The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

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‘Iwa

‘Iwa had had exactly two real boyfriends in her life. One Hawaiian and one Californian, both surfers. Her first, Kaiwi, she’d been friends with since fifteen, until one night on the beach he’d kissed her and that was that. They’d been inseparable until the summer after graduation, when he went on a two-month surf trip to Tahiti and decided he was going to move there, alone. Kaiwi was responsible for the first layer of protection built up on her cardiac rift zones.

And then there was Zach. Magnetic, vagabond, going nowhere Zach. They’d met at the start of her junior year at UH Mānoa. ‘Iwa and a small group of students had gone out to eat after planting koa trees above Waimea Valley, and he’d been their waiter at Cholos. Before ‘Iwa left, he managed to get her phone number and a date lined up. His smooth-talking demeanor should have set off warning bells, but she had been taken in by his aqua eyes and his easy charm.

On weekends, she would drive out to stay with him in a termite-infested A-frame steps away from Rocky Point. ‘Iwa would comb the beach for shells, which she would then catalog as part of her marine biology class at the University of Hawai’i. In the afternoons, she was happy strumming her guitar under an old kamani tree while Zach surfed for the third or fourth time. When the waves were small enough for ‘Iwa, they would paddle out together.

She loved him in that all-consuming way of young love. Never mind that their futures looked drastically different on paper. Two years later, after a month or so of a nagging feeling tapping her on the shoulder, she found another girl’s number on a Cholos napkin in the pocket of his shorts.

When confronted, Zach admitted he’d met someone else. He loved ‘Iwa, he swore, but he was young and not ready for something so serious. She cried so hard her nose bled. That was when she swore off surfers. Swore off men entirely for a while and focused on school and figuring out what she wanted to do with her life. And then Lily got sick and everything else faded into oblivion. If losing Zach had scorched her and gutted her, losing her mother had burned her to the ground.

Back on Maui, Lily held her hand and told her, “Sweet pea, the right one will come along when he’s meant to. And when he does, you will know it in your bones. Until then, get busy doing everything in this world that you love.”

‘Iwa retreated to the wilds of Maui, and came to see that the moon never lied and the trees could be trusted, and that the ocean and the wind were her friends—men were never so steady or loyal.

Now, as they moved through the woods, the first inkling she got of the waterfall was a fine mist filling the air and a coolness on her skin. ‘Iwa opened and closed her mouth to take in the particles. As a kid, when they’d drive up to the top of Haleakalā, she believed that if you inhaled enough clouds, you could float away. Turned out her thinking wasn’t entirely off base.

“Are you familiar with negative ions?” she asked.

He had to crouch a little to avoid brushing his head on the ferns. “What about them?”

“Their effect on the human body.”

“You really have to ask? They’re little euphoria generators, and are probably partly to blame for my big wave riding affliction. A big wave is a factory for fractured molecules and negative ions. They’re probably why you love your waterfall so much, too.”

Affliction was probably a good way to put it. As was euphoria. “If you have a wave affliction, I definitely have a waterfall affliction,” she said.

“There are worse afflictions to have.”

A moment later, they came out of the trees onto a flat, grassy area. A wide wall of water cascaded into the pool below it. Dane went stone still. Even ‘Iwa was taken aback. Waikula was at her finest, with liquid sunlight coming down the face of the cliff and exploding in a pool of gold. She stole a look at his face, his cheeks sun-blotched, eyes wide.

“This can’t be real.” He stepped closer and set his pack down on a rock. “Why is it that color?”

“There is a rare kind of algae, native not just to Hawai’i, but to this valley, this stream, this waterfall,” she said.

Found nowhere else in the world. By some miracle, only some of the older Hawaiians, a handful of outdoorsy kama‘āina, and a small community of science nerds knew of its existence. Depending on the time of year, precipitation levels and humidity, the water color ranged from ochre to straight-up gold. Mix in a few sunbeams, and you would swear the banks were lined in precious metal.

“Is it safe to swim in?” he asked.

She pulled the ti leaf out. “Perfectly safe, as long as the ti leaf floats.”

Even though they were at elevation, the sun bore down. Dane, slick with perspiration, literally glistened. ‘Iwa had never seen a person glisten before, and thought it only happened in those romance books her mother used to fly through.

He caught her staring, and his mouth turned up on one side. “Anything else I should know? Like, will you save me if the mo’o drags me under?”

“I would never interfere with the mo’o .”

“Not even for me?”

Firmly she said, “Not even for you.”

‘Iwa stepped out of her pants and slid her top over her head, so she was just in her bikini. That shut him up fast. She felt his eyes take a slow tour of her body, and he made no move to hide that he liked what he saw. She handed him the leaf, which was as long as her arm and lime green.

