Thin Love (42 page)

Predictably, Kona had called. He’d stopped by a dozen times, but Keira never answered. She need space from him, again, but this time she wouldn’t run away to Mandeville. The threat her mother made the week before still loomed and Kiera was tired of running from her problems. It was something Kona always called her on. But that didn’t mean she was ready to talk to him. She could avoid him away from their English class, but he was impossible to disregard during Miller’s lectures. She left early, arrived late, and sat between
Skylar Williams and her boyfriend Dylan Collins, much to the girl’s displeasure. Skylar glared at her for fifty minutes straight, but Keira had felt a different stare on the back of her neck, one that crackled in the air of the room. Kona kept his distance, stayed silent when Miller called on Keira in class, but she always felt him staring, always knew he hung onto everything she said.

Keira walked down the hall, eyes immediately going to her door and she only relaxed when she saw the pin board empty. It was the first time in a week that Kona hadn’t scribbled something on a Post It, begging for her to call him. Mingled with that relief was a little disappointment and Keira cursed herself, felt stupid for wanting him so much, for missing him despite everything, but she couldn’t help it. Things were gray, the air too heavy when he wasn’t around. He had broken her father’s guitar. He had severed her last tie to the man, the one she loved most, with a crack to the headstock. She should hate Kona for that. She should hate him for forcing her to place that broken guitar in the dumpster, for the empty space not playing music created in her heart.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

As she turned her key and inched the door open, Keira caught the scent of something overpowering and sweet. Stepping inside, she nearly tripped over two vases, both holding a huge bouquet of roses. Eyes lifting up, Keira was floored by the ridiculous amounts of flowers in her room. Nearly every surface was covered. The floor, the desk, her dresser, Leann’s bed, hers, the bookshelf; every conceivable free space was covered in roses, tulips and hibiscus. The smell lingered, surrounded her as she stepped further into the room. Keira blinked, head shaking, eyes scanning and she had no doubt who had done this. There was no way Michael would be this over the top. Her cousin’s boyfriend was always broke and a tattooer’s budget didn’t allow for this kind of ridiculous gesture.

Kona. It had to be. Who else could get flowers this big, this bright in the middle of December? Who else would take the time to arrange petals and single stems all over her bed? Who else would have made the impossible task of fixing her father’s busted guitar happen?

Keira’s mouth fell open and she took two steps, hurried and excited, when she saw the Hummingbird laying in the center of her bed. She picked it up, examining the neck, the headstock for a fray or break, but nothing was there. It was pristine, beautiful, and when she strummed against the strings, the sound was flawless, deep and familiar.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, barely managing to hold back her tears. The frets still held those precious grooves and Keira felt like she was touching her father, letting his smile kiss each fingertip as she played a few quick chords.

She’d only just noticed the card on her bed and lowered the guitar to her lap to open the envelope and read Kona’s messy scrawl.

I’m nothing without my always. Please don’t leave me lost, Wildcat.

He’d said the P word again and that whispered word she didn’t think he’d remember saying the first time they were together had stuck; it was a detail Kona committed to memory.

Keira wiped her cheeks, her nose clogged and stuffy, but she didn’t care. Her smile made her face ache and she wanted nothing more than to run out of her dorm to find Kona. But before she could leave, Leann walked through the door, her eyes becoming round, growing bigger the more she glanced around the room.

“Holy. Shit.”

“Right?”

Keira stood next to her cousin, still clutching that small note and Leann looked to her bed, smiling when she spotted the guitar.

“He got it fixed.”

“Yeah.” Keira rubbed her nose on her sleeve and followed Leann to her bed, moving three dozen clumps of flowers before she sat next to her.

