian feels a hell of a lot better than darting around the resort dodging Jamie.
We pass a stall filled with racks of brightly colored sarongs that flap in the afternoon breeze and another piled high with koa wood that seems to glow from within. While Sebastian buys us a couple of beers, I stop at a jewelry stall. The pieces are all handmade, the vendor tells me as I trail a hand along the display tables, and I recognize her name as the shop owner Ash told me about, the one who made Ash’s green beaded earrings. A milky, pearlescent stone winks up at me from its setting in a delicate gold band. It’s unique. Almost otherworldly. “That’s moonstone,” the vendor says.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell her, captivated by the way the light plays across its surface. My fingers trace the smooth face of the stone, and I imagine it catching the moonlight, its iridescentglow shimmering against my skin. It’s stunning, but probably way out of my budget. I thank the woman and move on to browse some other pieces in her shop while I wait for Seb.
At one point, I slip a woven bracelet over my wrist. I’m admiring it when Sebastian returns.
