Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(34)

“He is a dick,” Keira confirmed, sliding back to his side. “See how he’s looking at her?” Kona nodded, moved his head so he could watch how the doctor’s face was pinched, how he gestured when he spoke. “That’s him dumbing down your grandfather’s condition. He doesn’t think your mom will understand him. That’s classic pretentious Steven.”

“Then he’s an idiot.” Kona took Keira’s hand and they leaned side by side on the wall to get a clearer view. “Watch this.”

They couldn’t hear the conversation, but Kona recognized his mother’s expression. One slim eyebrow lifted and she tilted her head, staring over the oval glasses she wore. That was her “don’t f*ck with me” look and it worked, like always. Dr. Michaels swallowed, then rubbed his neck when Kona’s mother took a step, when that fearsome glare became a silent threat.

“Damn,” was all Keira could manage.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Kona knew he shouldn’t smile at Keira. His focus should be on Luka, on his mother who listened as Dr. Michaels fidgeted around his explanations. But it was hard not to want to step closer to Keira.

Suddenly his mother left the doctor, expression closed off, stride confident, steady, as she moved toward her new target. She was going to take back the reins Keira had held in her absence. Kona knew the look his mother gave Keira. It was the same look she gave anyone that disappointed her. He’d seen her stare at Luka like that their whole life.

“I’m here now, Ms. Riley and this is a private matter. It’s best you go.”

But Keira wasn’t shaken by the command in his mother’s voice. She blinked twice and sighed, as though she wasn’t surprised by the attitude. Kona felt lost, looking between them. Despite how stupid it sounded in his head, he needed Keira to stay.

“You want me to stick around?” she asked him, completely disregarding how close his mother moved toward her, how fierce her glare became.

“Ms. Riley, I don’t think you understand—”

“Kona?” she interrupted, looking up at him. “You want me to stick around or not?” No one had ever dismissed his mother like that and Kona was impressed. His smile was answer enough for her. “I can stay.”

His mother challenged her with another hard look but Keira didn’t flinch. He had never seen her that way before—adamant, fearless— and Kona wondered if it had been their waiting together for the bad news he knew would come; her holding him up when he showed weakness, that had stiffened Keira’s nerve, that had her challenging both their families.

Keira Riley was a live wire, jerking and sharp, and part of him wanted to see if she would burn him. Part of him wanted to know what it felt like to hold that wire in his hands.

But he knew being with her, touching her, letting her hold him up again would only bury him deeper. He didn’t want deep. He wanted simple. He wanted easy. Nothing about Keira would ever be easy.

His mother cleared her throat and Kona took that for the warning it was; her letting him know she wasn’t happy. He didn’t need the drama of the two women playing tug of war for his attention.

“Keira, it’s cool. I’m fine now, really. Thank you.” And with that, his mother smiled and she and Luka walked away, made for one of the small tables in the waiting area.

For her part, Keira seemed unaffected by his slight dismissal. She was good with that, bending to the change in his attitude.

“Okay. Well, I hope everything works out.” She pushed off of the wall and Kona walked her down to the lobby. The parking lot was dark and there was a small group of smokers lingering near a courtyard, the plumes of their smokes circling above them. Kona didn’t want her on her own, but his family was inside, his grandfather’s life in the hands of an *. Like she had all afternoon, Keira seemed to notice the anxiety rise back to straighten his shoulders. “Go back inside, it’s fine.” When he didn’t budge, she pulled his chin down. “Go. I’ll be okay. My car is just a couple rows down and security monitors the parking lot.”

Keira let her hand linger on his cheek and when she tried to lower it, Kona caught her fingers, kept them there. That live wire felt too warm, and he wanted to burn, just a little.

“Thank you,” he told her, this time with more feeling, as his fingers curled around her hand. And before he could stop her, before he realized he should stop her, Keira lifted up on the balls of her feet and kissed him right on the mouth. He was too surprised to push her away, then too sated to tell himself he should. It was over and she was gone before he could kiss her back. He watched her walk away wondering how he’d convince himself that Keira’s lips weren’t the sweetest things he’d ever tasted.





If music and liquor filled the hearts of New Orleanians, it was football that made those hearts pump faster. In southeast Louisiana, football was a religion and Keira found herself standing outside of her university’s resident monastery—a place she thought she’d never enter—determined to ask Kona about his rough draft.

The team house was a mammoth, red American four square with a large porch and wide, brick steps. Filtered around those steps were groups of students, mostly girls, circling a player or two like good worshippers, hoping for a scrap of humor or a quick, flirtatious smile. If it weren’t for the rows of empty beer cans lining the faded white banisters and the dead potted mums flicking dried petals in the wind, the team house might look almost welcoming.