“Tell me,” he said, taking hold of the stem. “Do you think humans give off negative ions?”

Her fingers were still gripping one end of the leaf, and he held the other end, pulling it slowly closer.

“Probably?”

Being this close to him made it hard to think. Somewhere tucked away in her brain, she knew the answer. Human beings ran on electric currents. Negatively charged cells allowed ions to flow through their membranes. Dane was a human, thus the answer was a resounding yes .

“Theoretically, we could be exchanging negative ions as we speak, couldn’t we?” Dane said, his voice slightly changed—deeper.

A drop of sweat trickled down her spine, snapping her back to the falls.

“Theoretically, yes.”

She let go of the leaf and walked to the edge of the pond, to a smooth, flat stone, warm from the sun. Dane followed and held the leaf over the water.

“So I just drop it in?” he asked.

She nodded. A lot of people thought these Hawaiian legends were just superstitions, but the way ‘Iwa saw it, they were about being humble and understanding your place. The forces of nature were vast and many, and little prayers to God or the universe or the plants themselves, depending on your system of beliefs, never hurt. Dane dropped the ti leaf into the water and they watched it slowly make its way to the center of the pond, where it promptly sank.

“Great.” He held up his hands. “Now what?”

‘Iwa shivered, unsure how to proceed. The ti leaves always floated.

“To be honest, this has never happened to me before.”

“That waterfall has my name carved into the rocks above it, can’t you see? It would be torture not to get in,” he said.

‘Iwa eyed the pond, looking for any signs of unusual currents. There were none, just the usual rush below the falls, and where the water flowed through the rocks on its way downstream.

“Ask permission and be extra careful. You should be fine,” she said, wanting him to swim probably as much as he did. “And no jumping from the rocks for you today.”

Dane bent down, touched the water and crossed himself, then said, “Please go easy on me, Waikula. I will tread lightly, always.”

Tread lightly. Her mother’s favorite words.

‘Iwa jumped in. The cold water stole the air from her lungs and numbed her skin. She swam hard toward the falls to warm up, imagining Dane would probably try to beat her there. But when she turned around, he was nowhere to be seen.

‘Iwa rolled onto her back and kicked, scanning the outlying trees. “Dane?” she called.

No answer. When she made it to the falls, she slid onto a submerged rock and let the water pound down on her shoulders and back. She waited and waited, while thoughts of the sinking ti leaf left her slightly uneasy.

“Dane!” she yelled, louder this time.

Another minute passed, and she decided to go back and look for him. He had been right there on the rock behind her, about to get in. She even thought she’d heard a light splash. About ten feet into her swim back, something wrapped around her ankles and pulled her under. She spun around in a moment of panic, reaching to free herself. Then beside her, an explosion erupted out of the water, as Dane sucked in a long breath of air.

‘Iwa swatted at him, annoyed. “Not funny. At all.”

He smiled ear to ear. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Did you think the lizard got me?”

“I thought maybe you dove and hit a rock. Or went around and planned on jumping from above, which I told you is off-limits for you today.”

“I would never disobey you—haven’t you figured that out by now?”

She rolled her eyes. “But really, how do you hold your breath so long?”

“Practice. Every single day.”

‘Iwa swam back. Dane followed close and they sat under the falling water for a while, then it was ‘Iwa’s turn to disappear behind the falls. It didn’t take Dane long to find her. She was covered in goose bumps but hardly noticed. They stood side by side, leaning against the cool rocks, looking out through watery ropes of gold. Shoulders and hips touching, his hand resting soft as a fern on the front of her thigh.

Outside of the falls, they swam to the far side of the pond, where long, table-like rocks beckoned their warmth. ‘Iwa walked through the decaying plant mush of the shallows and climbed out onto one. Dane continued on to the edge, where she’d pointed out a bush of ‘ākala berries. With heat from the river rock beneath her, and the winter afternoon sun above, ‘Iwa lost her chill within minutes. She lay there, head to the side, watching Dane pick berries.

He turned, saw her watching him, and slid a bloodred berry into his mouth. He chewed slowly, as though savoring the sweet tartness, all the while not taking his eyes off ‘Iwa. Between her legs, a thick burning started up. This was not supposed to be happening, but she couldn’t do anything to stop it. Once he’d gathered a handful of berries, he slid into the water, shattering its glassy surface. She watched him wade toward her, as if watching a movie, and her skin warmed another eleven degrees.

Without a word, he came back out of the water and lifted himself onto the rock, sitting next to her where she lay, and put a berry into her mouth. ‘ākala were her favorite—Hawaiian raspberry. The water that dripped from his arm onto her chest sizzled, or at least it felt like it did.

She no longer trusted her senses.

