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.”
“You wanna?”
“That’s not funny. None of this is funny!” He started to reach for her, but moved his hand away when she slipped toward the foot of her bed. “You’re killing yourself and I’m not going to watch you do it.” Keira thought that should settle things. She thought her voice was strong, determined, that the grip of the door in her hand when she walked to it told Kona enough, told him she was done talking. There was a slight feeling relief on her skin from the heat of her room with the door opened. “Get out.”
Keira thought that expression on Kona’s face told her he would leave. She thought his quick movement toward the door guaranteed he was done trying to convince her they belonged together, but then Kona pulled the door out of her hand and slammed it shut. “I don’t run. You haven’t figured that out about me yet? I don’t run away from my shit.”