Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(21)

Kona frowned, shifted his eyes to his hands and then back at Keira’s face. “God?”

She nodded, offering him a quick smile. “When you’re talking about the Legends, then yes. So we have a system of Legends that cover pretty much the gambit of morality; lying, stealing, cheating, killing and the consequences of all those things. You can pretty much use any story as an example and relate it back to the Legends.”

Kona didn’t miss a beat. “Die Hard.” His smile wavered and he looked around the room, Keira guessed to make sure no one was listening. “I watched those movies with my tutu kane.” When Keira squinted, confused, Kona clarified, his voice dropping an octave. “My grandfather. He’s the only dad Luka and I ever really had and we’d all sit around watching those movies as kids on summer breaks when Mom was off doing research shit.” Kona looked over Keira’s head, at her chin, but not in her eyes as though giving Keira that small bit of information had surprised him.

Keira smiled and she liked Kona, just then, with his voice soft, with his eyes relaxed when he spoke about his grandfather. Typical, though, that he’d choose a ‘splosion’ film, that’s what she’d always called those gun-tottin’ ass kicking movies Leann loved to make her sit through. She wasn’t surprised that one of them was the first example Kona chose. “Okay. Well, Bruce Willis is a cop trying to get his wife away from terrorists.” When Kona only stared at her, seeming a bit more interested than he had a few minutes before, she continued. “He’s Arthur, on a quest. He’s searching for someone, like Arthur searched for the grail and along the way he has obstacles to overcome. Same as Bruce. The way the Legends unfold are what Joseph Campbell called ‘The Hero’s Journey.’ For the most part, every book, comic or movie is a hero’s journey.”

“Joseph Who?”

Keira tried not to sigh too loudly. They were getting along and she had to admit she didn’t hate his company as much as she thought she would. But damn, this guy was lazy as hell. “Kona, have you read anything this semester? It’s on our syllabus.” She pointed at the syllabus sticking out of his binder.

Kona took a quick glance down at his binder and then returned his attention to Keira. “I have ADD, Keira. It’s a little hard for me to focus on the material.” He shrugged, brushing off the revelation.

She nodded, offering Kona a grin that he seemed to like, telling her with his eyes that he was grateful that she didn’t pry.

“Campbell had a theory, several, actually, but his Hero Theory is classic, though he was a bit of a pig.” When Kona frowned at her, curious, she smiled. “He thought only men could be heroes.”

“Bullshit. I mean, hello, Sarah Conner?” he said, smile widening with Keira’s laugh. “You’d make a good teacher. You got the bossy, know-it-all tone perfected.” She punched his shoulder and his laughter rang in her ears.

“Music,” she said, not certain why she felt comfortable admitting that to him.

“What?”

Keira shrugged, tried to hide her quick blush by not looking him, returning her attention to the keyboard. “I don’t want to be a teacher. I want to write music.” The blush was there not because she was embarrassed to admit what she really wanted out of life, but because she was admitting it to him.

“Seriously?” Kona pulled on her sleeve to make her look at him. “But you’ve got a hard on for all this English shit.’

“I also have a mother who pays my tuition that doesn’t think music is a suitable major. But, I like words. I like stories, just not as much as music.” Another quick glance at him and Keira felt that blush deepening. But Kona didn’t laugh at her like she expected. He didn’t start to tease her for having a pipe dream. And so she felt relaxed, something that had been happening more and more frequently when she was around him. “Words and music, that’s my passion.” She laughed to herself when his smile got bigger, when he looked at her as though she’d just unveiled another piece in the puzzle he thought she was. Kona’s eyes were intense, moved over her face, landed on her mouth and Keira became uncomfortable, nervous at how he focused on her, how he seemed to be dissecting her expressions with that long, level gaze. “Um…” she started, trying to break his concentration, “what’s yours?”

“My what?”

“What are you passionate about, Kona?”

The smile left his face and Keira saw his lips move, she thought he was mouthing the word, “passion,” but she couldn’t be sure. When she nudge his arm, Kona’s grin disappeared. “Only one thing at the moment,” he said, recovering from that truthful admission with a shrug of his shoulders. “Playing the game.”

“Ah. The chase, I see.”

Kona opened his mouth, seemed determined to argue with her, but then Tonya Lucas, a rail thin blonde that lived three doors down from Keira, retrieved something from the printer. Her shirt was too tight, skirt barely covered her thighs and Kona noticed. Tonya’s gaze honed onto him and the low squint of her eyes, the way she barely pulled her bottom lip between her top teeth, told Keira that with Kona, there really wasn’t a chase.

When Tonya passed their table, gave Kona a wink, the linebacker smiled, watched her until she returned to her seat. Keira didn’t know why this bothered her. She didn’t know why she felt somehow slighted. But she didn’t mention it, didn’t let that overwhelming feeling that she was somehow less-than, somehow not enough, consume her. Instead she shifted her chair, pulled it closer to the table and the scratch of the leg against the floor, brought Kona back to her.