One Drop of Golden Sun

Ch. 12 Ohana Means No One Has to Put on Their Own Burn Cream

*Lokela

Lokela, along with the guys, was in the middle of a late pasta lunch when he heard Ray's light step coming down the stairs. He swallowed and acted as if he hadn't noticed, until there was a universal gasp in the kitchen.

Ray was under the arched opening, entire front half of her body bright red and her arms held out from her body, hands dangling.

"Guys, my armpits got sunburned and I can't move and I really need someone to put some cream on me."

There was silence for exactly two seconds as everyone, Miller, Felipe, Doug, Casey, Travis, Trevor, and Lokela himself mentally processed what that meant.

Then each guy started explaining loudly why he, in fact was the best choice to rub cream in her pits. Or in case of Miller, why he wasn't going to do it, but wanted to know who would, and Lokela who kept his head down He scowled into his pasta, guilt twisting in his stomach. She was so red. She was in pain.

Doug stood up and waved a hand for silence. "All right. Anyone else have any nursing experience or has babysat five nieces and nephews besides me?"

Trevor leaned back in his seat, his naked chest conspicuous in a sea of faded tee's and flowered Hawaiian shirts. "I've had a dozen girlfriends with sunburns, I think that makes me more qualified than anyone else in this sorry group, but the real question is, how did you get burned on your underarms?"

"I fell asleep with my arms up, covering my eyes. After my surfing lesson with Lokela, I was wiped out. Is that a pun in Hawaii?"

Seven guys turned slowly to face him. Miller scoffed. "You let her fall asleep on the beach?"

"It wasn't his fault, I take full responsibility for my own fatigue," Ray said. "He had to get in his jog with Zach. Those great physiques don't maintain themselves, you know. And Zach has a great physique. In case none of you noticed."

"What kind of instructor are you? You left her on the beach to go jogging?" Miller asked Lokela.

Lokela shoved his plate back and stood, making his chair screech on the linoleum. "She said she would get up and leave in a minute. I'm not her keeper. She's an adult."

The group glanced as one at Ray again, still in her bikini, sari knotted at her waist. Her chest and underarms glowed bright pink up to a line at her neck where the towel had protected her head.

"It's true. I know it might not seem like it, but I'll be twenty in a couple of months. And now that's cleared up, who among you is taking care of my chest and pits so I can put my arms down?"

"Not me," Miller said. "As your manager, I'm not touching you."

Doug circled the table. "I will. I'm the only one here who..." his voice trailed off.

"The only one who is," Ray said, lifting an eyebrow in encouragement. Lokela thought back to the conversation he had eavesdropped on between her and Doug.

"Because I know how to take care of people," Doug said firmly.

"I think we should arm wrestle for it," Trevor said. He flexed to prove his point.

"I think we should discuss this a moment," Casey said. "Perhaps you should see a doctor instead. Do we have the right pharmaceuticals in the house to treat burns?"

"She isn't blistering and this doesn't look too dark. Does it hurt?" Doug asked.

"You'd think I'd drop my arms if it didn't hurt, yeah?"

"Whatever happens, I'm not liable for personal injuries," Felipe said. "But if you want me to rub your chest, I can—"

Miller smacked his arm with a loud whack. "That's my employee you are talking to. You don't get to rub her chest."