Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(81)

Keira felt the tears burn against her lids and cursed herself for being weak. Crying was something she thought she couldn’t do anymore. Not since her father’s cowardly retreat. But those past few months with Kona had reawakened emotions long buried and she hated and loved him for that. With her head down on her dresser, Keira felt the vibration from the speakers and she rubbed her face against her arm, feeling weak, feeling pathetic and supremely stupid since she was the reason he wasn’t with her now. She wouldn’t second guess her decision to leave him, but that didn’t mean she didn’t hurt, that she wasn’t wounded by having to walk away from him.

Outside, rain slapped against the French doors that led out to her balcony and the lights above flickered, the erratic electrical current skipping the track on her stereo. Keira looked up, watching as the feeble quake of the bulbs in her chandelier flickered and when they glowed, she pushed play again, setting the song on repeat before she turned off the overhead light and switched on her bedside lamp.

There was a huge clap of thunder outside, followed by the bright strike of lightening and Keira jumped in fright. She turned to look through the door onto the balcony to see if anything had been struck, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Kona standing on the other side.

“Shit!”

He was soaked, hair flat against his head, white t-shirt sticking to him like oil, looking like some feral god, and Keira had to force her eyes away from the outline of his body, from the hard contours of his chest and ripped stomach so she could make it across the room.

She was at the door and had almost reached for the lock before she remembered the self-warning from earlier that day—the one she had to repeat when her legs tried making her move down the stairs to save him from her mother. She couldn’t let him in. He’d kiss her, he’d apologize, he’d have her forgetting why she’d left him in the first place.

Keira pulled her hand back, stepped away from the door, before Kona splayed his hand on the glass, eyes low lidded as he silently begged her to let him in. He looked horrible. Dark circles bagged under his eyes, his body trembling in the frigid, wet weather outside and rivulets of rainwater coursing over him. “Let me in.”

It was hard to refuse him, especially when he looked so lost, but Keira managed a head shake, a quick refusal that had Kona balling his fists at his side.

“Wildcat, open the damn door.”

She hated his tone, the anger laced behind each syllable. He had no reason to be mad. That anger was for her, her tiny gift for having the stomach to walk away from him. Now Kona’s own anger turned to a threat when Kona slammed his fist against the glass.

“Stop it.” She walked closer and Kona’s eyes immediately scanned her face, moved down lower, to her chest, her hard nipples. She tried not to react to the way he was looking at her, to that simmer in his eyes or the long, slow lick he made over his lips. “Just go back to campus,” she said. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“I have plenty to say to you. Now open the door before I bust the glass.”

He would never, she thought. Kona had a temper, same as Keira, but he wouldn’t lower himself to vandalism. Not just because she’d been hiding from him. She knew it was stupid to smirk at him, to offer that small challenge that told him she doubted him, but it seemed Keira always did stupid things when Kona was around.

One flash of anger moved across his face, worked his frown until his eyelids lowered and then Keira screamed, darting backward as Kona kicked his large foot against the pane of glass above the door handle.

Glass shattered across her floor, small chunks that Keira had to avoid as Kona slipped his hand in and unlocked the door. “Are you out of your mind?” Her attention was on avoiding the glass, moving away from it so it didn’t touch her bare feet when Kona walked into the room, rainwater still streaming over his face and off his hair like melted ice. “You’re freaking lucky I hadn’t set the alarm.”

Kona didn’t seem to care about alarms or disturbing the neighbors. He didn’t care about anything but crunching the glass under his feet to get to her. His wet hands felt good on her arms when he touched them and Keira tried not to enjoy the feel of his cold body against her when he hugged her. “Fuck, baby, I missed you.”

“Stop it, Kona,” she told him, stepping out of his touch. “I’m serious, you need to leave.”

She needed a distraction, something that would pull her gaze away from his body, away from the anxious look in his eyes. Keira picked up the towel she used earlier and tossed it to him.

“I’m not like you,” he said, wiping his face and hair dry before he dropped the towel onto the floor. Another step and Kona had her against the dresser, hands resting near her hips. “I can’t just walk away and feel nothing. Not when it comes to you. I’m not heartless that way.”

“Oh and I am?”

“Hell yes you are. You take everything with you.” Kona pulled her damp hair between his fingers, squinting against the faint light in her room, but Keira lifted her chin, wouldn’t let that touch weaken her anger. Kona dipped his head, let it rest on her shoulder. “Everything gets dark. That’s cruel, Wildcat. You’re so cruel sometimes.”

She pushed him off of her, and Kona went back two small steps. She hated the smile he gave her, hated that he was trying to charm her. “Fuck you, Kona.”