As soon as she swallowed, he gave her another. Dane was backlit by the sun, and she squinted to see his eyes, his slightly pointed nose, full mouth. He shook his head, raining down pond water and cooling her off, then undid her completely with another lopsided smile.

“Best thing ever,” he said, all hoarse and whispery.

He placed a finger in the notch between her collarbones, and ran it down her sternum, leaving a trail of sparks. Slow as molasses, his finger hopped over her bikini top string and continued on down her abdomen, where he then set an ‘ākala berry just below her belly button. Still, he watched her, and she watched him. On some level, ‘Iwa knew this had been coming, that the attraction between them made it inevitable, and yet she hadn’t expected it. Not like this. Her body was on fire, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

She took the berry from her belly and held it up to his lips. He bit down just enough to keep it in his teeth, then lowered his face to hers and offered it. She took it gently, with her lips, having forgotten where they were. The outside world reduced to a pinprick. Dane waited patiently, an inch or two away, then kissed her, light as a cloud. So light, she wasn’t sure their lips actually touched. His whole hand went to the spot where the berry had been moments ago, and sent a current of electricity through her, pinning her to the rock.

His mouth scraped against her cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he whispered in her ear.

She managed to say something that sounded like a strangled “Yes.”

Please.

This time he kissed her with the force of a hurricane. A massive wave. A waterfall. She took it all, breathless. Her hand slid over his and pressed it hard into her skin. It was weird, they were skin against skin, and yet she couldn’t seem to get him close enough.

The kiss tasted of mountain water and sweet ‘ākala, with notes of chocolate, and she did not want it to end.

Ever.

“Tell me something,” he said, pulling away for a moment and winding a lock of her wet hair around his finger.

“What?”

“How did you get to be so beautiful?”

‘Iwa laughed. “Oh, I don’t know—”

Before she could continue, he covered her mouth with his. Soft lips, lazy tongue, in no rush whatsoever. The rock was hard beneath her back, but she could have been lying on a bed of urchins and she wouldn’t have cared. With his finger still twined in her hair, he moved from her mouth to the angle of her jaw, dusting her with kisses and hot breath.

She was acutely aware of his tongue as it reached the edge of her bikini top, and she shivered—not from the cold. Dane stayed within bounds, though, and then made his way along her collarbone and back up to her lips. After what felt like an hour, but may have been just minutes, he rolled away and onto his back.

“Ahhh, I can’t feel my elbow,” he groaned, sitting up and pulling her with him with one hand as he shook out the other.

She gave him a sly smile. “That’s what you get for tormenting me.”

“You call that tormenting? Just wait.”

From the looks of it, he would have preferred to rip her suit off then.

She was dizzy with longing.

Smooth as an eel, Dane slid back into the water so he was standing thigh deep. Now they were eye level. She moved to the edge and he leaned into her, parting her legs naturally. They wrapped around him. He was as warm as the rock, and just as hard.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “You’re killing me,” he said.

“I’m already dead,” she said.

Not a peep from that voice of reason that usually lived in the back of her mind. No slow down or maybe it’s time to put the brakes on . Or this is all wrong .

They started kissing again. With one hand on her hip, he slipped a finger beneath the upper edge of her bikini bottoms and slid it one millimeter at a time across her skin, lighting her up like lava. ‘Iwa melded into the rock. Maybe this was how those women in the legends were turned to stone. Misbehaving with the gods. At that moment, she would have gladly been immortalized in this position.

Dane’s hands moved up her back now, fingers untying her top and pulling it over her head. It fell into her lap and she felt the wet strings on her thigh, searing into her skin. Neither could be bothered to tuck it someplace safely. Somewhere nearby a bird called, as a gust of wind blew down the valley, clattering branches and bending shadows.

A finger made broad circles on her white skin, slowly closing in on her nipples. Then his face moved down her neck and his tongue flicked flames as he took one in his mouth. There was a gentleness to his touch, but also a hard-edged need. ‘Iwa felt it, too. Like if they weren’t both completely naked soon, she would spontaneously combust.

He laid her back and searched deep into her eyes. “This is the part where you tell me to stop.”

She just looked at him, mute.

“Because if you don’t...”

His voice trailed off. ‘Iwa had waited too long to be with a man, she realized, and now her body was making decisions for her. The only words she could think of were ravage me , but they remained unspoken, so she placed a finger over his lips.

Off to the side, a strange buzzing started up. Faint at first, but growing louder. It sounded like a motor and ‘Iwa thought it might be a helicopter with exceptionally bad timing. But the sound was all wrong, and closer. She turned her head in time to see an off-road vehicle pull right to the edge of the pond. Dane was faster than she was and threw her top back over her head, stepping between her and the Polaris to block her from view.

“This can’t be happening,” she said, bolting upright.

