Page 98 of Gin and Lava

“Oh right,” I flip the sheet out over the bed violently, moving away from him to tuck in the corners. “Because getting my heart broken hasnothingto do with these angry, pissed off feelings.”

“That’s love, Naomi.”

“Waslove,” I correct, tossing a pillow to the top of the bed.

“You wouldn’t be this passionate if you didn’t still care about me, too.” Sam points to my flustered state. “I know you. You act out when you want something. You rebel.”

“And Mason’s my rebellion?”

“Obviously.”

“And that somehow proves I’m still in love with you?” I fluff the final pillow and toss it next to the first. “You’re so self-centered.”

“It’s not about proving anything, Naomi.” Sam picks up the final blanket and lays it out on the mattress. “Just look inside. You know what you feel, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

My jaw clenches. How did the tables turn so quickly? He was jealous a few moments ago, and now he’s doling out judgment? Yes, all of my mixed-up emotions are playing racket ball inside my ribs: anger, passion, frustration, fear. And yes, there’s still tenderness and desire and yearning mixed up in all of that. Of course, I have emotions related to him. But that isn’t love. You can’t love someone who puts your heart in a blender and hits shred.

“What exactly would you doifI admitted I had feeling for you? Huh?” I step away from him, walking toward the screen door that leads out to the beach.

He’s prodding me to admit something, but what would he do with that information? Why would it matter? Is he trying to get me to break things off with Mason? Why? So he can feel noble and righteous? All hail Sam, who saved Naomi from the foul-mouthed-tiki-bar-owning horror.

It’s not like Sam wants me back.

“What would you do, Sam?” I ask again, opening the screen door and stepping onto the path that leads to the shore. “Play it out. I tell you I have feelings. I break things off with Mason. Then what? You throw my heart away again?”

I stare at him through the screen, but the morning light blots out his face, the light obscuring my view and turning him into a shadow.

“I’d never throw your heart away again,” he says softly.

I can’t see his face, but his voice is clear as a bell.

My heart seizes like I’ve been slapped.

That’s a lie. He doesn’t mean it. He’s jealous. I’m engaged to someone else, and he’s lashing out, grasping for straws. I didn’t fall at his feet like he expected and beg him for a second chance, and he can’t stand it.

But my heart isn’t rational.

And my lungs are so tight, I’m not breathing again.

“I’m engaged, Sam.”

I’m not sure how I managed to say it, but it’s all I have.

I walk away from him and head for the ocean, despite my traitor of a heart that asks me to go back … talk this out with him … let him apologize.

But I have to be more careful with my heart this time. I refuse to fall hard and fast, and walk like a fool back into his arms. I’m a Viking Princess now, and if he wants my heart, he has to fight for it.

28

MASON

Eggplant emoji swim trunks are a brilliant idea.

The other night at the restaurant, Shauri and her friends got the toned-down version of Mason. But today, we will be snorkeling in the ocean with colorful fish, and as the owner of a bar with neon-everything, I need to be just as vibrant.

Naomi’s friends are putting on snorkeling gear when I arrive at the beach, and Naomi bursts out laughing at the sight of my giant purple eggplants. Her amused smile is bright enough to light up all of Oahu in a typhoon, and it sends a jolt of warmth through my chest. Who would’ve bet that this girl would find me and my raunchy wardrobe amusing?

Now, Naomi’s wardrobe (or lack thereof) is a whole other issue. She looks positively sinful in a glittery bikini that threatens to make my lower regions swell as large as the eggplants that cover it.

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