1. Kai

ONE

I'd like to think that I've got determination,

and I'm fiercely protective of the people I love.

~ Andrew Lincoln

"And now it's my honor and pleasure to welcome the two people we're all here to support and cheer for, our island's own: Kalaine Kapule and Bodhi Merrick. Give it up for these two!"

From his spot on the stage, Cameron gestures his hand toward our table as my sister and my best friend stand, scooting their chairs out and locking eyes with one another before Bodhi puts his hand on my sister's back to escort her onto the platform.

We're seated at tables covered in white tablecloths. Twinkle lights sway overhead on strings between palm trees. Candles and tiki torches reflect in a soft glow over the surface of the pools around the edge of this back patio at Alicante Resort.

The crowd claps politely, and Ben, my employee at the watersports shack here at the resort, places his fingers in his mouth and whistles long and hard. Then, from his spot across the table from me, he shouts, "Let's hear it for the it couple of surfing!"

Our table erupts into laughter. I can't help but crack a smile.

Ben's outburst serves as a catalyst, and the crowd shifts from behavior matching our formal attire to howls and shouts far more fitting the true beach-surf community camouflaged beneath our tuxedos and gowns.

Bodhi takes the mic from Cameron. His hand remains on Kalaine's back. He catches my sister's eyes again and they share a private smile—one I've had to get used to over the years they've been dating, and especially now that they are engaged with a wedding mere months away.

"Thank you!" Bodhi shouts, which draws another wave of cheers from the crowd. "We're so grateful all of you came out tonight. It's pretty crazy seeing my best friend in anything but board shorts and a pair of flip-flops, unless he's going in for his weekly business meeting in the main building. So, for that alone, I thank you."

The crowd rewards Bodhi with a collective laugh. He smiles his trademark winsome smile in return. A few people at my table and the surrounding seats glance over at me in acknowledgment, so I spread my arms out to show off the fact that, yes, I'm wearing a tux.

"Mavs—Kalaine—and I will always hold Marbella close to our heart. This island is the place we made our way back to one another, and to surfing. So, as we go out, sponsored by Rip Curl and Roxy—I have to say that, so there you have it. If any of our sponsors are watching the live feed … check."

The crowd laughs again. I suppress an eye roll. We've all been sponsored. When I was competing as a pro-surfer, I did the dance too. Bodhi and Kalaine are so big now, companies drool over the opportunity to have their names attached to these two. Still, there's the puppetry you have to engage in, letting sponsors pull the strings while you perform. We all have a love-hate relationship with the companies who help fund our passion and profession. I'm mostly glad to be out from under that pressure. Mostly.

"Anyway," Bodhi continues. "We've got a big trip ahead. We're going to Hawaii, and, yes, I'll be surfing Jaws. We both will. And then we're off to Nazare in Portugal to ride with some of the best. You can catch it all on ESPN and follow along on our YouTube channel for behind the scenes goofiness and a touch of reality."

My sister beams up at Bodhi while he speaks, her eyes never leaving him. As hard as it has been watching her re-enter their relationship, and then re-enter pro surfing, the bigger piece of me swells with pride and happiness. She's always going to be my baby sister. And that means I'll always watch out for her.

After a rundown of their itinerary, Bodhi hands the mic over to Kalaine, or Kala, as I usually call her.

A warm smile fills Kalaine's face. "Thank you all for being here. We're so grateful for your support. It's been good to be home between trips. Good to hang out with friends at C-Side, to surf the local break, to even give a few lessons. And to get back to being just me, you know? The girl who wakes up with wild hair, a dog in her bed, and no sense of direction until I've had my first cup of coffee."

The patio fills with soft laughter. It's a different flavor of response than the one Bodhi draws out with his charisma and strength. I feel my smile. It's one that won't easily recede. I'm tempted to shout, "That's my sister!" But I savor the moment privately instead, watching her take life by the horns and grab up all she deserves and more. I wish my parents could be here to share this send off. They're watching the live stream from their home in Hawaii, but it's not the same.

"And it's been sweet to get to spend time with Mila and Noah at Mila's place. Just sitting at the desk answering calls and making reservations."

Mila.

You know the feeling you get when you first taste hot cocoa, or bite into a warm pastry? That warmth and comfort? The flavors bursting on your tongue and drawing your attention to the sweetness of what's right in front of you? That sensation when your feet go from sand into the cool froth of the sea? The instant you step outside on a foggy morning and the fresh air hits your lungs, reminding you you're truly alive? For just the briefest moment, I feel all of that at the mere sound of Mila's name.

We're old friends. Well, I've only been on the island less than four years, but she was one of the first people I met—one of the first to make me consider the fact that Marbella could be my home, not just in location, but in a much deeper sense of the word. Mila has always made me feel like we've known one another forever. She's got this heart of hospitality that goes with her wherever she is, making everyone around her feel welcome and at ease.

My sister's been talking and my mind unintentionally wandered. I rein in my focus on what she's saying.