Two men climbed out. They could have been military, beefy with short-cropped hair and pale skin, wearing camouflage pants and tight black T-shirts.

Stone-faced, one called, “How’d you two get up here?”

“We walked,” ‘Iwa said simply.

“This is private property.”

Anger flashed white-hot through her veins. “We came up the other side, on the public trail. The waterfall is not private property,” she said.

He was partly right, though. In Hawai’i, landowners often owned to the middle of a stream and according to county records, this was the case here, too. An absurd notion. Streams, as oceans, should belong only to the land, the fish, the birds, the sky.

The taller one, wearing a holster, walked closer to where Dane had been picking berries. “We’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

‘Iwa took Dane’s hand and swam him back to the middle of the pond. “Who do you even think you are?” she said, ordering herself to keep calm.

“We work for the landowner. And I’ll repeat, you’re trespassing.”

“Tell your boss to go screw himself. He may own to the middle, but this side is public. You have no right to tell us to leave. In fact I should be telling you to leave. You don’t belong here,” she said.

Her entire body filled with venom.

He folded his dense arms and stood with his legs apart. She recognized it as some kind of bully stance. “Don’t make us escort you out of here,” he said.

Dane jumped in. “We don’t want any trouble. And you may want to check your facts, because she knows what she’s talking about.”

“These guys have no clue,” ‘Iwa murmured.

“They have guns.”

She would die before getting escorted out of the valley by these two kooks. “Why don’t you just shoot us? For swimming in the place I’ve been swimming in since I was a kid.”

Dane flinched.

The guy lurking in the back stepped up and said something to Stone Face. There was a short exchange, then he told them, “You two get dressed and go back the way you came, and we won’t press it. But you need to leave now.”

‘Iwa and Dane were now on the far side of the stream, and she turned her back to the men and climbed out. “They can’t make us go.”

Dane’s lips on her skin felt like a distant memory.

“Are you sure about the property line?” Dane asked.

“One hundred and ten percent. It’s public record.”

‘Iwa lifted her water bottle and took a long drink, then sat down with her legs dangling in the water, startling several small fish. Dane sat, too. She started humming “Sweet Child O’ Mine” and saw a smile forming in his eyes.

The guys glared at them from across the pool, but made no move to enter the water. They probably didn’t know how to swim, she thought. The spell had been broken, though, and being here with these two idiots made her heart bleed. One started talking into a radio, and then they got back in the Polaris.

“Oh good, they’re leaving,” she said.

But they didn’t.

She and Dane sat there for a while longer, as a rainbow formed in the waterfall spray. He made no move to go anywhere, and she got the feeling he would sit here with her all night if he had to. It was lovely and magical and painful. But Dane had a plane to catch, she knew, and there was no point in outlasting these two dingdongs, nothing to gain. They were just enforcers, paid thugs.

“This isn’t over,” she said, as she stood up and got dressed. “Not by a long shot.”

It was a quiet hike back to the truck. ‘Iwa could think of nothing but the encounter. Not Dane leaving. Not whether she would ever see him again. The only thought occupying her mind was that these outsiders had violated one of her most sacred places. And the worst part was, they probably couldn’t even pronounce its name.

Waikula.

When she pulled up at the Mizunos’ to drop him off, he did not open the door, just sat there for a few breaths, then said, “When can I see you again?”

‘Iwa looked out at the billowing shower tree, lit by the setting sun. “You and I can never happen, Dane.”

The words seared her throat and tasted bitter on her tongue. But they needed to be said.

“Seems to me like we’re already happening,” Dane said, voice weirdly high.

“I like you, and we had a good time while you were here—and definitely got a little carried away, but you’re a surfer and you’re from the mainland. Both of those are deal breakers for me.”

“Can you at least look me in the eye and say that?”

Her gaze danced around, to the gear shift, the floor, anywhere but his face. “I have too much going on right now, and long-distance relationships don’t work. There are a million reasons why you should just go and forget about me.”

“That would never happen.”

“When that next big swell rolls in, I’ll be a distant memory. That’s how it works,” she said.

“You’re making a big generalization, ‘Iwa. I am not the men in your past.”

Her foot started tapping on the floorboard. “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

“Is it so wrong to want to see you again?” he asked.

She finally turned to him, a dangerous move, she knew—because sitting there, with his golden skin and windblown hair—replete with token twig fragments—he looked more handsome than any man had a right to.

“How about this. If in two weeks you still want to see me, you can send me one text message,” she offered.

“Just one?”

“Just one.”

Dane had to laugh. “So you’re saying there’s a chance.”

A tiny smile broke. “Not really. I’m just trying to get you out of my truck.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, dusting her with a leafy, spring water scent, then was gone before she could change her mind.