Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(61)

Somehow, though, Robins didn’t care. “Hale, get your ass over here,” the coach said when practice was winding down. Kona met him on the sidelines, helmet in his hand. Robins didn’t bother looking up from his clipboard. “Get rid of those pads. You’re on the chute for twenty minutes.”

“Coach…”

“You spent the first hour of my practice running like an old lady.” Finally, he glanced at Kona, eyes cold, hard, like Kona’s half-assed efforts were a personal offense. “You wanna play tomorrow night, son?”

Kona nodded, trying to swallow down his irritation.

“Good. Then get your ass on the track and put on that damn resistance chute. I need you ready.”

Nathan and Brian laughed at him as he walked off the field, striping off his jersey and pads as he went and Kona gave them a middle finger salute. An assistant coach Kona had only met twice outfitted him with the chute and Kona tore down the track, cursing Robins and his own stupidity as he ran.

Keira’s voice came back to him then. Between each thump of his heart and the heavy pant of his breath, Kona heard her words over and over.

Just walk away.

Just walk away? From her? Was she out of her head?

Kona’s thoughts and the aching guilt that crawled into his chest when Keira’s head slammed against that window drove out the tension in his body, made the pull of the chute behind him seem like the toddler tugging on his shirt. He ran to get away from how stupid he’d been thinking she belonged with him. Of course she turned him loose. He didn’t deserve her. He couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He’d known it would end, felt it in his gut, but Kona was selfish, greedy for what he wanted and the only thing he wanted then was Keira.

It took a full minute for the sound of the coach’s whistle to register. The cloud lifted from his head and exhaustion fell on him, like a drain unstoppered.

“Hale!” Robins yelled from the field and Kona moved his chin, acknowledging him. “Pack it up.”

Luka met him as Kona picked up his pads and jersey and he took the water bottle his twin offered. His brother had that look, the one that told Kona he was going to nag.

Kona downed the water and fell to the ground, sitting with his arms resting on his knees. Luka joined him, leaning back on his hands. He was giving Kona a moment to settle, but Luka was impatient. Kona could see by the way his brother shook his leg that he was gearing up for a fight.

Kona sighed, took one final swallow of cold water and then he nodded at his brother. “Go ahead.”

“What was that?”

“Luka, back off. I don’t feel like hearing you bitch at me.”

“Well somebody needs to. You’re f*cking this up.”

Kona threw the bottle and it just missed Luka’s head. “It’s one practice. One out of how many? I’m not allowed an off day?”

“No. You’re not.” Luka kicked his foot. “Not even one. There is too much riding on this, Kona and you know it. You have to be perfect, all the time. You have to work harder than anyone else out there.” He turned his head, watching Nathan and Brian as they slung water at each other, emptying each of their bottles as they chased each other off the field. “We both do. We’re up against guys that have two years on us. This ain’t freshman year anymore. We’re out of the weight room and on the field. We have to be better than everyone on that line.”

Kona didn’t want to hear it. He knew it already, knew how his little effort, how his distraction had affected his playing. Still, he didn’t need Luka repeating something he already knew. He stood up then, walking toward the locker room without a backward glance at his twin, but stopped short when his empty water bottle connected with the back of his head. Kona spun around, pissed off, growing angrier at Luka’s laughter, at how his brother bent over, holding his stomach.

“Shit,” Luka said when Kona stomped toward him, peeling off his sweaty shirt like he was ready for a serious scrape.

“You think you’re funny? Think that shit is funny?”

Without thinking, Kona took a swing and his brother didn’t flinch, he barely moved and Kona’s huge knuckles caught Luka right on the chin.

His brother staggered back, rubbed his chin then held up his hand when one of the assistants start toward them. Finally, he looked at Kona, his eyebrows up. “Feel better?”

“No!” Kona kicked his pads, sending them next to the sideline benches.

“Is this about that bitch?”

He rushed toward his brother, grabbing his collar. “Don’t you f*cking call her that. Don’t ever call her that.”

Luka’s features transformed, shock, surprise all making his eyes round, making his mouth dip open. “Woah, dude, what the hell?”

Keira again. It all came back to her. She had him on edge, had him stupid with confusion and guilt and Kona didn’t think Luka would get it. He knew his twin had never spent more than a week with one girl, hell, Kona hadn’t either, before. This was all new to him and the idea that he hated and loved feeling this way twisted his gut. Exhausted from the excruciating practice and the muddled shit running through his mind, Kona dropped to his knees then sat back down on the ground.

Luka came next to him, but Kona kept his eyes down, fingers curled in his hair. “I almost killed her.”

“What?”