"... and don't get me wrong. I love my life as a pro surfer. It's like nothing else. My passion. My calling. Something I can't seem to pull myself away from, even if I wanted to—which, I don't. But I'm so glad to have Marbella as a place to call home, I can come here and just be me, not Kalaine Kapule, world-class surfer, but just Kala …" Kalaine's eyes find mine in the crowd and she sends me a smile. "Sister to Kai. Or Mavs, as my fiancé calls me." She looks up at Bodhi and he leans in and kisses her temple. "Just another girl living on this island with all of you."

Someone claps. Ben shouts out, "We love you, Kalaine!" in his typical, very over-the-top way. His enthusiasm starts everyone clapping and hooting.

Kalaine blushes and grins, and then she hands the mic back to Bodhi.

He smiles at her and then at the crowd. "As you know, we're raising funds for The Shaka Foundation, helping animals in crisis. So, feel free to dig deep and support the charity of our choice—the charity my future wife started a few months ago that has already helped over a thousand animals in need. You're all aware how much rescuing animals means to us. It's a cause close to our hearts."

A photo of the mutt who now lives with me full time fills the screen behind Kala and Bodhi. He's cute, I'll admit. And, now he's mostly mine since these two adopted him and then promptly rejoined the surf community, putting them off-island at least six months out of every year.

A few people in the crowd audibly sigh and a chorus of, "awww" goes up when Kalaine tells the story of how she and Bodhi snuck around to adopt Shaka. Snuck around me, to be clear.

When Kala and Bodhi wrap up their plea for financial donations to their charitable organization, Cameron jumps back on stage. "Thank you, Kalaine and Bodhi. We're looking forward to virtually following you on this next adventure. And I'm sure we're all going to help support The Shaka Foundation after that compelling story."

Cameron smiles one of his guest-services smiles. It's not the one he lets fly free around a bonfire. It's a curated smile, one that says he's here for you and whatever it is you might need from him.

"Drink up. Grab some of the desserts on the back buffet table, and be sure to stop by and chat with Kalaine and Bodhi before you leave. Thank you all for coming out."

Cameron places the mic back on its stand. The band to the side of the platform begins to play as Kala and Bodhi make their way back to our table.

A few hours later, the three of us sit around our living room. Suitcases and duffles line the wall next to the front door. Two surfboards in travel bags lean in the corner. Kalaine's on the couch next to Bodhi, and I'm in one of the side chairs. The dog, Shaka, is on Kala's lap. But he promptly jumps off and heads toward me for no apparent reason.

"He loves you!" Kala nearly coos.

"Yep. I'm a loveable guy," I deadpan.

The dog looks up at me with eyes that are meant to make me cave.

"Don't look at me like that," I tell him.

Bodhi and Kala crack up. The dog stands on his hind legs and places both paws on my knees. He locks eyes with me and tilts his head like he's trying to figure me out. That just draws more laughter out of my sister and my best friend.

"What do you think you want?" I stare back at the white and tan mutt as if he's actually going to answer me.

"He wants you," Kala says with the same voice she uses whenever she's trying to get her way with me.

"He's got me. I'll feed and water him while you're gone. And I'll let him poop in my yard, and I'll even pick that mess up for him."

My doggie babysitter to-do list sends my sister and Bodhi into a fit of laughter for some unknown reason.

"Oh my gosh!" Kala breathes out between cackles. "You'll water him? Like a houseplant?"

I shoot her a look.

"What about petting him? What about him sleeping with you?"

"No. The dog shouldn't even be in a bed. He's a dog."

"Kaaaaiii …"

Kala draws out my name on the kind of whine that should make me irritated, but she knows it only makes me want to do whatever it takes to make her happy. It's not fair. Where she's concerned, I have buttons, and she knows just how to push them.

"I'll pet him. A couple times a day, even. But it's a big no to my bed. No one shares my bed. The end."

"Maybe that should change one day, huh, bro?" Bodhi unhelpfully suggests.

"Maybe you should get some sleep. You've got a long flight and big competitions lined up. You two need rest and fluids."

"Okay, Dad," Bodhi teases.

Kala just smiles up at him.

The dog hasn't given up. He's still got his paws on my legs. I shift so his paws hit the floor and then I stand. "Let's go kill some more grass, mutt." I head toward the back door to let the dog out to do his business. He's not even mine, but I've gotten into the habit of being the one to let him out at night since I'm the one who's here the most.

"Stop calling him that!" Kala laughs through her words. "You know you love him."

"If by love, you mean tolerate, I'm smitten. Fully head-over-heels."

I hear my sister tell Bodhi, "He loves him."

"Yeah. He does," Bodhi agrees.

Traitors. Dog-abandoning traitors. I chuckle to myself as the door falls shut behind me and the cool night air fills my lungs.

"Bruh!" Ben shouts from the back door of the watersports shack. "Did you see me catch that perfect left?"

"You're dripping water all over the floor." I raise an eyebrow at Ben, and he backs out the door, standing on the deck and smiling like a man without a care in the world.

Drops of water still roll off his hair, chest, and the wetsuit dangling at his hips after the surf session he and I had this morning. Only I called it early, paddled in, went home, showered, fed that dog who lives in my house, and came back here to open the shop, while Ben continued to catch some of the best waves we've had all season.

Kalaine and Bodhi left yesterday, and my house already feels strangely empty in the wake of their absence.

