Lover Boys Forever (20 page)

“
Nothing you did, Donovan. I just want to move on. And we will be friends as long as you want a jerk like me for a friend.”

He laughed, a familiar and easy sound that actually caused a little wrench on my heart
-strings. I felt tears coming, and I hadn’t cried about something for years.

“
Thanks, Donovan. I’ll talk to you again before I come back.”

“
No worries. Have a good vacation.”

I did cry. It was sprinkling lightly outside my hotel window
, and I stood on the balcony in the darkness and smelled the exotic fragrances of island flowers and the salt air while allowing my emotions to empty out of me.

San Francisco seemed a trillion miles away. But Donovan seemed close, and I couldn
’t help grieving over the end of what had been between us. I couldn’t help feeling like I’d done something wrong too. Had I hurt him with my decision? Probably. Yet I had to admit he wouldn’t let it bother him all that much. That hurt me, through no fault of his.

If he
’d cried, like I was now, and begged me to reconsider, what would I have done? I honestly couldn’t say. I realized that night, in that exotic paradise, that I had a lot to think about.

Kyle
’s knock on my door woke me the next morning. I’d slept in!

I was still half
-asleep and rushed to let him in without bothering to dress. It was only after he came in and his eyes dropped to my crotch, I realized I had a morning boner still rearing its blunt head between us.

“
Now that’s a truly friendly, and big, Hawaiian welcome. Good morning to you, too.”

“
Damn! Sorry, Kyle. I’ll get dressed. As you can see, I slept in. I’ll be ready soon. Do we have time for breakfast somewhere?”

“
Of course. Take your time. It’s your vacation. And I’m getting a free porn show anyway. Nice butt, by the way.”

I flushed bright pink and laughed self
-consciously as I rummaged around for underwear and a pair of shorts. Still, I couldn’t help being pleased at his comment. And speculate about his intentions. Did he have the hots for me? Like I did for him?

He was the first to allude to anything sexual, I thought afterwards, but in the context of me opening the door to him butt
-naked, it could have been entirely innocent – and considerate. Meant to put me at ease, perhaps rather than hint at any inclinations on his part.

He had a car
, and we drove to Hanalei Town in the valley of the same name.

“
We’re going to the last sugar plantation on the island. Once the government raised the minimum wage that spelled the end of sugarcane as an industry on the islands. The volcanic soil is very fertile though, and there are plenty of other crops still grown in the valley. Mainly taro, but also coffee, guava, mango, papaya, banana, kava, avocado, pineapple and star fruit.”

“
And macadamia nuts,” I chimed in cheerfully. I’d already discovered a bountiful supply of the delicious nuts in the hotel lobby for sale and had been gorging on them while we drove.

The historic plantation was a more interesting visit than I
’d have expected, mostly due to Kyle’s vast knowledge of everything Hawaiian. He sprinkled his history with modern bits of info I couldn’t help finding fascinating.

“
Ranching has replaced sugarcane in many areas. And what’s a ranch without horses? Are you up for a ride?”

This was his first surprise of the day. I hesitated before tossing caution to the wind and agreeing.
“I’ve only ridden a horse twice, and both times the horse got the better of me,” I admitted.

“
I love it. An honest man for once. We’ll make sure you get an obedient nag.”

What was a holiday without new adventures? The horseback ride was totally unexpected and with Kyle
’s soothing manner to make it more than bearable, I had an amazing time.

The nag was gentle and accommodating. The trail was easy to negotiate
, and the scenery spectacular. We passed by verdant fields of taro and pineapple, banana plantations, and open grasslands where cattle grazed before climbing to a lush tropical forest and then halting at a rocky outpoint where we could gaze out to sea.

Looking out from a cliff at an endless sea of sparkling blue, and a sky of utter softness in another hue of blue, I felt breathless against the power of all that vast space. I turned to see Kyle watching me. His crooked smile was as beautiful as the stunning view.

“You have a choice for tonight, Scott. After we get back from our ride, I can drive you to your hotel in Waimea Town or you can come with me to a luau here in Hanalei.”

I hadn
’t fled San Francisco and flown halfway across the Pacific to spend my time doing the typical tourist stuff. I imagined a luau inhabited by plump vacationing Americans and camera-wielding Japanese with Hula dancers and an enormous stuffed pig roasting on the fire pit. But then I’d expected a sugarcane plantation to offer similarly mundane entertainment, and Kyle had made sure it hadn’t.

I trusted him.
“Luau. I’m hungry as heck anyway.”

He laughed out loud.
“You seem to be always hungry. How many pounds of macadamia nuts have you shoveled in so far today? And I’ve seen you gobble down three bananas and two whole mangos on top of that. It’s a wonder you maintain such a fit physique. All that muscle needs fuel, I imagine.”

I was thrilled that he
’d noticed – my muscles, not that I was a hog. I’d always been a big eater but never been overweight. All the walking I’ve always done along with disciplined weight training seemed to keep off the pounds.

The luau that evening tested even my ability to sock it away. What a feast! And it was totally not what I expected. First of all, Kyle informed me we
’d have to do some grocery shopping. “It’s a potluck. We don’t have the time to do any cooking, so fruit will have to do.”

Did tourists bring their own food to a luau? I hadn
’t heard that. There was more I hadn’t heard, it seemed. The quiet road we drove down just outside of Hanalei Town abruptly ended in a wall of tropical forest. A house, with wood siding and a sprawling porch, was set amidst the thick palms and ferns. At least a dozen cars and trucks were parked along the side of the road, and with no other residence nearby, it appeared they were all here for the luau.

“
Hey Mom! I’ve brought Scott along.”

