Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(46)

“I told you, Kona,” she said, looking up at him. “I don’t do hook ups. I’m not Tonya.”

Kona winced and Keira took a step forward, needing not to see that expression. “I know you’re not and I’m glad you’re not her.” He took her hand, pulled her around so she could see his eyes. “There isn’t anyone like you, Wildcat. No one, and I have no idea what that means, but I wanna find out.” When Kona moved his hands down her back, Keira could only think of tasting his full lips and the airy breath on her tongue again. “Let me, will you? Don’t walk away.”

She knew how easy saying yes would be. Kona was hard to reject, but Keira didn’t trust whatever was happening between them. It felt too foreign, too thick. “I… I can’t. Not with you, Kona. I’m not…”

“This about Tonya still? You think I’m into her.” He looked up at the ceiling, stretching his neck. “I’m not,” he said, staring back at her. “I’m not into anyone. You can’t hold that against me forever.”

“Why not? I’m only observing, here. Only collecting the facts to form an opinion.”

Shoulders slumping, Kona pulled back, but didn’t seem able to keep his hands off her completely. “You think I’m trash?”

“I think you’re easily bored. I think you have no idea what real emotion is.” A breath, and then Keira cleared her throat. “I think you’re incapable of what I want. Thin will never be good enough for me.”

With his frown, Keira knew Kona was remembering their conversation about Beloved. She wanted the real, the impossible, the consuming, and despite how they touched each other, how the fire between them set flame to their bodies, she wasn’t convinced Kona was able to be what she needed.

“Let me try.”

“I can’t…”

“I’m not making promises,” he said, ignoring her protest. “That’s not me.” His hand went back to her face and just that small touch rekindled the ache between her thighs. “But dammit, Keira, I have to be around you.” He walked them back, leaned her against the wall again and Kona’s breath came out hard, like he was trying to keep it steady. “You have to let me try.”

Next to them, the elevator doors opened and despite the warning that came when the bell chimed, Kona did not push away from Keira. Neither of them checked the hallway or noticed they weren’t alone.

“Keira?” Mark’s voice was like an alarm and Keira pulled Kona’s hand from her face, tried to adjust her shirt, smooth her hair. When his eyes shifted over her rumpled clothes, Keira saw the shifting expression on Mark’s face. A little disappointment, maybe a quirk of humor. He still reserved a quick frown for Kona. “You okay?”

“She’s fine.” Kona pulled Keira’s fingers between his.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Mark said, throwing back Kona’s words to him.

The linebacker’s breath grew heavy and Keira could tell by the flex in his hand that his calm was ebbing. She hurried in front of him, not caring for once that her cheeks were flushed. “I’m fine, Mark.” She smiled, took a step toward him when he continued to frown. “Promise.”

Mark waited a moment, gaze moving between Kona and Keira before it settled on her face. “Leann and Michael took a cab back to his place. My car’s parked a block away.” He left the offer open, telling Keira he’d let her make a decision.

“I’ll get her home.”

Mark didn’t bother acknowledging Kona. Fair play for the * behavior, Keira figured, but when Mark’s squint and slow quirking smile told her he wasn’t angry, Keira relaxed.

She could feel Kona’s breath blowing against the top of her head. She could smell the mix of sweat and cologne from his skin and, despite the audience, the sensation was overwhelming, penetrating so that Kona’s brief, brush of a touch against her neck had Keira’s eyes rolling behind her closed lids. The moment kept with the pads of his thumb down her spine and it was only Mark’s clearing of his throat that brought Keira out of Kona’s touch.

“I’ll be fine,” she finally told him.

A quick nod and Mark hit the elevator button, but before he left, he winked at Keira, a quick smile making him seem calm, or at least, less annoyed. “You be careful with this new game plan.”

She smiled at him, offered Mark a quick nod. “Absolutely.”





Kona felt like a stalker. A creepy, stupid, awkward stalker. It was not something he’d ever been. Sitting on the back of a park bench, elbows on his knees and hood over his eyes, Kona caught the attention of the people around him.

A cross country meet wasn’t usually where Kona would be on a Saturday morning and the coaches and scattering of parents around him seemed to know it. He caught several sidelong glances, one or two head nods, and he was glad that other than quick acknowledgements that he’d been recognized was all the notice the small crowd gave him.

Still, he felt stupid waiting near the finish line for Keira to place. She wasn’t expecting him, hadn’t, in fact, even answered the calls he’d made the night before. After their tangle in Nathan’s hallway, things got awkward. He’d driven Keira home and they sat in the parking lot of her building listening to the sound of their matching breaths. The car had filled with her scent, that sweet drugging taste of flower and skin, but Kona didn’t touch her. He’d wanted her to lead.