Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(63)

“Ricky’s way isn’t how you do it.”

“I know that,” he said, walking back toward the locker room. “I’m not an idiot. It’s just temporary.”

“It’s never temporary.” Kona waved him off, jogged away from Luka before he tried stopping him again, but as he edged toward the locker room, he heard Luka behind him, voice loud, a small plea between each word. “Kona, don’t do this, brah. Kona! Wait!”





How dare you

Trample with your words

Tatter who I am

Poison with your lips

Give it gram by gram.



The words poured from Keira, fell from her mouth like water and she lived inside that melody, brought life and breath to lyric and rhyme like a priestess working a spell. Except the hook. She was stumped by that constant refrain that would make the song complete.

Saturday night and Keira sat on her bed, strumming her Gibson, while the rest of campus cheered on the CPU Blue Devils. She had enough inspiration, enough melancholy and angst to write a hundred songs. But that elusive hook held her back.

She tried again, fitting words together by force, lining phrases with chords that did not connect, that didn’t reflect what she kept inside her. Keira didn’t know why it was such a struggle, where this block had come from, but she needed the comfort music provided. Her emotions were too raw, her head still full of Kona’s mouth, his hands, the disgusting way he played her. She promised herself she wouldn’t leave her bed until that damn hook came to her.

Three more chords, a few hums to fill the words that had not come to her and then the knock on her door stopped her mid-strum. Guitar on the foot of her bed, Keira grabbed her hoodie off the dresser before she opened the door just a crack and then, drew it back when she saw Luka Hale standing in the hallway.

“Luka?”

His smile was easy, as usual, and Keira liked how relaxed he was, how relaxed he always seemed. “Sorry to barge in like this.” Luka bit on the inside of his mouth, a nervous gesture that made him seem harmless.

Keira wasn’t so sure about that. She bet that supposedly harmless maneuver had landed many a gullible girl in his bed.

Hale Hawaiian demon magic, she thought.

“It’s okay, but Kona’s not here,” she told him, figuring that was the only reason Kona’s twin would be at her door. She tried not to think about what post-game activities the big linebacker was up to. “I thought he’d be with you.”

“He’s at Lucy’s with the rest of the team.” Luka nodded at her, as though he wanted an invitation inside and Keira relented, opening the door wider.

“Okay.” For the life of her, Keira couldn’t think why Luka would be there. She and Kona had kept things between them. At least, she thought they had. He’d certainly never mentioned talking about her to his brother, and anytime they went out it was always alone and never involved anywhere his family or teammates would be. But Luka came into her dorm room, eyes roaming around, hands swinging at his side, like he had something to say to her. He turned away from Leann’s desk and offered Keira a smile, glancing once at her bed.

“How was the game?” She moved her guitar and notebook out of his way and offered him the foot of her bed.

“Good. We won. Fourteen to ten.” He shrugged, waved his hand like their match with the Florida Gators hadn’t been a big deal. Keira knew better. Well, she knew better because Leann told her it was a huge deal. Luka leaned back against the footboard when Keira sat across from him. “Could have been better. Kona was off. He’s been off for a while.”

“He didn’t mentioned anything about it.” She cleared her throat. “We never talked about football.”

That smile was dangerous, flirty, and Keira rolled her eyes when Luka waggled his eyebrows. “He wouldn’t.” When she didn’t return the stupid smile, Luka exhaled, sat up straighter. “Look, Keira, it’s none of my business what’s going on with you and my brother.”

She felt awkward with him here, not like she had that first time with Kona, but there was still a strange sense of discomfort in the room. “But you’re making it your business?”

“I guess I am.” Luka got off the bed, walked around her room with his hands touching random things—her picture frames on the dresser, Leann’s bracelets. “He’s my twin,” he finally said, bouncing Leann’s rubber tension ball onto the floor. “There isn’t anybody in the world who I know better, who knows me better and when he’s going through shit, we handle it. Together.”

Keira lowered her shoulders, thinking that all this nervous behavior was about Kona and the stupid way he drove around the city. She thought Luka was trying to smooth things over, maybe convince her not tell anyone why she’d ended up at the ER. “If this is about the wreck…”

“He feels like shit.” Luka threw the rubber ball onto Leann’s bed. “He feels worse that you cut him loose.”

Keira would have preferred him asking her to keep her mouth shut. Luka wanted to smooth things over, all right. He was playing mediator?

“I did what he wanted. He was pushing me, Luka. I just gave him an out.”

“The thing is, I’ve never seen him like he is with you. At first, I didn’t like it. I told him as much yesterday.” Luka moved back to the bed, this time sitting closer to Keira. “But he got worse. At practice and even tonight at the game, he was keyed up, but off, on edge and I figured it was because of you. I figured if he had it so bad for you before, then you breaking up with him made him ten times worse.”