Her cousin’s gaze kept searching, eyebrows lifting when she spotted another bushel, another ribbon tied grouping of flowers in unusual places. “He’s relentless,” she finally said. Keira shrugged and watched Leann take a rose from the bundle on her lap. Keira knew she was thinking of something, weighing what she should and shouldn’t say before she even met Keira’s eyes. She expected it. Leann generally didn’t lecture, not since that night she’d walked in on Keira and Kona attacking each other’s faces on her bed. She’d cautioned Keira, told her not to let Kona overwhelm her, but had stopped with the tedious warnings about STDs, cheating linebackers and hoes who would take advantage of their fighting.

Leann twirled the rose between her fingers, eyes on the tops of the petals and Keira knew another warning was coming. “It’s not my business to tell you how to live your life, Keira.”

“Since when?” When her cousin didn’t join her in her laugh, Keira leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she waited for the lecture she knew was coming. “Say what you think.”

“I like Kona. He’s nice.” Leann grabbed Keira’s hand and she let her cousin rub her fingernail over the chipping paint on her thumb. “When he’s not acting like a jealous prick, he’s good for you and I’ve never seen you smile the way you have these past few months.”

“But?”

Leann glanced at Keira, then returned her attention back to Keira’s finger. “But, I think the two of you have some serious anger issues.” She took a breath, turning onto the bed to face Keira as though she was just working up enough courage to say what she was thinking, had likely been thinking for a while. “I think you’re both young. I think you’re both dealing with emotions that you’ve never had before. And when you have two people who are… um… prone to angry behavior, then those emotions are exacerbated.”

“Shit, Leann, have you been paying attention in your psych class or something? Exacerbated? Really?”

Her cousin sighed, pulling her knees to her chest. “I’m being totally serious. You both are dealing with shit you’ve never felt before and you know the tempers, the arguments the… everything else, it’s all exaggerated by what you’re feeling.”

“So, you think we’re bad for each other?”

Leann’s shoulders fell and Keira could tell by how often her eyes moved away from Keira’s face that her cousin was trying not to hurt her feelings.

“I think this relationship isn’t always healthy. That’s all I’m saying.” Leann seemed surprised by Keira’s laugh; she frowned at that high sound and pursed her lips when Keira’s laughter only got louder. “You’re such a bitch. I’m trying to be serious here.”

Keira waved her off, falling to the bed in a fit of giggles when Leann threw a rose at her. “I know you are. I’m… I’m sorry.” She sat up, trying to breathe again. “Oh, sweetie, you don’t think I know all of that? We are certifiable, completely and utterly bat shit crazy.”

“And that’s normal to you?”

“Oh God, no. Kona and I both know we’re totally not good for each other.”

“Then why…”

“Because I love him. Because he loves me. We’re stupid for each other. We push each other’s buttons, Leann and most days I can barely manage to keep from scratching his eyes out.” She sat up then, scooting to the edge of Leann’s bed. “But other times, we’re still and quiet, laying on each other, me scratching my fingers through his hair and him on top of me, arms around me, protecting me from the world. I couldn’t live without that, Leann. I couldn’t live without that and be really happy.”

Her cousin opened her mouth, waved her hand as though she wanted to make a point, but the loud bang on the door silenced her and then Keira forgot Leann’s worry as soon as she jumped off the bed and opened the door.

Kona took a step and then Keira was around him, legs on his waist and her mouth against his before the door closed. Behind them, Keira heard Leann moving around the room, kicking flowers out of her way as she grabbed her dance bag. Her cousin’s presence barely registered. Keira was too caught up in the feel of Kona’s hands on her back, how tightly he hugged her, his lips on her neck as he mumbled “sorry” and “always” over and over.

Keira caught Leann’s retreat before she slipped out of the room, Keira heard her mutter under her breath, “You two are crazy.”

“We should have waited until you were a hundred percent.” Keira hissed when Kona rubbed the lotion too deeply onto her back. “Shit. Sorry, Wildcat.”

He kissed her just above the freshly inked tattoo and Keira felt the soft bristle of his stubble against her skin. “It’s okay and I’m fine.” She looked over her shoulder and stole a quick kiss. “You worry too much.”

