Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(31)

But sitting in the ER waiting room next to her didn’t feel awkward. It felt good. She had an effect on him that he couldn’t explain. He’d noticed it once before. The night that * tried robbing her. Kona had been seconds from letting the rage building overtake him, lash out until there would have been no return from the violence that begged to escape. But Keira stopped him. Keira settled him, just like minutes before. He wasn’t sure what that meant. He wasn’t sure he wanted it to mean anything at all.

“Give me your mom’s number and the nurse will call her.”

Kona was on autopilot. His Nokia was in her hands and he barely blinked. He didn’t care that Keira would see his contacts. He didn’t care that she could read his messages. He just wanted her to keep him calm. And as Keira scrolled through his phone, as she walked to the front desk and gave the nurse his numbers, Kona thought autopilot was a good place to be.





The coffee looked like piss.

There was something floating on the surface. It could have been sugar. Maybe a bug, but Kona kept staring at it, wondering idly how anyone could make coffee look like piss.

“Even people that don’t drink coffee, have it at hospitals.” Keira leaned over his shoulder and squinted at the cup in Kona’s hand. “Except that shit,” she said, taking it out his hands. “Yeah. No. You aren’t drinking that.”

“How long you think it’s been in there?”

The silver coffee pot had a film over the base; a gooey, burnt mess that sizzled when the machine kicked on. It smelled worse than the coffee pouring from it and Keira’s nose bunched up when the red indicator light beeped.

“Since Arthur was just a twitch in Uther’s shorts.”

Kona laughed. The sound surprised him, took the edge off what seemed like days as he and Keira had been waiting to hear from Dr. Michaels. It was the first time his head wasn’t consumed with thoughts of his tutu kane and he looked at Keira, at that disgusted scowl bending her mouth, and he felt grateful.

“Wildcat, you are such a dork.” She shrugged, not bothered by his insult and made for the lobby before Kona grabbed her wrist. “Thanks. You know…” he nodded toward the waiting room and felt stupid, felt raw as he tried to get her to catch his meaning.

“It’s no big deal.”

“It is.” He moved her out of the way of a cleaning woman loaded down with a roll of plastic trash bags heading toward the trashcan next to that stinking coffee pot. He didn’t let go of her arm until they were next to an empty row of chairs. “You calmed me down.” For what could have been the thousandth time, Kona looked behind the windows of the ICU, distracted by the traffic of nurses and orderlies that were still moving in and out from behind the curtain drawn around his grandfather’s bed. But Keira seemed to know when he was worried, when the quiet bustle of whatever was being done to his grandfather had Kona slipping close to the edge of panic.

She touched his arm, tugging his sleeve to direct into a seat. “I’m good in a panic.”

“Shit, I’m not.”

“I can tell.”

When Kona saw Dr. Michaels slip open the curtain and whisper something to a nurse, he stood up, arms squeezed tight across his chest and Keira was next to him; her shoulder bumping his arm. Just then, if he wanted to touch her, he knew she would fit perfectly underneath him. His chin on her head, her small body against his chest, set like a puzzle.

“Steven really is one of the best.” Her voice chased the thoughts of her against him from his mind. “Your grandpa is in good hands.”

Dr. Michaels offered him glance and Kona thought he might come out with an update, but the doctor only looked at Keira, gave her a nod and then disappeared behind the curtain. It wasn’t until Kona saw the small ripple of the floral curtain move closed that he returned to his seat with Keira at his side.

“He was unconscious when I found him.” Kona stretched out his long legs, brushed his feet against Keira’s before his elbows moved to his knees. “He was supposed to meet me at the Maple Leaf. Rebirth was playing and he likes the trumpets.” Kona’s words moved automatically, each recall scarier than the next, but his voice was distant and to him, weak. “He didn’t show and I got worried.” He didn’t react when Keira fit her fingers between his. He liked how natural they felt against his, how the slide of her soft skin sent a small vibration into his knuckles. “If I’d picked him up—”

“Kona, don’t do that shit. Seriously.”

“I’m just sayin.”

“Yeah and it won’t help. You’ll work yourself up with all the ‘If Only’ crap. Trust me, I know.”

He looked at her, eyebrow raised. There was something on Keira’s face; some weird expression that Kona didn’t know how to read. She was looking for something, asking a question Kona wasn’t sure he wanted to answer, but Keira wasn’t a coward, that much he’s learned about her. And then, that curious expression shifted, the uncertainty replaced by decision.

“I was supposed to be with my dad the night he died.” Her voice was a whisper, barely lifting between her wet lips. Keira watched the floor, eyes steady without a single blink and Kona understood this was her helping. That bare look leveled him, kept his gaze on the slow movement of her mouth. “He wanted to take me to Biloxi for the weekend, but Leann had tickets to Babyface.” Kona couldn’t help but laugh, it slipped out and he thought he’d missed his chance, that she would retreat. He relaxed when Keira’s smile widened to dent her cheeks. “Don’t give me that look. ‘Whip Appeal’ was the truth when I was ten.”