Read Thin Love Online

Authors: Eden Butler

Tags: #Contemporary

Thin Love (8 page)

BOOK: Thin Love
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“You wanna fight? Let’s tussle.” The guy wasn’t large, stood only a few inches taller than Keira, but the glint in his eyes was fierce, desperate.

Keira dodged, twisting to the left when he charged her, and fell back, right against the curve of the sidewalk and the protruding screws of the street drain.

“That’s what I thought,” the guy said, laughing at Keira who’d landed in a fresh puddle of rainwater.

“You thought what, motherfucker?” Kona came out of nowhere and in one swipe of his massive hands, Keira’s bag fell to the ground as the thief’s feet left the pavement. “You didn’t seriously just try taking her shit, did you?” The huge linebacker shook the guy once, then squeezed his fingers around the thief’s neck, holding him up with one hand.

“Dude stop… please…” —The guy could barely let the words lift from his mouth before Kona shook him again.

“Stop what? Huh, punk?” Another throttle and the kid started to choke. Bright, red streaks of heat collected on Kona’s cheek. Keira had seen fights before, most of them between her parents before her father took his leave, but she had never seen this. She had never seen the look of pure hatred, of vile loathing in anyone’s expression. It was one Kona wore as he continued to squeeze his large fingers around the guy’s throat.

It was in that moment, with her heart drumming hard, that something twisted in Keira’s brain, something more frightening than being mugged in an alleyway. Instinct should have told her to stop Kona, to plead with him not to hurt the much smaller guy dangling from his hands. But she didn’t. Not immediately. The hot whip of pleasure shot through her veins and the inexplicable, uncontrollable sensation of desire hardened her nipples.

Kona’s violent display completely turned Keira on.

The thief managed to kick at Kona, but the effort was weak, barely registering against Kona’s solid legs. Around them, lights from married housing started to click on and Keira came back to herself, ignored the warm throb pulsing between her legs. She got to her feet, wincing as she stoops down to retrieve her bag. “Kona, stop it,” she told him, coming next to him, but still keeping a good two feet away. He didn’t listen, didn’t relax his grip at all.

The guy tried again, landing slap after slap against Kona’s head, but it had no effect. Keira suddenly realized that she hadn’t wanted to be the cause of something that could turn very bad, so she touched Kona’s shoulder. It was only a graze of her fingertips against his shirt, but the feather touched stopped him.

“Just stop. You’ll kill him,” she told Kona, stepping back when he dropped the guy to the ground.

Kona’s attention was divided between Keira’s cautious, stern voice and the kid at his feet struggling for breath. “Don’t you move, asshole,” he told the thief, but from the look of him, Keira knew the guy couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.

“Are you okay?” Kona shifted his gaze to her, but Keira’s didn’t want to focus on that confused frown on his face.

“I’m fine. My back hurts a little, but I’m okay.” He acted instantly, darting toward the kid on the ground before Keira grabbed his arm, tightening her eyes against the throb that had begun in her back at the movement. “Hey, stop it.” He ignored the moaning, choking kid and stilled as though he’d been leashed. This time, that close contact stopped Keira where she stood. How had she missed it before? Kona’s wide, warm arm beneath her fingers, the rounding of his eyes, was nothing to the sharp lick of fire shooting up her fingers. Her stomach coiled and Keira felt like someone had punched her right in the gut. She didn’t know what it was, had never felt anything like it before. The darkness around them grew dense, weighted and it seemed to Keira that every breath that left her opened mouth, that left Kona’s, froze in the mist around them. It scared her. It scared Kona too, she could tell. His eyes fell to her hand which was still touching him, and Keira forgot about that ache in her back and jerked her arm away, curled her hands into her back pockets.

The moment passed and whatever had moved between them was lost in Kona’s distraction over the guy who was now coming onto his knees. Kona helped him up, but it wasn’t a friendly gesture, more an aggressive lurch on his arm and then a shove against the pine tree behind them. The kid looked like he was going to vomit and his hands immediately went to his bruising neck. But Kona just stood there, glaring down at him.

