“Do not even try it. Walk away.”
“Would you let me explain?”
She laughed at him, disgusted at herself, at him, at the useless hope that she held onto as she followed Luka through the city toward Lucy’s. Once again Kona had proved he would never change.
“There’s nothing to explain, Kona. You doing what you always do isn’t a surprise to anyone.” He looked like she’d slapped him and she was glad, for three full seconds, that she’d stung him. Then Kona’s face screwed up into something like a frown, it could have been a scowl. Keira planned to not stick around to find out. She gave him her back, made a double effort to find her keys in her deep pockets and was nearly to her Pontiac when Kona’s shout rang out behind.
“I don’t fucking want anyone but you!”
Did he think she was stupid? Did he honestly think what she’d seen him doing tonight could be explained?
She turned around, bottle still in hand. She wanted so badly to slap him. Her fingers itched to do it, but then Kona moved quick, coming in front of her like a man ready to plead for his life with the executioner.
“I know what you saw. I know what it looked like, but Keira, my head isn’t on right tonight. I’m…” he growled, hands shaking as he turned away from her and kicked the plastic trashcan against the brick wall. Bending to catch his breath, Kona looked like he might vomit.
“You’re not capable, Kona.” She took a step, her voice softer, but her anger saturated that calm tone. “I’m not an idiot. I see how your eyes wander. I see the attention you get. And that’s fine.”
Kona stood up then, gaze whipping to her like he knew a threat was coming. Keira ignored that look, ignored how straight he held himself, how he stood with his feet apart ready for an attack. “What do you mean, ‘that’s fine’?” He managed a smile that was both hopeful and suspicious.
Keira blinked and the image of the redhead and Kona’s mouth on her chest had her squirming. “You do what you want. I will too.”
The smile dropped from his face.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You think you’re the only one to notice me? You think I don’t get offers? I have choices, Kona. You’re not my only option.”
“Who, Keira?” His voice was calm, too calm and Keira knew that expression; she recognized his anger, the vivid, suspicious imagination. She guess that inside Kona’s head were paranoid images that probably made his stomach roll: Keira’s mouth on an unfamiliar chest; her hands sliding up shoulders, arms, too small to be his. He took a step closer and Keira didn’t back down from that frown, from the hard, uneven breath that shot from his flared nostrils. “Who?” His voice was louder then, so sharp and demanding that Keira flinched at the sound.
But she wasn’t a coward and she’d never been threatened by his temper. In fact, most times, she responded to it, got off, just a little bit, on it. More than she’d like to admit, she loved making that temper worse.
“None of your fucking business. Just go, Kona. Leave me alone. I’m leaving. Maybe I’ll stop by a bar. Maybe I’ll make a call.”
“Like hell you will.”
She didn’t bother responding to his jealous command, didn’t even give him the annoyed little glare she normally leveled at him. Instead, Keira shook her head, intent on putting space between them. But she barely managed two steps, maybe three before his grip was on her arm, spinning her around, giving her no space, no chance to back away from him.
“Don’t you walk away from me.” Keira could see the wild desperation in his eyes; the possessive nature that flicked forward. It thundered a dichotomy of emotions into her mind—rage, insult, passion.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re acting like a crazy person.” She jerked back from him, spilled beer on his shirt and Kona’s hold loosened. “I’m not yours, Kona. I’ll never be yours.” She knew the lie was weak, pathetic, she knew that the temper stirring on his face was growing and though she knew it was stupid to provoke him, she couldn’t help herself. Some dark, quiet part of her loved how eager, how frantic he looked.
Kona’s frown was severe, and from his body, Keira could feel his rage, the quick whip of anger that she loved seeing from him. She was playing with fire, standing so close to it that she felt her skin blister. She stepped back, their burning glances hard, challenging before there was enough space between them.
“Where are you going?”
Keira felt drunk, fueled by insult, by lust and the words were out of her mouth before her brain had given them permission to leave. “I’m going to check on those other offers.” She walked backward, a calculating, forced mock of a smile on her face. “You know Luka looked good tonight. Maybe I’ll go see what he’s up to.”