Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(26)
“Messed up?”
“Yeah. I mean, come on, Valjean can’t be bothered to handle his own shit so he lets his guy do it and that poor Fantine lady gets fired?” Kona looked up at her, heading shaking as though he was disgusted. “It’s all his fault. All the shit she went through, it was his fault.”
“That’s why he took care of Cosette. He knew he’d messed up. That’s what I meant by betrayal. Valjean’s betrayal was like Lancelot’s.” When Keira’s fingers stopped moving against Kona’s temples, he tapped her hand to get her to continue. “He did this terrible thing and wanted to make up for it. It’s a story all about betrayal; a lover’s betrayal, society’s, how even the greatest, consuming loves can be harmful.”
Kona was silent, listening to Keira’s theory and she wondered if he was trying to work out the comparisons. She wondered if he was thinking of anything at all other than how close they were now, how intimately she was touching him. She let her mind drift, let herself enjoy the feel of his heavy weight and the easy way she was touching him. She wasn’t nervous. Not just then. She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t, but sitting there with Kona Hale stretched out on her lap, trusting her to take away his pain, trusting her to lead him to a resolution for their project, gave Keira an unaccustomed sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in a while. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She knew who Kona was. She knew she didn’t really fit into his world. Keira wasn’t sure she ever would.
“Your theory reminds me of Beloved,” he said, surprising Keira.
“You’ve read Beloved?”
Dark eyes open, Kona frowned at her. “You surprised?”
“Yeah, sorry, but I am. You know Morrison, but not Campbell?”
Kona shrugged and Keira liked him surprising her. She liked seeing there was more to him than the image he wanted everyone to see. “We had to read it senior year. Our English teacher was excited about the movie coming out.” When Kona opened his mouth, as though he’d say something to erase any approval she felt in that moment, Keira deepened her touch, shutting up anything he might have said.
“I can see the similarities. There’s definitely betrayal in Beloved and the whole consuming love thing.”
“You think it’s bad to let love consume you?”
It was a loaded question and Keira knew she’d have to be careful with her answer. Kona knew more about her than she wanted. He’d pried, he’d wondered and for some reason Keira could not name, she’d allowed him in just a bit. She knew his prying was likely motivated by whatever interest he had in her. She didn’t trust it. She didn’t trust him or herself when he was around her.
“You remember Paul D telling Sethe her love was too thick? He couldn’t handle how much she loved him. Fantine’s love was thick. Maybe too thick. Maybe that’s why she had to die.”
“She was doing whatever she had to for her kid, Keira. No good parent would do any less.”
“I guess.”
Somewhere in their brief discussion, Keira noticed her fingers had moved from his temples to his thick hair. It happened absently, without her thinking about it, without his complaints. It took several moments before Keira realized they were staring at each other. There wasn’t anything significant in that moment, no weighted energy passing between them. There was only comfort and casualness and the curious thoughts they kept to themselves.
“Maybe Arthur’s love was too thick,” Kona said. “Or maybe Guinevere’s was. She was into them both—Arthur and Lancelot. Maybe she loved them both too much.”
“No, I don’t believe Guinevere loved either of them. With Arthur, it was power. With Lancelot it was lust. Both are thin love.”
“And thin love is bad?”
“That’s what Sethe tells Paul D, remember?”
Kona nodded, eyes shifted away from her face as he seemed held up by his own thoughts. “’Thin love ain’t love at all.’”
“Exactly.”
Kona’s gaze moved back to Keira, but he didn’t speak. The look he gave her expanded in the quiet of her room, stirred by his eyes growing darker, by the slow, constant rake of her fingers through his hair. He lifted his hand, stopping her fingers and held onto her wrist, eyes unblinking. Then something happened in that brief pause. The look they shared sharpened and the pull between them rose.
Kona sat up, slow, cautious and Keira watched him, watched unable to react, to respond, until Kona leaned toward her, until she could smell the drugging scent of his skin and feel the soft outline of his mouth. It was the pause of everything, a kindling of heat that Keira did not know how to contain—Kona’s soft lips against hers, his airy breath moving behind the hint of tongue—at once Keira felt drugged, controlled and manic.
Keira’s mouth worked against her will, a reaction, a gut feel of movement that she did not control and Kona seemed to love it, pulled her closer, guided her hands around his waist, up to that massive chest and Keira did not stop him.
She loved the sound of his throat vibrating, those low, delicious growls he made when her tongue touched his, when her mouth moved faster, harder. Before she realized what was happening, Kona leaned over her, had her caged against the pillows. Behind her closed eyes, Keira allowed only the sensations of touch and taste to filter into her mind and she knew, unconsciously, absolutely, that she wanted Kona Hale. She wanted his hands on her back, lowering; his mouth, tongue, down her neck nibbling. All that sensation, the fiery spark of their bodies connecting consumed her, made her feel drunk, wanted, beautiful. Cherished.