The woman was unreasonable. Keira slammed Professor Alana’s door, not caring that the she might be annoyed by the rattle of the wood on the hinges.

“Ms. Riley, the deadline cannot be extended,” she’d said.

“Ridiculous.” Keira marched down the hallway before she came to the large wooden staircase that led into the Kenner Hall lobby. “Two hours. I asked for two freaking hours.”

Her history professor had changed the assignment, and with Keira’s practice schedule doubling in preparation for that weekend’s meet against Loyola, she had forgotten about her journal entry on the War of 1812.

The tiled lobby floor was wet, with slick puddles of water collecting around the entrance as students ran inside, trying to avoid the storm. Keira looked through the glass doors, toward the dark clouds, the quick strikes of lightning as it broke across the sky, and she thought the murky look of the dark day matched her mood. It hadn’t been a good week so far.  

She’d forgotten her umbrella this morning, something she knew better than to do. No kid raised in Louisiana should ever be without their umbrella during hurricane season, and she was thinking of making a dash through the torrential weather, possibly hide out in the library just across the street, when she heard someone behind her whistle. It was a sloppy rendition of “Hypnotize” by The Notorious B.I.G., and the way the guy’s whistle was a beat too quick only made Keira’s already gray mood darken.

“You could probably make it across the street,” the guy behind her said, “but you’re gonna get soaked.”

She hadn’t mentally prepared to see him yet. The hours between now and their planned meeting would have given her time enough to calm her frayed nerves. But there Kona was, leaning next to her on the window, backpack thrown over one shoulder and a ridiculous smile on his face.

“What do you want?” She didn’t care that she sounded angry. She didn’t care that Kona’s smile faltered or that his eyes slipped nearly closed at her attitude.

Again he whistled, but this time it wasn’t a song. He was mocking her. “Are you always so bitchy?”

“No.” She turned back, eyes drifting up the stairs to glare at Professor Alana’s door. “That witch pissed me off.”

Kona turned, gaze shooting up in the direction of Alana’s office. “She does that.” The grin returned, and he shrugged.

Keira ignored him for a moment, directing her attention back to the clouds outside, to the way sheets of water were now flooding the sidewalk. “She doesn’t like me, for some ungodly reason. I can’t get her to give me an extension on my assignment.”

“She won’t do that. She isn’t into tardiness. She’s kind of a Nazi about it.”

“You had her before?”

“No, thank God.”

“Then how do you know?”

That grin was dangerous now, stretching so wide that the deep, deep dimples in his cheeks were the only things she noticed on his tan face. “She’s my mom.”

“Oh.” Keira saw the blush on her face in the window, and she tried to make her voice softer, to par back her harsh tone. “I—I didn’t know. Sorry I called her a witch.”

With that, Kona laughed, two small chuckles before he followed Keira’s gaze and stared out of the window, watching the stream of rain as it slid against the glass. “Don’t be. She is a witch. She’s tough, but she’s good. And she’s always right.”

It didn’t seem logical to her. How could Alana have a son who was so flippant about his classes? She didn’t seem like the type of woman who tolerated anything but perfection. So where had she failed Kona? “You know, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

Keira let her eyes inch to the side, then right into Kona’s gaze. “You being her son. I’d think her son wouldn’t be such a slacker.”

He exhaled, pulling his backpack further up his shoulder as though he was tired of hearing that insult. “I’m not. Not really. And you really need to let that shit go. I forgot about our meeting. I didn’t do it on purpose. Practice ran over.”

Excuses. Keira hated them, and she wasn’t surprised that Kona had one readily available. “Whatever. Are you going to make it tonight?”

“I’ll be there.” She couldn’t see her own expression in the window, but she knew something in it told Kona that she didn’t believe him. When she frowned at him, he rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

Keira was done listening to him. Kona Hale was an obnoxious jackass, and she had no idea why he was standing next to her, a little too close, smelling too good. Head against the cool glass, Keira closed her eyes. If she concentrated, wished hard enough, maybe she’d open her eyes and he’d be gone. Maybe she would. Positive projection, Leann had told her, would manifest whatever she wanted. Right then, with Kona Hale’s thick, distracting scent fanning down against her, Keira decided to let the day go. There were no bitchy professors being unreasonable. There were no drenching rainstorms for idiots who forgot their umbrellas. There was no slacker football player waiting for her to blush, to stick her foot in her mouth so he could leap in with an insult or a dismissive excuse why he couldn’t help with their project.