“You touch this girl, you touch
any
girls again and I’ll find out about it.” He moved his shoulders, a quick threatening jerk, and the thief knocked his head against the tree in his flinch. “You don’t want me finding out about that shit.” One quick twist of his chin and Kona stepped back. “Get out of here before I really get pissed.”

Kona didn’t give Keira a second to analyze what happened or what she felt. Her jeans were a soaking mess and her back felt raw and pulsing, but Kona’s attention seemed distracted, seemed focused on shaking the dirt and grime from her arm, checking her limbs, moving her face as he looked her over. Seeming satisfied that she wasn’t injured, he picked up her backpack and handed it to her.

Keira ignored the lick of fire that had passed between them. It was the adrenaline of her attack, a weird relief that somehow she’d been rescued.
Shit,
she thought.
He saved me like a damn Disney princess.
The thought erased the gut punch pleasure that was still coursing in her stomach. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Mouth open, coming up in a small scowl, Kona shook his head as though he’d expected a thank you and not Keira’s bitching. “He was trying to gank your stuff.”

Keira slapped the dirt from her backpack, ignoring Kona’s words. “And you didn’t have to follow me.”

“It’s a good thing I did. You couldn’t have handled that shit.”

She wouldn’t let him be the hero. At least, not more than he’d already had been. Keira knew her face was flaming, knew that her embarrassment at needing a rescue was something Kona wouldn’t understand. She was tired already, from the long night in the library, from the shock of her attack, and could only manage a quick, self-deprecating nod in Kona’s direction before she turned around, intending to head straight to her dorm room. But two steps seemed one too many and Keira flinched, her back seizing up.

Kona darted behind her, holding her arms under his larger fingers. “What is it? You hurt?”

“Probably just a bruise. It’s nothing.”

Kona disregarded Keira’s half-hearted attempts to pull out of his touch when he grabbed her elbow. “Come on, we’re taking you to the infirmary.”

“No, we aren’t,” she said, twisting her slim arm out of his grip. She looked over her shoulder to check it there was any blood on her shirt and again the pain rose up, making her wince. Kona pulled her along the sidewalk, that strong hand on her arm again and she stopped walking, stepping away from him. They’d only spent an hour or so together tonight, but Keira knew already that he was stubborn. Shoulders slumping, she tried to convince him she’d had enough rescuing for the night. “It was just a bump against the busted drain. There’s not even any blood.”

“You don’t know for sure.”

“You’re being paranoid.” Kona’s eyes narrowed and those deep dimples in his cheeks faded. She knew brushing him off wouldn’t work, so she tried making him see reason. “Think about it… you take me to the infirmary and they’ll ask questions. I kind of figured you don’t want anyone on your team or your coaches to know you choked some skinny punk.”

Kona bit the inside of his cheek and rested his hands at his hips, gaze moving to street drain that had caused Keira’s injury. Finally, as though he’d finished whatever asinine examination moved through his thoughts, Kona looked back at her. “Fine, let’s go to your room so I can check it out.”

“What?” He was crazy. There was no way she was going to let him into her room. She could manage on her own. She’d wait until Leann was back, but one glance at the determined set of Kona’s mouth and that high arching eyebrow told Keira he wouldn’t go for that either. “You’re not coming into my room.” She thought her voice was strong, but when she said “my room” the words came out high-pitched and cracked, destroying any meager attempts to sound firm.

Kona acted as though Keira hadn’t said anything. He just took her arm and led her toward her building, his grip easy, but still steady. “If I wanted in your room, believe me, I could get in. Besides, you won’t be able to check for yourself.”

“I can.” She tried twisting away from him again, but not only did it cause sharp twinges in her back, his grip was like a vice on her elbow.

“You double jointed or something?” For the first time since Kona had nearly choked that kid, the frown left his face, replaced by what Keira could only guess was a wistful grin of hope.

“I can get one of the girls to help me.”

