Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(100)
Kona had taken Keira to Michael’s tattoo shop, first thing Christmas Eve morning, with his fingers tapping against the steering wheel and a suspicious, wide smile making his face look ridiculous.
“Why am I up at ten a.m. on a Wednesday morning when there’s no classes?” When he’d only shrugged, grin splitting wider, she pinched his thigh.
“Ow, you little brat.”
“What are you up to?”
Kona had been up to her Christmas present. He’d stood in front of Michael’s workspace, hands slapping together as Leann’s boyfriend finished up the line drawing, but he wouldn’t let Keira see, wouldn’t let her anywhere near them for the half hour it took Michael to ink those letters into his skin. Finally, the work all done, and Kona’s smile had reached Joker levels, he nodded her over as Michael shot the soapy mixture of liquid onto Kona’s left pec. Ku`u Lei arched onto his skin and as Keira squinted to look at it, he grabbed her hand.
“It means ‘my beloved.’ That’s you, Wildcat.” Then Keira’s smile matched her boyfriend’s and Michael rolled his eyes, mumbling something about stupid tattoos as he walked away from them. He’d picked it because of the book, she was sure, because it was Morrison’s work that brought them to where they’d been that day. That book had been the catalyst, the true meaning behind what Keira wanted, what she thought Kona could never give her.
Ten minutes after Michael babbled on about cleaning and care, Keira had set her mind and she didn’t listen to Kona’s protest when she told her cousin’s boyfriend what she wanted.
“A hibiscus on the center of your back?” Keira didn’t let Michael’s frown detract her. She ignored his attempts at changing his mind.
“Keira, you don’t have to.” Kona had frowned, but she saw the humor in his eyes; the pleased way he stared at her.
She wanted the flower, something that reminded her of Kona’s home, of the ridiculous petals he tore apart and scattered on her bed, wanted it right on the center of her back because that’s where Kona best liked to kiss her. The flower was beautiful—five orange and red petals highlighted in yellow, and deep green leaves all set in front of beautiful black and hooked swirls of filigree. Keira knew her mother would hate it. She thought it was perfect.
Kona’s fingers tightened in her hair when Keira’s mouth lowered over his nipple and she knew he wanted her to stop. She knew he didn’t want to boost the already high tension in that house. It was an understatement to say her mother had not been pleased when Kona stopped by unexpectedly and she grew overly rude when Keira led Kona to her bedroom, telling Keira she wouldn’t let her “Carry on like a slut” in her house. It was Steven, though, that had stunned them all with his small rebuke against his wife’s cruelty.
“The girl is almost nineteen, Cora. There isn’t much you can keep her from doing now. Stop being so rigid.” Her stepfather’s words had been slurred, a bit clipped and that had set off World War Three. Her mother’s shrieking reply to her husband began accompanied by the cruel, drunken come backs Steven seemed eager to level at his wife. Keira could still hear the shouts growing louder downstairs.
She pulled back, jumping from her bed when she heard her mother pounding up the stairs. “Keira?” Three quick knocks on the door, which Keira had locked, and then the door rattled. “Keira answer me.”
A quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Kona’s shirt was fastened and Keira opened the door an inch. “What, Mother?”
The woman moved her head around Keira’s arm, eyes squinting before she caught Kona standing in front of the French doors, hands in his pockets. “How long is he staying?” Then, before Keira could answer, she spoke again, voice louder. “This is highly inappropriate. You know that Mark wanted to see you. You know that his parents are having a party tonight and…”
“Mother, just stop.” She leaned against the door staring down into her mother’s red-rimmed eyes, shook her head at the way the woman’s pupils dilated. “Mark and I went out on one date. He’s my friend and he’s moved on to, um, other things. He and I aren’t happening so put it out of your mind.”
“I will not have you and that… that boy up here doing God knows what. Not in my house, Keira.”
“Will you kindly shut the hell up, Cora?” Steven’s voice carried from downstairs and Keira looked down at her feet, trying not to laugh, when her mother’s eyes grew cold, when she straightened her shoulders at her husband’s loud shout.
“You know what?” She told her mother, standing up straight. “Why don’t you worry about your own crumbling relationship and leave mine alone?” The telltale scowl crossed her mother’s face, that heavy anger she always wore anytime Keira defied her and Keira sighed, tired of the scare tactic. She saw the quick circle of her fist, knowing the woman itched to smack her, but Kona behind her in her room was like an electric current, shooting nerve, searing strength into her. She wouldn’t let her mother do that again, especially not in front of her boyfriend. “What? You wanna slap me around some more? Go ahead. Try it.”
Her mother’s shoulders grew tighter, straighter when Kona came to stand behind her, when the huge linebacker opened the door wider and pushed Keira behind him. “I don’t think she wants to do that, Wildcat. Do you, Mrs. Michaels?”