Better vs. Worse

Chapter 2-2

I tossed and turned all night, every time I closed my eyes imagining another man bringing Ada to a finish I’d never see in real life.

By the time I fell asleep, the sun was up, which left me in a crappy mood when I hit the beach for a lesson later that day.

“Hey,” I grumbled to the guy straight out of the midwest. I’d done enough lessons with enough grooms that I could pick out where they were from by what they wore to surf.

This guy, with his slightly balding dark hair, bushy eyebrows, and Hawaiian shirt that hung loosely off his slender frame, screamed midwest. He had the classic pasty skin that one only got from a life spent indoors in a place that didn’t offer endless sunshine. My money was on him being an accountant, and if the pink nose and boat hat on his head was any indication, he hadn’t traveled much.

“Hi! I’m George. Are you Kapena?”

He pronounced my name like I was hispanic instead of Hawaiian, rolling his n until it sounded more like a y. Definitely midwest. And wanting to fit in. Twenty bucks said he’d say mahalo after the first instruction I gave him.

“It’s Kapena,” I corrected him. “Nice to meet you. Come on in, and we’ll get you a board and head out back.”

“Oh, here? I didn’t realize we’d be surfing here. You live on the beach?” He walked past me, his eyes glued to the sapphire paradise just past my lanai.

I was a lucky son of a b***h. And I knew it.

“I do. It’s convenient since you have a place to park that you can plug into your phone, and I don’t have to leave to go to work. Are you ready to go?”

He finally tore his eyes from the water and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Go where?”

I nodded toward the hallway that led back to my guest room, also know as surfboard heaven. I had boards to fit just about anyone who came to me for lessons. Since locals had their own boards, I mostly stocked boards that were good for beginners. Wide, long boards to make sure they could catch a wave and stay slow. The last thing I needed was a newbie flying toward the shore and no idea how to stop, or an unhappy customer who spent all day on the water and didn’t snag a wave.

Happy surfers liked to throw in a little extra in tips. I liked happy surfers.

I found a board that would work for George and rolled my eyes when he threw out mahalo. He wasn’t a bad guy. A little dull for me, but I wasn’t the bride so it didn’t matter.

We started on the beach, making sure he knew how to get his feet under him if he actually caught a wave. It would end with a wipeout, but he’d love it.

“Did you bring a rash guard?” I asked.

He shook his head. “This is all I have,” he said, patting his shorts. Thank God they were shorts and not bikinis. Bikinis only belonged on a hot woman.

“I have something you can borrow if you want. Your chest and stomach will hurt like hell if you don’t cover it up.”

George eyed me carefully. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the dude was checking me out, but nope. He was just trying to figure out how my 6’6” frame, broad shoulders, and pecs that made the ladies drool would ever fit his 5’9” body that came with more pouch than pecs.

“I have different sizes. I keep them in case someone doesn’t have a guard.”

George smiled, shaking his head. “That makes more sense. Only in Kerry’s dreams would I ever fit into the same clothes as you.”

I laughed with him knowing his bride was madly in love with him if they came all the way to Hawaii for the wedding. Sure, people got married for the wrong reasons every day, but they didn’t drop the kind of cash you needed to have to get married in my backyard.

And if that wasn’t a big enough clue, it was that George was with me instead of following his bride around to make sure she didn’t screw some other guy while they were in paradise.

Nope, George had nothing to worry about.

“Kiana’s told me you two are perfect for each other. No reason to think she’d ever fantasize about any guy but you, dude.”

George’s eyes lit up at my compliment. We all had those moments, but George was about to get married. My personal opinions about marriage didn’t come into play. He was psyched about it. And he should be.

Better him than me.

We headed into the water and got George ready to go. He followed directions well, taking off when I told him to go. Ninety minutes into his lesson, though, and he still hadn’t caught a good wave. He had a few little ones, but nothing that blew my skirt up. I wanted to see George fly.

“I’m not doing it right,” he lamented when he joined me again. “I keep missing it.”

“Nah, you’re doing great. I’m holding you back too long. We’ll get the next one.”

We were both frustrated, but I had to keep my spirits up so he didn’t lose his patience. He was going back and telling his bride he kicked some wave’s a*s if it killed me.

I glanced behind us and saw a sweet set rolling in. My mouth watered at the idea of taking it, but I was there to do a job. And stealing a killer wave from under my client’s nose wasn’t it.

“Get ready, George. This is your wave.”

“You said that last time,” he complained as he turned his board.

“I know. I was wrong. This one was made for you.”

The added compliments worked wonders. George licked his lips and gripped the edge of his board. I held the tail in place, waiting until it was just right. George didn’t even bother to look behind him, just trusted me to tell him when to go.

When I shouted and gave his board a shove, he took off. That mother fucker paddled like Jaws was on his a*s. I yelled, watching as the wave drew closer to him, until he disappeared in front of the swell.

I held my breath, knowing he was on his own now. Either he caught the wave and was riding it to shore, or he was under the water and trying to find the surface.

Endless seconds ticked by as the wave crashed in on itself.

Then I saw him.

He was crouched low on his board, the wind blowing his hair back.

“Stand up!” I yelled as loudly as I could.

He jumped up, pushing with his legs and arms simultaneously like I taught him.

Then he was surfing. Holy f**k he was surfing!

“Woohoo! Hell yeah!” I shouted.

A wave was coming up my a*s so I paddled like hell and just barely caught it, carrying me toward George. He stood in the knee deep water beaming.

“That was awesome,” I shouted as I dropped to the sand next to him.

We slapped hands and I pulled him in for a bro hug. I was proud of the dude.

“I’ve never felt that excited in my life. That was amazing. I thought I was going to throw up when the wave caught me. It was just like you said. Like someone shoved a rocket up my a*s. I wanna do it again.”

I grinned and nodded toward the vast sea.

“Let’s do it.”

* * * *

George finally went back to his bride an hour later than he was supposed to. We had to wait for another perfect wave, which took a little longer than it should have. After his one amazing ride, he kept dropping off the waves. He took a few hits, but he was thirsty for more. So we waited.

He left with a smile and a few hundred bucks less in his wallet. I didn’t mind the extra tip he gave me. He was a fun guy to spend the day with.

As the sun started to sink into the ocean, I cooked some dinner and sat on my lanai, staring at the water. I still hadn’t wrapped my mind around Ada being back. Or the facts that she was at the volcano for weeks and still had her boyfriend. None of it made sense, especially when she all but said she was done with me.

It didn’t matter, though. She wasn’t mine and never would be.

I finished my beer and glanced over at my board. The foam was probably dry, but I didn’t want to take any chances on it. I could wait another day before I started slicing away chunks to create the perfect shape.

My house was quiet when I went inside. The quiet never bothered me, but I always had my sister. Kiki spent the night with me more often than not before Sawyer moved in. When she asked if she could let her new photographer live with me for a little while, I never imagined he’d become the one man who was more important to her than I was.

I didn’t resent that, not even a little, but I missed my sister sometimes. Hell, I missed Sawyer, too. He was a great guy. Good for Kiki. He brought her back from a place I hadn’t even realized she’d gone. He was there for her when I couldn’t be, in ways I couldn’t be. And he loved her.

He was a lucky son of a b***h.

They were both lucky.

Nah, that wasn’t even true. They deserved it. They deserved each other. I was the son of a b***h who didn’t deserve a relationship. Or happiness. Or love. That was the biggest one.