“Keira, I watched you.” He stopped them just before they reached the bottom steps of her building, but did not release her arm. “You don’t even look up when you’re walking down the sidewalk. You don’t smile and acknowledge anybody. The only person I’ve ever seen you with is that Leann girl in class. I highly doubt you’re cool with the girls in your dorm. Stop being pigheaded and let’s check this out.”

 

 

Kona had been in many dorm rooms. CPU girls didn’t have a problem letting him hang out, in fact, they encouraged it. There had been that redhead from Spencer who practically sat on his lap when he told her he had to leave and the blonde from Easton that invited him over at two a.m. Her opening the door completely naked had been something akin to the warmest welcome he’d ever gotten.

To him, going into a girl’s dorm usually only meant one thing; the thing he loved most. The thing that most twenty-year-old guys loved most. But Kona wasn’t in Keira’s dorm for that. He’d like to be, maybe, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

In all those
slipping-in-for-a-little-hey-now
times he’d been to the girls’ dorm-side of campus, he’d never once bothered to give more than a passing glance at how they lived. Most times, he barely took note of the color of their walls or the fluffy pillows and the feel of their sheets.

“Give me a second,” Keira said, waving him in before she threw her bag onto her bed and headed to the bathroom. Keira didn’t have fluffy pillows and her bed was made up like a soldier’s, corners tight, and a simple white comforter with small blue pillows lined against the headboard.

The room was divided with Keira’s bed on the right and her roommate’s on the left. The difference between the two was enormous. Where Keira’s side was uniformed, bordering on obsessively organized, her roommate’s was chaos. Shoes on the left side of the room where thrown haphazardly under the bed and discarded shirts, skirts and bras littered the unmade bed. Keira’s shoes were neatly stacked on a white shoe rack next to her desk and a dark wood dresser was next to the door with only a small silver box and two framed pictures on top of it.

In one of the frames, Kona spotted a smiling Keira, probably ten or so years younger with her arm around the waist of a man that had to be a relative. Standing on the deck of the paddleboat, the Creole Queen, with the Mississippi River wide and endless behind them, they had the same smile, the same bright, round blue eyes and both stared at the camera with their heads tilted to the right. Kona thought Keira hadn’t changed much since that picture was taken. Sure, she’d grown, her hips were now wider, her limbs longer, but her face looked much the same—open, honest with the faintest spattering of freckles dotted sparsely over her cheeks.

Next to that picture was a current one of Keira wearing a fairy costume with wide, green wings and glitter intricately arranged around her eyes. She was smirking, not smiling wide as though she was happy, but she still looked friendly, relaxed. At her side was that Leann girl Kona had always seen her with, dressed in coordinating fairy wings, blue with yellow edges. Upon closer inspection of both faces, Kona saw similarities—Leann’s hair was lighter, thinner and her eyes weren’t quite as round or as blue, but the high cheekbones were the same, as was the arch of their noses and the full pout of their lips.

“My cousin, Leann. We room together,” Keira said, coming to stand next to Kona. He nodded, but made his gaze return to the picture of Keira as a little girl. The frame was cold in his hand when he picked it up and he motioned the picture toward her, curious.

Kona noticed that Keira’s face softened when her eyes ran over the picture, that the straight line of her mouth was less severe. After a few seconds, she blinked and looked up at him. “My dad.” She took the picture from Kona, kept her gaze on the glass for a few seconds, thumb moving over the man’s face, before she replaced it on her dresser.

“When did he die?” His question surprised her, and the soft edges of her faint smile twisted into a frown. “You’d make a crap actor, Keira. Everything you’re thinking is all over your face.” Kona moved his chin toward the picture, but didn’t take his eyes off her expression. “No way you’d look at your dad like that if he was still around.”

She exhaled, shoved the hair off her shoulder and when she spoke, her voice was low, so low in fact that Kona thought she didn’t want him hearing her. “I was ten.” Then louder, she said, “I don’t talk about it.”

BOOK: Thin Love
13.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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