Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(37)
Keira wasn’t like that. Keira would never be common.
And so Kona let common Tonya Lucas leave his house, pissed off that he couldn’t make his eyes stay on her, that he couldn’t be bothered to ask for her number; that he couldn’t think of anything else but getting back to Keira and apologizing for something he shouldn’t feel guilty about.
He caught Luka’s eyes first, not liking how close his twin stood to Keira, not understanding why Luka didn’t seem to make Keira feel nervous. But he couldn’t dwell on that; not when Keira stepped away from them, pretended to be interested in the team pictures lining the wall.
“Bad?” he asked his twin, but his brother only shrugged, telling Kona silently that he wouldn’t help him out of this one. “Thanks, brah. No really.” A small jab at Luka’s shoulder and his brother left Kona alone with Keira in the room.
She hadn’t moved, eyes still up at those row of pictures, decades of CPU players who had gone on to lives Kona could only dream of. He slipped in behind her, fingers aching to touch her hair, to pull what she’d seen of him and Tonya from her head.
“You missed class,” she finally said, making a slow turn that had Kona stepping away from her. He couldn’t read her expression, though he tried. Keira was so closed off sometimes; she was a shit liar, but sometimes, Kona had noticed, her temper would get so great that it bypassed rage and moved into simmering calm, hiding whatever she was thinking from her expressions. He thought this moment might be inching toward that calm.
“Yeah, I felt like shit this morning.”
She didn’t believe him and really, Kona knew it was stupid to lie to her. But he let the look she gave him pass—eyebrow lifted and a small tremor vibrating her top lip as though she was trying hard not to scowl.
“Better now?” Her gaze moved behind him to the front door where Tonya had left and Kona meant to say something, tell Keira it wasn’t any of her business what he’d done this morning or why he’d missed class, but before he could utter a sound, she shook her head, blinking twice before her expression shifted, became distant, hard. “Miller said if we don’t both have our rough drafts handed in by three this afternoon, then we’ll get points taken off.”
“Okay.” Kona hoped he could be cool, could let her know without sounding like a groveling * that he felt bad. He hoped his tone was sincere, that she could somehow read each inflection and would know that he wanted her, that he was sorry he’d touched Tonya. He failed miserably. “Listen, Wildcat…”
“Don’t call me that.” Simmering calm, he thought. This is simmering calm and Kona’s own frustration began to bubble. He took a step and she retreated, sidestepping until the coffee table separated them and Kona hated the distance, hated that her cool tone was affecting him. He opened his mouth, licked his lips to keep them from cracking against his hot breath, but Keira wouldn’t let him excuse anything away. Hand up to silence him, she let that distant tone fill each syllable. “Is your rough draft finished?” Kona nodded, not sure she’d let him say anything at all. “Good. Please get it to Miller in time. I’d appreciate it.”
When she turned to leave, Kona moved, catching her before she could make it to the front door. “Listen to me for a second, okay? Tonya, this morning…” He paused, fighting for words that didn’t sound like pathetic excuses. When nothing came to him, he waved his hand, “that was nothing.”
“It’s none of my business what you do away from our class, Kona.”
“I just meant—”
“In fact,” she said, smiling, and Kona didn’t like how quick the grin came, how there was no warmth in it. “I don’t give a shit about what you… do.” Eyes downcast, glancing over his dick, Keira’s lethal smile faltered. “The only thing I care about is my grade and if you don’t turn in the rough draft—”
“I’ll turn in the damn draft.” He cut her off because he was pissed. He was mad that she was playing off whatever she was feeling because she was somehow disappointed in him. And, she was lying. She had to be. Those great blue eyes became wet and Keira blinked, lashes moving like a fan and Kona knew she was fighting whatever emotion had her angry at him. It pissed him off. She did. She confused him and the tone, her dismissive attitude did nothing but frustrate Kona.
“Good, then we don’t have a problem.”
Again she turned to leave, but Kona took her elbows, backed her against the wall so she’d look at him. “Why are you pissed at me?”
“Why the hell would I pissed at you?”
That calm was fractured, rendered useless by the lick of heat working over her cheeks. He knew she wanted him. He knew seeing Tonya here this morning had hurt her. She was just too damn stubborn to admit it. “You jealous?”
“Excuse me?” He didn’t expect her laughter. He didn’t expect her to be cruel, condescending with one small laugh. It stung. “You think I’m jealous that you’re passing along STDs to the female student body? Get over yourself, Kona.” When she pushed against his chest, he caught her fingers, holding her struggling hand against his chest. And then, the heat coiled tight, rose up to swell between them. It was the same unexplainable sensation he’d felt the night of her attack; the same thing that crackled the air that day at the hospital. It was bitterness and want, peeking out from his anger, from her jealousy, and right then, Kona moved closer, leaned against her and he didn’t have to hold her fingers still on his chest.