Dimly I think Butch is saying something to me, but I haven’t a clue what. I can’t focus on anything but all the hard muscle and very tan skin just inches from my eyes. Nervously I reach for my piña colada, which has been sitting next to my chair melting for the past hour, and take a watery sip.

“Have you ever tried to surf?” surfer Kai asks.

I shake my head and put my glass back down. “No. I—No. Not the surfer type,” I say, aware that Butch and his friends are listening.

“Why not?”

“Much too hard.”

“Surfing’s easy.”

“For athletic people, maybe.”

Kai smiles. “You’re athletic.” His blue gaze settles on me, a slow, provocative inspection that makes me blush and gets Butch shifting noisily on his lounge chair.

“I used to surf,” Butch says, swinging his legs to the ground and flexing a little. “Down in San Diego. Del Mar. You know where that is?”

“I know the area,” Kai answers, his gaze leaving me briefly, to take in Butch, before returning to me. “What’s your name?”

“Jacqueline.”

“Jacqueline,” he repeats, then stretches out his hand. “Kai.”

“Kai as in sky?” I have to lean forward to take his hand.

“Kai as in sky, but spelled a-i.”

“Ah.”

His hand closes around mine, and his skin is warm, his grip firm. I feel my pulse leap.

“Sure you don’t want to try?” he asks, releasing my hand. “I guarantee I can get you up. Or your money back.”

My heart’s hammering, and it has nothing to do with surf lessons. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He nods, shrugs, smiles that fleeting mysterious smile. “But if you ever change your mind, find me.”

Kai’s gone only five, ten minutes before I feel absolute panic set in.

Don’t leave me here, I think. He’s the first interesting person I’ve seen since I arrived, and I hated watching him go, but I force myself to read. Or at least I try to read. But I can’t get into the story, not when everything feels so tight and hard inside of me. It’s as if I’ve been shot full of anxiety or adrenaline. I’m restless. Reckless. Hungry.

I suddenly want to go. Do. Explore.

But explore what? Do what? I haven’t a clue, but I’m suddenly rushing, jamming my feet into my sandals and wrapping my sarong around my waist.

Butch sits up. “Hey, baby, where are you going?”

“Out,” I say. I can’t seriously be chasing after Kai. That would be stupid.

“Want company?” he offers, rising.

“No, no.” And I’m off, because chasing after Kai is exactly what I’m doing.

And if I find him? I wonder as my feet and sandals sink into warm, soft sand. What then? What will I say? What do I want?