One calm breath and her gaze went to him. Disappointed that Leanna’s new age juju hadn’t worked, Keira moved through the lobby door. Outside, she leaned against the brick surface of the building just under the wide entrance alcove, debating how quickly she’d have to run to get across the street. Kona slid next to her, his elbow bumping against her arm. She couldn’t help the frown. One seemed to always be on her face.

“What do you want?”

“God, you’re the most uptight person I’ve ever met.”

“We haven’t met, not really.” Then, she decided to be smug, see how his ego would deflate if she embarrassed him. “Oh, wait. We have. I seem to recall you in the locker room getting serviced.”

For a moment, Kona looked at her as though she was speaking Klingon, but that confused low squint stilled, and then laughter bubbled from his chest. “Oh, shit.” He grabbed his stomach, bending over. “Oh, man. That was you?” His amusement was annoying, and he still had zero shame. “Damn. I’m sorry,” he said, smile widening as she shook her head at him.

She crossed her arms, stepping further away from his stupid smile. When he pulled on her arm, tugging the sleeve of her gray jacket, Keira jumped, slipped once on the wet steps and fell right back into Kona. He held her for a moment, hands circling her waist. She could feel how wide they were, how his long, large fingers held tight, dug next to her hipbones. Standing that close to him, she could smell the heavy scent of cologne on his shirt and felt the curved contours of his chest against her neck. She looked up, her chin moving so that her mouth was inches from his.  She blinked quickly, wondering why his grip on her waist had tightened, why she felt transfixed as he pulled in his bottom lip under his teeth. When a small chuckle vibrated in his throat, Keira jerked out of his arms, wiggling forward until he released her.

His stare was cool, unaffected, but in her peripheral she noticed him balling one hand into a fist, as though he was trying to get rid of the memory of how she’d felt against him. “Hey. Listen, I’m sorry my mom was a bitch to you. I’m sorry you walked in on Lydia Kemp blowing me.” Keira scrunched her nose, and Kona laughed again before he held up his hands. “I’m sorry I missed our meeting.” He took a step, forcing Keira to look away from him, returning her gaze back onto the soaking sidewalk. “Lunch? My treat.”

“No, I’m good.” The answer was automatic.

He made a noise, somewhere between a half-attempted laugh and a cough before he spoke. “Wait. What?”

“I said I’m good.” Keira had to refrain from laughing at Kona when she caught his expression. His mouth hung open, brows together so that the space between his eyebrows wrinkled. “What’s the matter? Not used to hearing no?”

“Not from girls, no, I’m not.”

“First time for everything.” She shrugged, pulling up the hood on her jacket. “I told you, I’m in a bad mood and, to be honest, I don’t like you.”

He laughed again, the sound peppered with disbelief, maybe a hint of real amusement. “Shit. You’re blunt as hell.” Another shrug and Kona’s laughter increased. “It’s just lunch. I’m not asking to see you naked.” Keira felt her cheeks heat like a fever had suddenly flashed through her blood, and she cursed her pale skin that never hid a blush. One quick glance at his smile, and then Kona’s laugh only became fuller, deeper. “Damn,” he said, stepping next to her. He stood so close to her that Keira felt his breath warming her chilled skin. “You’re cute when you get all flustered like that.”

“Shut up.” She walked away from him, onto the edge of the steps, and a steady stream of rain began to sprinkle off the edge of the building and onto her hood.

“Hey, don’t walk away. I don’t even know your name.”

A rare smile worked over her face, and Keira tried to hide it, to push it off her lips because she didn’t know why it was there or why Kona Hale, of all people, had forced it out of her. Her dismissal had wiped the obnoxious grin from his mouth. That, she thought, could have invited her smile, but she didn’t let herself linger on it. She was too caught up in how he stared after her, how he seemed eager to figure her out. “You would if you paid attention in class.” Keira jogged down the rest of the steps but stopped long enough to throw her gaze over her shoulder, catching how Kona’s eyes were focused on her ass. Seeing her pause, his attention returned to her face, and that grin made a comeback. “Don’t be late tonight.”

 

Kona had only been at CPU for half a semester, and this was the first time he’d ever been to the library. He didn’t need it. If there was research to do for any of his classes, he usually went into his mother’s office and worked on her computer. But this place was nice, he thought. He’d been in hundreds of libraries, usually when his mother’s sabbaticals had taken him and his brother everywhere from Canada to their island back in Hawaii.

