When it’s time to pay, the barback hands Timmy the bill with an exaggerated wink in my direction.
Timmy’s smile falters as he sees the total. “Fifty-eight dollars for a cider?” he mutters.
“Oh, I put her caesar salad and two cocktails on there as well. Is that an issue?” She grins unapologetically.
Timmy shifts in his seat, clearly flustered. “Oh, uh… okay…”
I feel a twinge of guilt. “I can get it,” I offer. “I wasn’t expecting you to pay for my meal or the drinks I had before you got here.”
“No, no,” he says, taking a deep breath, collecting himself. “But you’re getting the next one.”
My stomach flutters at the idea of a second date. Despite the awkwardness, there’s something endearing about his determination to push past it. He isn’t trying to impress me with flashy spending—just genuine kindness.
I feel a tension, like this might be all the money he has in his account or something. But he’s told me he’s working, and he’s even called me from his job. So I know he has one. Renovating condos can't pay too badly. And when he’s not doing that, he’s detailingvehicles. Says he gets several hundred dollars for a couple of hours of work. Maybe it’s the day before payday. I don’t want to come off as judgmental.
“So,” he asks, leaning in. “What do you want to do now?”
“I mean, I’m getting kind of tired again,” I admit, though the buzz from the cocktails has given me a third wind. “But we could go somewhere else for a bit.”
I could stay up for another couple of hours if the conversation remains this good.
He smiles knowingly. “Let’s go for a walk,” he says. “Come. There’s this place I know that has a killer view—and pool tables, if you’re up for a game.”
“Well, that sounds fun,” I reply, smiling back.
He takes my hand, and I feel an unexpected rush of comfort. His hand is large, warm and strong. And it’s not just the touch—it’s the way he holds mine, like he’s already decided he’ll look out for me.
We step into the elevator, and we ride it down to street level, where the salty breeze wraps around us. He guides me down the street, the ocean breeze ruffling his T-shirt, and I feel like I’ve found my own sexy surfer tour guide—someone who knows Sunset Cay like the back of his hand. As we walk, he points out little nooks and hidden spots. Some of his stories are a little crazy, but hey, it’s nice to be with someone so carefree. So in tune with nature and the island. I laugh, charmed by his buoyant story-telling.
We walk through a few of the larger resort hotels, and he shows me a place with pool tables and shuffleboard as well as a koi pond. On the way, he plucks a plumeria from a nearby tree, spinning it in his fingers, and tucks it behind my ear.
I smile at him. Nobody has ever put a flower behind my ear before, or at least not since I was a kid.
“Beautiful,” he says, appreciating his work. “Just like you.”
I beam, feeling warmth bloom in my chest. Nobody else has ever done something so sweet, so simple and genuine, for me, not like this.
“Oh shit,” he says, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I made you a lei, too. As a welcome gift. But I left it in the fridge. Butthis looks really pretty with your gorgeous hair. And I’ll bring the lei to you another time.” He pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of the lei, fashioned out of twisted ti leaves. I’ve never seen one like this.
How cute and thoughtful! Nobody has ever made me anything like a lei before. In fact, I don’t think a guy I’ve been seeing has ever made me… well, anything.
Maybe dinner, sure, but nothing creative or arty.
But Timmy seems different. Full of surprises. And he keeps making me laugh. There’s something about his sense of humor that’s cheeky and a little dark, which matches well with mine.
I laugh. “Okay, I’ll imagine that you brought the lei. Thank you, it’s beautiful. It’s the thought that counts.”
He grins at me. “You’re so welcome. Next time, I promise.”
We wander through more resort hotels, past koi ponds where fat, colorful fish glide lazily through the water, and over wooden bridges strung with soft, glowing lights. The night feels alive—full of possibilities.
He hands me his drink bottle. “Want some? It’s tequila mixed with an energy drink.”
My favorite–well, the tequila part, anyway. I smile and take a sip, wondering if I mentioned it to him before, or if it’s just another uncanny thing we have in common.
The pool tables are occupied, so we head out and he takes me to a bar on the main strip. We order mojitos, and then he leads me outside where we can see people wandering around on the street below. I love people-watching, and I love this particular beach. This feels like heaven. We talk about nothing and everything, just relaxing in each other’s company. I feel utterly content.
He leans in close, his sun-kissed arm pressed against mine. He grows quiet for a moment, and his fingers trace a slow, deliberate path along my forearm.