Thin Love(107)

“Why don’t you sing for me?” he asked, and Keira had not expected that question.

“What?”

“You never sing for me. I’ve heard you through your door and I know you play for Leann, but you never give me that. You let me inside, Wildcat.” Kona fingered the neck of her t-shirt and let his palm rest over her heart. “But you never let me inside. Why?”

They’d slept together in her tiny dorm bed and some nights, when Kona snored at her side, Keira would look at him, really look at him—at that perfect, chiseled face and the small brown spots that dotted over his cheeks—and she’d mouthed the words she’d written just for him. Other times, she’d hum them, sliding up the notes, hoping that they filtered into his dreams; a soft whisper of everything she felt for him. But she had never been brave enough to sing when he was awake.

When Keira didn’t answer, Kona rolled onto her pillow, moving his arm across his forehead. “It’s fine, Wildcat.”

Now who’s running?

He held her hips when she straddled him, but the worry was still in his eyes, the worry and the frustration and Keira wanted that tension gone. It was time. It was past time.

“Kona?” His eyes came up, caught hers and he waited. “I’ve never loved anything like I love you.” The corner of his mouth lifted and Keira smiled at the release of some of his worry. “Mine is thick too and sometimes it scares me. Sometimes I think I know what Paul D. meant.” Keira settled lower over him, chin on his chest and she liked that Kona played with her hair, that he pretended she couldn’t feel how quickly his heart pounded. “I love you like a song,” she said, knowing he’d understand what that meant, knowing he knew she couldn’t love anything more. She kissed him and sighed against his mouth when Kona’s arms came around her waist, loving how tightly he held her to him. “My father taught me this song when I was eight and it broke my heart. I only sing it when I wanna remember how good that felt.”

Keira left the bed with Kona sitting up against the headboard. She sat in front of him with her Gibson on her lap and her fingers strumming against those familiar strings. “This is how much I love you.” The intro came back to her easier than blinking, that heart plucked vibration she’d heard in her dream. She kept her voice low, the strumming light, but her eyes didn’t move from his face as she sang about the love she wanted to give him; about the crazy love that was meant for him alone.





Keira felt stupid. Her head throbbed and she swore she could see her pulse pounding in her eyes. Small flurries of black dots flicked across her vision and for the third time in a row, she sneezed. It was dumb to huddle in the stadium, near the fifty yard line right alongside the other idiots, just to watch her boyfriend running around the field.

Winter camp held over the long weeks between the end of the regular season and the playoffs. At least, that’s what she’d gathered from Kona’s promise that the camp was very important. His enthusiasm made her want to be there, despite the worsening sickness that clogged her sinuses and made her lightheaded.

She was pretty sure she had a fever, was even more certain that those frowns Kona wore each time she sneezed were meant for her. But he had worked so hard since he’d been benched and wanted so much to play and play well. Kona had sworn he hadn’t touched a needle since she caught him in the locker room. His doubled efforts and late nights in the weight room had been proof enough for her. So what if she felt a little shitty? He was her boyfriend and she wanted him to know she supported him. Even if it was in something as mind numbing as football.

The stadium wasn’t filled to capacity, but the open practice had drawn several pro scouts and a large cluster of alumni, many of whom gave passing greetings to her and made brief, superficial inquiries about her mother and stepdad. Still, despite the small crowd, Keira felt out of place.

She pulled the wool blanket further around her shoulders and when she caught a whiff of that scratchy texture, another sneeze shot out of her mouth. Keira didn’t bother to watch for Kona’s glare, she could feel it as he rounded the corner of the field and ran past her.

“You sound like death.” Luka had lost his uniform and was bundled up in a thick jacket and dark jeans as he slumped in the seat next to her.

“I’ll live.”

“So this is what love looks like?” Keira shook her head at Luka’s wrinkled nose as he waved his hand in her direction. “I’ll pass, I think.”

She felt another sneeze threatening, itching in her nostrils and Keira dug a Kleenex out of her coat pocket. “Is… is…” She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the sensation in her sinuses and the urge to sneeze passed. “Is that your way of saying I look like shit?”