A diminutive woman turned away from the small group she was chatting with just inside the front door. She smiled brightly as she came forward to clasp my hand in both her small ones. The resemblance between mother and son was apparent. Her long hair was thick and wavy and exactly the same shade of sandy
-brown as her son’s. Her eyes were golden and her smile just a little crooked. They even had the same slim nose.

“
Aloha, Scott. Is Kyle treating you right? If he isn’t, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m the boss, after all.”

“
She’s not kidding,” Kyle said as he pulled me away and further into the chaos of the busy house.

I had to ask.
“You work for your mother?”

“
My parents own the travel business. But my mother rules the roost, definitely. I take care of the gay clients.”

“
So you think I’m gay?” I joked.

“
Uh, you hired me through Gaytravel.com. Besides, I’ve noticed the way you keep checking out my fat butt.”

“
Your butt isn’t fat!”

We both laughed at my blurted effort at defense. Then, we were swallowed up in the festivities already in full swing. The back yard was where the luau itself took place, a wide expanse of green lawn with a fire pit boasting an enormous spitted pig garlanded with pineapple.

The crowd was a surprising mix. Even more surprising was the fact they were mostly Kyle’s relatives. Some were even native Hawaiians. He explained the mystery.

“
Luaus traditionally celebrate a wedding, or as in this case the first birthday of a child. It’s my cousin’s daughter’s first birthday. Her husband will be glad to see he’s not the only haole in attendance when he meets you.”

I still didn
’t understand. I knew that haole was the Hawaiian term for white people.

“
But aren’t you a haole? And your mother? Your father?”

“
Well, it’s a matter of perspective,” he said with a laugh.

He explained. On his mother
’s side, his grandmother was half-Hawaiian and half Portuguese. Her father, who had passed away, was a Swede. On his father’s side, his grandfather was half Chinese and half Portuguese. His grandmother was Portuguese.

“
The Portuguese, who came here in droves early on, worked with the Chinese in the fields, and some of them intermarried. Like my great-grandparents. And the Portuguese definitely do not consider themselves haole.”

I had known Kyle
’s last name was Lee, but hadn’t really connected that it was a Chinese name. I looked more closely at him in an effort to ferret out what ethnic features he’d inherited, and he grinned and winked as if he understood what I was doing.

He was so tan, I hadn
’t thought perhaps his skin was naturally a little darker than mine. And his eyes, now that I looked, were a little slanted, just a little. His thick brown hair was streaked lighter by hours in the sun, but probably would have been darker otherwise. Apparently, he was mostly Portuguese, and he looked it.

His relatives were a different matter. Hawaiians and Portuguese and a great
-grandfather that walked with a cane and was without a doubt Chinese, it was quite a boisterous mix that seemed well-accustomed to one another. I was flattered that Kyle had asked me to join them.

We ate, and we ate, and we ate some more. There was even entertainment. A half dozen musicians, all relatives, played in shifts. I would never have chosen to listen to that type of music at home when I was relaxing, a lot of falsetto singing and the twanging uk
ulele, but that night I found it entrancing.

“
Hawaiians didn’t only invent surfing. They invented the steel guitar, too,” Kyle informed me when his uncle stepped up to strum us a tune. His voice, deep and melodious, reminded me a little of Kyle’s gentler conversational version.

And there was even a hula dancer. Kyle
’s cousin, the mother of the little girl whose birthday party it was, decked herself out in a grass skirt and a crown of flowers, then offered us an absolutely magical performance.

Her brown body, she was more Hawaiian than Portuguese, was voluptuous and smooth and her gently undulating movements and fluttering hands captivating. She smiled throughout, completely at ease as her family watched on.

“She dances for the tourists every weekend,” Kyle whispered to me.

I had a few drinks, something I only do on occasion, and was feeling slightly tipsy when Kyle asked if I
’d had enough. “It’s getting late, and we have another early day tomorrow. More hiking! I don’t mind driving if you want to return to your hotel in Waimea. I haven’t had anything to drink. But we can stay here if you like.”

“
Here? Where?”

He grinned at me.
“Not only do I work for my parents, I also live with them.”

“
Uh, so we’ll be sleeping in your bedroom? Sign me up,” I blurted out.

“
Come on then. I have my own bungalow out back.”

He led me down a jungle
-lined trail to the small one-room bungalow he called home. “We have another three of these. My parents offer bed and breakfast to some of our clients.”

The room was tidy but crowded. To my utter disappointment, two beds sat side
-by-side along one wall. A small kitchen area and seating area lined the other wall, and a bathroom jutted off to one side. He made sure I knew where everything was in the bathroom, including a spare toothbrush, before he climbed into his own bed. I got a quick glance at his nearly naked body before he slipped under the covers. My hard-on hadn’t subsided by the time I cleaned up and found myself standing beside the other bed.

The light from the single lamp still glowing would have betrayed me if Kyle hadn
’t reached over and turned it off. “Good night. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

“
Thanks for the great day, Kyle. It was amazing.”

He murmured a quiet reply I didn
’t quite catch as I stripped down to my own underwear and got into bed. With a stiff cock aching at my crotch, I was certain I wouldn’t be getting to sleep any time soon. I was wrong.

Content to be exactly where I was, in Kyle
’s bedroom with him asleep only a few feet away, I passed out. Bright sunshine and his bright smile woke me the next morning.

Already showered, he was ready for the day.
“We’ll grab some breakfast before we go. Dad’s a great cook.”

His father was a great cook. Quiet and unassuming, he was the opposite of Kyle
’s mother. Taller than Kyle by a bit, he was very handsome and very hard-working. He had a formidable list of objectives tacked to a wall board beside the fridge. “Two new clients coming in on Saturday. Can you pick them up at the airport?”