I drop my towel on the sand and dive straight into the waves. A rush of lukewarm seawater engulfs me. I hold the air in my lungs until my chest aches. When I break the surface, I gasp, then dive back in. Again and again I repeat, floating underwater until I can’t hold my breath any longer, then bursting through the surface, screaming for more air. It’s agony and heaven all at once.

On this beach and under this water, no worldly worries exist. Just a fiery sun kissing the crystal-blue ocean and powdery soft sand tickling my toes. A row of gnarled trees surrounds this small strip of beach, marking the boundary of my heaven. In this moment, despite all the trouble it’s been to carve out an existence here, I’m thankful my parents picked Maui. Right now on this beach, in this water, against this sky, it is perfection.

A forty-something man with a killer tan and the body of a long-distance runner wades out of the water to his towel, giving me and the other swimmer at the opposite end of the shore a clear view of his naked rear end. Public nudity isn’t legal on Maui, but everyone looks the other way on Little Beach, one of the few beaches on the island where people routinely shed their clothes. People can swim, tan, and walk around naked. As long as they don’t make a fuss, no one bats an eye.

I tighten the strap of my navy deep-“V” one-piece. I’ve never been much of an exhibitionist, and I don’t ever plan on being one, but I love the “Who cares? Do what you want” mentality of this beach.

Another ten minutes of diving underwater and I’ve had my fill. I settle on my towel and gaze around me. The sun’s Day-Glo orange hue bathes every surface around me. Propping myself up on my elbows, I scan the beach behind my sunglasses. Still just me and the lone guy in the surf, still knocking out laps up and down the beach at a dizzying pace.

When he finally crawls out of the water and makes his way to the shoreline, my mouth falls open. This man is the phrase “holy hot damn” in human form. And he’s totally, completely nude.

Even standing twenty feet away from me, his hotness is as clear as the blue sky above. His tall form showcases loads of lean muscle everywhere. Biceps, shoulders, forearms, calves, quads. And abs. Oh dear Lord, those abs. In a soft whisper, I count them to myself. When I get to eight, I have to suppress a shiver, though inside I’m simmering with heat. I admit, I’m spoiled living on Maui. Six-pack sightings are an almost-everyday occurrence. Much of the population is fit and active, resulting in a higher than average number of hard bodies.