Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(116)



The woman is petite with a tiny waist and luscious, wide hips that has Kona biting his bottom lip. Simone, his girlfriend of two years, had left him, moved back to California the month before and Kona has been busy with the options his managers keep feeding his way. He hasn’t had time to put much effort in dates or women. But the woman not fifty feet from him reminds Kona just how long that month has been.

There is something there; something in the way the woman shakes her head, the way she moves her hands when she speaks to her friend standing at her side, that reminds Kona of the past; of the things he left behind all those years ago. He doesn’t know why those gestures, that silhouette gives him pause or what about the woman has his hands shaking, but he steps closer, needing a clearer look, needing to answer the question he hasn’t asked himself. Her profile is strong, it always had been and when she turns, looks over her shoulder, Kona stops wondering, stops guessing about things that are familiar and forgets how to breathe.

It has to be the light in the Market. The low yellow bulbs above him, the graying skies or his wild imagination. That can’t be Keira. He had just read about her mother’s death which sent him straight back to memory lane, recollecting each moment of their past and holding those minutes close to his chest.

Something catches her notice, that has her smiling broadly, that has her moving her chin as she waits for a greeting and Kona hangs back, steps behind the kiosk and watches Keira and Leann laughing at whoever approaches.

It is her. She is just feet from him after nearly two decades. Instinctively, he touches his chest, just over his heart. It’s where his tattoo is… the one he got for her. They’d been inked together and even though they’d left things badly and years and distance had separated them, he’d never been able to remove the tattoo. She’s always been his beloved.

Sixteen years later and she looks the same. She is still elegant, radiant; her legs strong, toned, her waist has expanded but Kona is certain he could fit his fingers around it easily. God, she is still so beautiful; large, blue doe eyes, smooth, lineless skin. Time had taken away the soft curves from her hips, the slight bulges that seemed delicious to him as a twenty-year-old are enhanced, heighten with her growth.

All those years searching. All the time and effort wasted on tracking her down and she stands feet from him; a ghost coming back to capture his clear thought.

He’d looked for her. A year after he returned to CPU when his anger had vanished; when his grief stung him less, but no one would tell him where Keira had gone. Leann wouldn’t even look at him then; her mother had slammed the door in his face and after a while, Kona reminded himself that he had done that damage to himself. After a while, he stopped searching every crowd, stopped hoping fate would have them meeting again.

But he’d heard the rumors. He’d hired professionals. She left the city after his arrest, had settled in Nashville, worked two jobs until she caught a break. She’d made it without him. She wrote songs that were full of angst and fire, a few that cut a little too close to home for him, but he was proud of his Wildcat, happy that she’d followed her dreams. He could have called. He could have approached, Kona is a coward where Keira is concerned and the words, he knows, would never come. He just didn’t know what to say to her.

Seeing her now, knowing that she is here, feet from him, has that tremble in Kona’s hand worsening and he instantly wants to touch her. He wants to taste her again. He manages a step, but just one before she seems to sense him, to feel the crackle of energy, of eager sensation that they’d always shared. She has to know he is close, that he is drawing her in. How could he not? She’d been his first love. Sometimes he thinks, his only real love.

The smile on her face dims somewhat as her eyes move all around the Market, to Kona’s left, above his head until finally their eyes met. For a moment, time is held captive by the tug of her stare, by the primal desire he feels to move toward her, to touch her, just to see if she moves the same; if she makes the same noises when he runs his hands down her body.

In the clamor of the Market and the stricken heat that flows between them, he touches on those fresh memories, the ones he’d pulled from his mind just this morning and instantly it comes back; how beautiful she was when she sang; the low, soft rasp of her voice when she was sleepy; the arcs and dips of her back, her hips when they moved together.

God. He still wants her. Has he ever stopped wanting her?

Her expression is open; shocked, and he wonders if she has the same quick flash of recollection, if all that they had been is coming back to her as it is to him in the gravid moment that they stare at each other.

He offers her a smile hoping that by now she has forgiven him. It has been a long, long time, but she had a temper, always held a grudge. He hopes she has stopped hating him.

Tentatively, her shocked expression changes and a small shake moves her mouth. He thinks it will be a smile, something sentimental, something he can commit to memory in case they never see each other after this moment. But then, her eyes fly to the left, to a kid jogging toward her and then her almost smile turns quickly to horror.

“Mom!” he hears the kid call and Kona feels an instant wave of disappointment settle in his chest. She’s married? Had she completely forgotten him and made a life with someone else? His eyes follow the kid; a boy around sixteen. He towers over her and Keira has to stretch her neck to meet his eyes. Back to Kona, the boy speaks to Keira, moves his hands, but she does not seem to hear him. Keira’s gaze has already returned to Kona and the look of fear darkens the slight shadows under her eyes.

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