"But did you see the wave?" Ben's grin splits his face.

"Before I paddled in?"

"Yeah. It was my best wave yet since I moved to Marbella."

"I think I saw the one." I smile back at him.

"Dude. This is the life."

I nod. He's not wrong. We surf, teach watersports, live on a beautiful island with an exclusive resort as our backdrop. And when we want time off, we cover for one another because the employees out here may as well be family. This is the life. Somehow, I can't quite muster the enthusiasm Ben seems to easily tap into. He's the geyser on top of a natural spring of effervescent optimism. And I love him for it.

I'm more of a still waters run deep guy. No ripples. No waves. Steady, calm, reliable. I bat away the next word floating through my head: boring.

Kai, you are boring.

When did I become boring? I'm an ex pro surfer, a Hawaiian, a watersports instructor on an island most people would dream of calling home. I'm not boring.

I'm … reliable, consistent, steady …

Yeah. I think I might be boring.

"How'd everything go with Bodhi and Kalaine?"

Ben's question snaps me out of my self-flagellating spiral.

"Fine. Good. They left early. I borrowed a golf cart and hauled them and their luggage to the ferry before dawn yesterday."

"And now what?"

"They head to Hawaii. They're staying with my parents. One contest on Oahu. Then they surf Jaws. I think it's a little over a week on the islands and then they fly to Portugal for another week. Then they'll be back here."

"Yeah. Not them. I got all that when I talked to Bodhi. Now what for you, boss man?"

For me?

I just shrug.

"Dog sitting. Surf lessons. Enjoying some peace and quiet."

Ben shakes his head like I'm pathetic.

I lived that life—pro surfing with Bodhi and my sister. I actually made the circuit before the two of them. Eventually, we lived that life together, competing, traveling, training. Now I keep the home fires burning while they're off living the dream. I don't mind solitude. Sometimes I prefer it, actually.

Ben walks out to the outdoor shower to rinse off. When he's back and changed into his shorts and T-shirt, he approaches the counter where I'm sitting on a stool behind the cash register.

"You know what you need?"

"No. But I'm sure you're about to tell me."

He smirks. "You're lacking in female companionship, bro. It's as simple as that. You should just ask a girl out."

He looks at me and then his gaze shifts to a shelf of graphic surf T-shirts behind me. He walks over and starts re-folding the top few that were left askew by customers yesterday.

"Who?"

I shouldn't ask. Why am I asking Ben? I don't need to encourage him butting in on my love life—or lack of love life.

"Does it really matter? Just ask a girl out. Like, someone who works at Alicante. Or … Clarissa."

"Clarissa? As in C-Side Coffee Clarissa?"

"Yeah? Why? What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing. She's great. I like her a lot. Only, I think she could be old enough to have been my babysitter when we were younger."

"But you no longer need a sitter." Ben chuckles. "You're older now. Age is just a number after a while. Isn't that what they say?"

"A number that might mean I need to date someone who is less than ten years older than me."

"Okay. Fine. What about … Mila?"

He says the name so randomly—like he casually picked it out of a hat, like her name is just one among many.

There's nothing random or casual about Mila. And she's not someone I'm ever going to date. Between her job running her bed and breakfast on the North Shore, and her devotion to her son, Noah, she's off limits. We're friends. Good friends. But just friends. That's all we'll ever be. And I'm fine with that. A man could do way worse than having a friend like Mila.

Ben's facial expression says he's questioning the sanity of my acceptance of my place in her friend zone. Mila's beautiful. Actually, that word really doesn't begin to capture her. She's got chestnut brown hair that shimmers and falls down her back in soft waves. It's a color that would make you expect to gaze into warm brown eyes. But she's full of surprises. Mila's eyes are a stark contrast to her hair: a crystalline blue, nearly translucent, a lake in the tundra, rimmed in turquoise. Not cold, though. Nothing about Mila is cold. Her eyes are the thermal Blue Lagoon in Iceland, a place of warmth when everything around is stark and frigid. And there's so much more to her than her effortless beauty. She's bright, funny, and caring—the kind of woman a man might have overlooked in his twenties, but notices far more than he ought to in his thirties.

"Earth to Kai." Ben chuckles softly, as if he caught me withholding a secret.

"Yeah. No. Not Mila. She isn't … that's not an option."

"I think she's definitely an option."

"Well, she's not."

"Okay, not Mila." Ben's ability to roll with the punches and remain buoyant should be bottled and mass marketed. "How about a night at Club Descanso? We could just go out dancing. Summer and me … you. We could grab Cam and Riley …"

And I could be the thirty-three-year-old fifth wheel.

"Just dancing with friends, and maybe a dance or two with someone attractive," Ben persists. "What do you say, Kai?"

I hear the word "Yes" come out of my mouth as if I'm not even the one saying it. Apparently, Ben's charm and capacity for persuasion doesn't end with his wife, Summer. If I'm honest, I could use a night out with friends, even if those friends will couple up, leaving me looking like a bicycle with only one tire.

"Great! I'll text Summer. We'll pull something together for tonight or tomorrow."

And just like that, it looks like I'm going out dancing.