She tried to smooth away that wrinkle between his eyebrows, but it got deeper when Keira closed her eyes, gearing up for another bout of nausea. “See? That’s what I’m talking about,” Kona said. “You’re getting sick again.” He turned her shoulders and pulled her sweater up her back. “You need to rest.”

“I am not relapsing.” But even as she argued, Keira felt her stomach twist, felt the burn of upset rumble. “Ugh.”

“Uh huh.” Kona reached for the trash can and set it next to the bed. “Didn’t you say those girls on the second floor had to miss finals because of they got sick?”

Her boyfriend was insufferable sometimes and Keira could see the worry on his face, that quick lick of tension that told her no amount of lotion rubbing or stolen kisses would have him naked in front of her. Of course, they were at her mother’s lake house and though Christmas was over and her mother and stepdad were still screaming at each other, Kona wouldn’t buy Keira’s promise that they wouldn’t know Keira was naked with her boyfriend in her bedroom.

Still, she had to try. “Let me see how yours is healing.” Keira fought Kona’s hands, batting away her fingers and she smiled, victorious when she got his buttons open.

The tattoo was beautiful, simple and elegant, but still very beautiful. Large looping letters that connected and formed
Ku`u Lei,
my beloved, right over Kona’s heart. The skin was still flaking, still healing, but the black ink had stayed and Keira placed a small kiss over the word, smiling against Kona’s chest when she felt his fingers shifting through her hair.

Kona had taken Keira to Michael’s tattoo shop, first thing Christmas Eve morning, with his fingers tapping against the steering wheel and a suspicious, wide smile making his face look ridiculous.

“Why am I up at ten a.m. on a Wednesday morning when there’s no classes?” When he’d only shrugged, grin splitting wider, she pinched his thigh.

“Ow, you little brat.”

“What are you up to?”

Kona had been
up to
her Christmas present. He’d stood in front of Michael’s workspace, hands slapping together as Leann’s boyfriend finished up the line drawing, but he wouldn’t let Keira see, wouldn’t let her anywhere near them for the half hour it took Michael to ink those letters into his skin. Finally, the work all done, and Kona’s smile had reached Joker levels, he nodded her over as Michael shot the soapy mixture of liquid onto Kona’s left pec.
Ku`u Lei
arched onto his skin and as Keira squinted to look at it, he grabbed her hand.

“It means ‘my beloved.’ That’s you, Wildcat.” Then Keira’s smile matched her boyfriend’s and Michael rolled his eyes, mumbling something about stupid tattoos as he walked away from them. He’d picked it because of the book, she was sure, because it was Morrison’s work that brought them to where they’d been that day. That book had been the catalyst, the true meaning behind what Keira wanted, what she thought Kona could never give her.

Ten minutes after Michael babbled on about cleaning and care, Keira had set her mind and she didn’t listen to Kona’s protest when she told her cousin’s boyfriend what she wanted.

“A hibiscus on the center of your back?” Keira didn’t let Michael’s frown detract her. She ignored his attempts at changing his mind.

“Keira, you don’t have to.” Kona had frowned, but she saw the humor in his eyes; the pleased way he stared at her.

She wanted the flower, something that reminded her of Kona’s home, of the ridiculous petals he tore apart and scattered on her bed, wanted it right on the center of her back because that’s where Kona best liked to kiss her. The flower was beautiful—five orange and red petals highlighted in yellow, and deep green leaves all set in front of beautiful black and hooked swirls of filigree. Keira knew her mother would hate it. She thought it was perfect.

Kona’s fingers tightened in her hair when Keira’s mouth lowered over his nipple and she knew he wanted her to stop. She knew he didn’t want to boost the already high tension in that house. It was an understatement to say her mother had not been pleased when Kona stopped by unexpectedly and she grew overly rude when Keira led Kona to her bedroom, telling Keira she wouldn’t let her “Carry on like a slut” in her house. It was Steven, though, that had stunned them all with his small rebuke against his wife’s cruelty.