Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(33)

“Mr. Hale?”

The ICU nurse was all business. Keira and the moment of them staring at each other, slipping toward something real, him running from their potential, all faded away as he walked over to the nurses’ station.

“How is he?”

“Dr. Michaels will be in to talk to you in a moment. Your grandfather is stable.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, kept her attention on the blinking lights of the phone and Kona stood there, trying to follow Keira’s advice, trying to be calm, cool.

“Can I see him?”

The nurse picked up the phone when it rang again and silenced Kona with her index finger pointed up, wordlessly telling him to give her a minute. He didn’t realize he was growling, didn’t notice that weird, frustrated sound was coming from his throat until the nurse’s sharp eyes snapped to him.

Keira elbowed him, mumbled “Calm down, Cujo,” before Dr. Michaels finally made an appearance.

The man was tall, lanky, but Kona knew he had at least five inches on him and so the scowl that wrinkled the doctor’s green eyes didn’t have the effect the man may have wanted. He pulled his fingers through the graying blonde hair and his face pinched up when he glanced between Kona and Keira. “Your grandfather had a mild heart attack.” The doctor’s voice was impassive with the hint of boredom. Kona felt the words move right through him. He had no bedside manner. There wasn’t anything gentle, anything approaching sympathy in his expression. “We’ll need to do surgery to know for sure, but from what I’ve seen so far, he has a blockage.”

It was Keira’s hand in his, squeezing, telling him she was right there with him that kept Kona from losing the small grip he had on his cool. He felt the burn of tears starting behind his eyelids, but managed to keep them on his lashes with a hard squint. The thick knot in his throat, though, wouldn’t go away.

“When will he go in?” Kona watched that silver ring Keira wore. It had intricate knots like a rope and reminded him of a fairy.

“We’ll be prepping him in just a few minutes. He’s unconscious and heavily sedated.”

Kona knew that meant Tutu kane wouldn’t know he was there. Dr. Michaels was telling him to sit tight and not get in the way. “Alright.”

“Does your mother know where you are?” This, the doctor directed at Keira and Kona heard the question for what it really was. Does your mother know you’re with this boy?

Keira’s hand fell away from his and Kona kept his disappointment to himself. He wouldn’t let her see how much he liked the sensation of their fingers locked together. That was stupid. That was weak and Kona was ripped open enough for one day. Let her run, he thought.

“She doesn’t.”

“Then maybe you should go home, Keira.” It was spoken more like a suggestion than demand, but the warning in the man’s voice was heavy with insistence.

Keira folded her arms, moved her chin to challenge her stepfather. “Kona’s my friend, Steven, and until his people get here, I’m not leaving.”

“My friend.” The words were there, bouncing around in Kona’s head when the doctor walked away. Maybe it was just something to say, something she knew would piss off her stepfather, but Kona thought she meant it. He wasn’t sure why that made him smile. He wasn’t sure “friend” would be the word he’d used to describe Keira - but he was awfully glad she had.

“Your stepdad is kind of a dick,” he told her, pulling his lips between his teeth to bury his smile.

Keira kept her eyelids narrowed as she watched the doctor talk to the nurses, prepare the others to bring his tutu kane up to surgery. A pulse twitched in Keira’s top lip, a little quirk that had Kona’s smile retreating.

“He has expectations.” She finally looked at him and that twitch worked double time. “They all do.”

Keira’s gaze moved from his face, over his shoulder and Kona followed, to see his mother quickly advancing on them from the elevator doors. She quickly wrapped Kona in her arms.

Professor Alana smelled like vanilla and her soft hair brushed against his face when she hugged him. “Keiki kane… keiki kane,” she said twice, under her breath, like saying “son” over and over in Hawaiian was a mantra of comfort, a balm meant for them both.

Luka was there, too, t-shirt and jeans rumpled, his thick black hair sticking up in different directions and his eyes red as Kona offered his twin a nod, a quick glance that Kona hoped would ease his twin.

“What happened?” his mother asked, pulling out of his arms, her face lined with worry, and a fear that Kona couldn’t ever remember seeing her wear before. Underneath her black framed glasses, Kona could see that her makeup was smudged and clumpy. By the wrinkles of her linen suit he knew she’d rushed to get here from campus.

“Heart attack.”

Their reactions were quick—his mother’s gasp, her hands covering her mouth as she tried to silence her alarm; Luka stumbled where he stood, his arms instantly working into a tremble. And then, Kona relayed what Dr. Michaels had told him, felt stupid and pointless doing it. For a second he thought he’d ask Keira to explain it better, but she had stepped away from them, had become a shadow when Kona’s mother approached.

Thankfully Dr. Michaels came out to the nurses’ station just then, and explained to Professor Alana the details that Kona had been too confused, too exhausted to understand. Luka shuffled behind them, listening intently. Keira was still invisible, watching his mother, squinting when her stepfather gave the woman distracted, convoluted clarifications.