Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(17)

Keira slapped the dirt from her backpack, ignoring Kona’s words. “And you didn’t have to follow me.”

“It’s a good thing I did. You couldn’t have handled that shit.”

She wouldn’t let him be the hero. At least, not more than he’d already had been. Keira knew her face was flaming, knew that her embarrassment at needing a rescue was something Kona wouldn’t understand. She was tired already, from the long night in the library, from the shock of her attack, and could only manage a quick, self-deprecating nod in Kona’s direction before she turned around, intending to head straight to her dorm room. But two steps seemed one too many and Keira flinched, her back seizing up.

Kona darted behind her, holding her arms under his larger fingers. “What is it? You hurt?”

“Probably just a bruise. It’s nothing.”

Kona disregarded Keira’s half-hearted attempts to pull out of his touch when he grabbed her elbow. “Come on, we’re taking you to the infirmary.”

“No, we aren’t,” she said, twisting her slim arm out of his grip. She looked over her shoulder to check it there was any blood on her shirt and again the pain rose up, making her wince. Kona pulled her along the sidewalk, that strong hand on her arm again and she stopped walking, stepping away from him. They’d only spent an hour or so together tonight, but Keira knew already that he was stubborn. Shoulders slumping, she tried to convince him she’d had enough rescuing for the night. “It was just a bump against the busted drain. There’s not even any blood.”

“You don’t know for sure.”

“You’re being paranoid.” Kona’s eyes narrowed and those deep dimples in his cheeks faded. She knew brushing him off wouldn’t work, so she tried making him see reason. “Think about it… you take me to the infirmary and they’ll ask questions. I kind of figured you don’t want anyone on your team or your coaches to know you choked some skinny punk.”

Kona bit the inside of his cheek and rested his hands at his hips, gaze moving to street drain that had caused Keira’s injury. Finally, as though he’d finished whatever asinine examination moved through his thoughts, Kona looked back at her. “Fine, let’s go to your room so I can check it out.”

“What?” He was crazy. There was no way she was going to let him into her room. She could manage on her own. She’d wait until Leann was back, but one glance at the determined set of Kona’s mouth and that high arching eyebrow told Keira he wouldn’t go for that either. “You’re not coming into my room.” She thought her voice was strong, but when she said “my room” the words came out high-pitched and cracked, destroying any meager attempts to sound firm.

Kona acted as though Keira hadn’t said anything. He just took her arm and led her toward her building, his grip easy, but still steady. “If I wanted in your room, believe me, I could get in. Besides, you won’t be able to check for yourself.”

“I can.” She tried twisting away from him again, but not only did it cause sharp twinges in her back, his grip was like a vice on her elbow.

“You double jointed or something?” For the first time since Kona had nearly choked that kid, the frown left his face, replaced by what Keira could only guess was a wistful grin of hope.

“I can get one of the girls to help me.”

“Keira, I watched you.” He stopped them just before they reached the bottom steps of her building, but did not release her arm. “You don’t even look up when you’re walking down the sidewalk. You don’t smile and acknowledge anybody. The only person I’ve ever seen you with is that Leann girl in class. I highly doubt you’re cool with the girls in your dorm. Stop being pigheaded and let’s check this out.”





Kona had been in many dorm rooms. CPU girls didn’t have a problem letting him hang out, in fact, they encouraged it. There had been that redhead from Spencer who practically sat on his lap when he told her he had to leave and the blonde from Easton that invited him over at two a.m. Her opening the door completely naked had been something akin to the warmest welcome he’d ever gotten.

To him, going into a girl’s dorm usually only meant one thing; the thing he loved most. The thing that most twenty-year-old guys loved most. But Kona wasn’t in Keira’s dorm for that. He’d like to be, maybe, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

In all those slipping-in-for-a-little-hey-now times he’d been to the girls’ dorm-side of campus, he’d never once bothered to give more than a passing glance at how they lived. Most times, he barely took note of the color of their walls or the fluffy pillows and the feel of their sheets.

“Give me a second,” Keira said, waving him in before she threw her bag onto her bed and headed to the bathroom. Keira didn’t have fluffy pillows and her bed was made up like a soldier’s, corners tight, and a simple white comforter with small blue pillows lined against the headboard.

The room was divided with Keira’s bed on the right and her roommate’s on the left. The difference between the two was enormous. Where Keira’s side was uniformed, bordering on obsessively organized, her roommate’s was chaos. Shoes on the left side of the room where thrown haphazardly under the bed and discarded shirts, skirts and bras littered the unmade bed. Keira’s shoes were neatly stacked on a white shoe rack next to her desk and a dark wood dresser was next to the door with only a small silver box and two framed pictures on top of it.