Page 98 of Hawaii Can Suck It

Golden lanterns glow low and warm, casting everything in soft, flickering light. There’s a massive plush mattress draped in white fluffy blankets that looks more sex cloud than bed.

“That is a lot of… supplies. Are those edible body paints?”

Her eyes scan over a tray of glistening glass bottles filled with oils, neatly arranged water bottles, and—

A pile—no, a fuckingmountainof condoms.

Her uncomfortable expression cuts through my competitive haze.What the hell am I doing?I should stop this. Call it off before—

“Okay guys, well, there’s a lot of interesting, questionable things in here. Maybe I should dare Reece to—Whoa!”

I track her gaze upward. The tent’s top is wide open, revealing a starry night sky. The Milky Way sprawls across the darkness like a trail of spilled diamonds. Each brilliant pinprick of light feels as though you could reach out and touch it.

Cam moves first, lying down on the fluffy mattress. I lie beside her, hyper-aware of every inch where our bodies connect. My fingers move on their own, drawn to her hand like a magnet. Just a brush. Testing. She doesn’t instantly pull away, so I loop my pinky with hers. It’s barely anything—the world’s most G-rated hand-holding—but my heart’s beating wildly.

I notice a few comments so I flip the phone camera to give the audience a better view of the sky:

SOMEBODY CALL NASA CUZ THIS IS OUT OF THIS WORLD.

THIS IS SO ROMANTIC I’M DYING.

THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER THO!!!

WAIT, ARE THOSE RHINOS F@C#ING ON HIS SHIRT???

The waves crash outside in a steady rhythm. Our pinkies are locked like a grade school promise, and I’m frozen. Because moving might break whatever cosmic spell is happening here.

And then—

“YES! YES! RIDE ME, YOU STALLION!”

What can only be described as a whale having an orgasm erupts from next door.

“HARDER, DADDY! SPLIT ME LIKE A COCONUT!”

Cam loses it first, dissolving into giggles and breaking our contact. The sound is so genuine, so unguarded, that I can’t help but join her.

I turn the camera, framing us lying side by side. Her flower has gone slightly crooked, one strand of hair falling across her cheek. The urge to brush it away is so strong my fingers actually twitch.

“Guess our tent neighbors are having a different reaction to the view,” I say loudly over the enthusiastic moans.

She snorts then covers her mouth. It shouldn’t be so cute, but it freaking is. “Let’s go back to the game. Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

The word is a lit fuse between us. I know what she’s going to ask. About the kiss that broke the internet. About why I ran after the hottest, sexiest encounter of my life. The love potion burns in my veins, but something else burns hotter—the need to finally stop being a goddamn coward.

“¡Ay, Dios mío! Your shorts!” Cam bursts into hysterical laughter, pointing at my crotch.

I glance down and—fuck. My “Welcome to the Lu-WOW” shorts are now competing with the actual tent we’re sitting in. The hibiscus arrow isn’t just pointing anymore—it’s saluting. Standing at full attention resembling a soldier who spotted his commanding officer.

“Son of a—” I snatch up the nearest pillow.

Cam wheezes, trying—and failing—to get a word out.

And the chat? Full-blown hysteria:

REECE DRANK THE BONER JUICE, I REPEAT, HE DRANK THE BONER JUICE.

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