“Yeah, but…” Keoni said with a shrug.
The song ended, and the audience clapped.
“Thank you,” Ryla said into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have for your pleasure—the fabulous Keoni Makai.” She waved at Keoni again, smiling broadly.
“Not today, Ryla,” Keoni said loud enough to be heard over the audience.
“Come on, Keoni,” Ryla said. “Don’t be shy.”
“I’m busy,” he said, taking Lou’s elbow and pulling her closer. “See?”
“Ah,” said Ryla. “Next time, then?”
“Yeah,” he said, waving goodbye.
Keoni tugged Lou’s elbow, leading her away from the band.
“Did she want you to sing?” Lou asked.
“Something li’dat,” he said.
“But you didn’t want to?”
“Nah,” Keoni said.
“I hope it wasn’t because of me,” Lou said. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Nah, it’s not that.” Keoni raised an eyebrow and gestured to his face.
“Oh.” Lou looked at him, taking in the cut on his forehead, the bruise on his eye, and the split lip.
The bruises lent him an air of mystery, and she wondered how he’d gotten them. A man pressed into Lou from behind, nearly knocking her down. Keoni’s hand tightened at her elbow, his fingers warm against her bare skin.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” Lou said. “It’s very busy today,” she said, glancing around the crowded airport.
“It’s always li’dis,” Keoni said.
He sounded more disappointed than disapproving. Lou imagined how she would feel if Seattle was bombarded by hundreds of thousands of tourists every year.
“You must hate all this,” she said.
“I’m used to it, but…” he said with a shrug. “That don’t mean I gotta like it.”
“How’d you get roped into coming to the airport to get us?” Lou asked.
“I didn’t have anything better to do,” he said.
Lou laughed. “That’s too bad for you,” she said. “I’m sure there are plenty of other things you’d rather be doing than playing chauffeur to a couple of tourists.”
“Nah,” he said.
Lou doubted it. “Are you from here?” she asked.
“I’m from Maui.”
“Maui?” Lou said, trying to pronounce it with the same lilt as Keoni. “Sounds beautiful,” she said.