The floors were marble and shone like a mirror, even with the random CAUTION: WET FLOOR signs littering every corner. The lobby seemed endless, with rows of thick, wooden tables lining either side of the room and sections of upholstered chairs and couches circling the two large staircases.

He sat in the lobby on a brown leather couch waiting for that girl—Keira he’d discovered her name was—to make an appearance. For all her bitching about him missing their first meeting and her anxious bullshit about him fucking up her grade, the little brat was late.

He checked his watch, a worn leather and gold thing his grandfather had carried in Korea, and saw that Keira was running ten minutes behind. Kona wondered if she was testing him, was going to leave him hanging alone in the library, but then immediately figured she didn’t have the nerve. He laughed at that, at her anal demeanor and the rigid way he’d noticed she carried herself.

Kona closed his eyes, remembering her earlier that day, rain-soaked, and those tight jeans she wore clinging to her muscular legs and sweet, plump ass. Damn if the girl wasn’t hot. A little bit of a bitch, but still hot. She had potential, that was for sure. He caught enough of a glance at her that night in the cafeteria when she was fresh from the track and her face had gone all pink and flushed, and again today when he flirted with her, and her skin had turned red and blotchy. He liked that he did that to her. He did that to most girls, but Keira didn’t seem like the other girls he’d messed with. She didn’t know what she was, how a rare little smile and the quick intake of breath—which pushed up her round tits—could have any guy panting after her like a dog.

Where had that come from? He wondered, moving his head back against the couch. He pushed Keira and any thoughts of her body out of his head, especially the idea that she had seen him in the showers that day. Thoughts started to trail to the steamy locker room and Keira in front of him instead of Lydia, and he had to rub his palms into his eyes to dispel the image. He didn’t need the distraction she could easily cause him if he sat there thinking about her.

Above him, the high glass ceiling reflected a murky night and the few intermittent fractures of lightning in the sky. The library was quiet and gave Kona a few minutes to think, for a change. His room at the team house was rarely quiet; the silence in the library was a welcome break from the activity that seemed to always be at his place. There were no loud, roughhousing football players screaming at something on the TV or an endless parade of girls flitting in and out of whoever’s room they’d eventually pass out in.

He closed his eyes when the quick whiff of jasmine hit his nose. It was a familiar scent, something his mom kept in her garden. The sound of the steady clip of heels coming closer accompanied the scent, announcing the girl's arrival.

“Well, I think we might get snow.” Keira’s voice sounded just next to Kona’s head, and he smiled at the tone. It was soothing, with a hint of melody behind the inflection, and he didn’t have to look at her to know she’d calmed down from her earlier mood.

Relaxed against the sofa, head still reclined back and legs spread so that no one would be tempted to sit next to him, Kona smiled at the dig he knew was meant for him. “Is that supposed to be a joke about me being here?”

 “It’d only rain since you’re here.” She flopped next to him on the couch, moving his leg to make room for herself. She was bold, a little bolder than she had been that first day in class, and he understood that she was likely putting up a good show, trying to convince him that he didn’t intimidate her at all. “It’ll snow because you made it before me.”

“Funny. Real funny.” Kona moved his head to the side and had to quickly close his open mouth when he opened his eyes to look at Keira. The oversized jacket was gone. She looked comfortable, relaxed, wearing a simple light blue cardigan that fell just above her hips. She didn’t look like she put up much of an effort getting ready for their meeting, but she did look good: hair straight and slick, soft against her shoulders, jeans crisp and starched. It was only the third time he’d seen her away from their class, and Kona figured the big hoodies were simply an early morning routine. In normal clothes, she looked good. But she didn’t wear a stitch of makeup, and her face was scrubbed clean, as though she’d just hopped out of the shower. “You look nice,” Kona exhaled, releasing an unconscious grunt when Keira narrowed her eyes, hiding the bright blue irises, as though she wanted to figure out his angle. “What? I can’t pay you a compliment?”

“Not without me thinking you’re plotting something.”

Laughing, Kona held up his hands, surrendering defeat before she could accuse him of anything shifty. “I am plotless tonight, I swear.”

“Mmmhmm. I don’t buy it.” When she stood, hefting a large, black backpack onto her shoulder, Kona followed her, walked two steps behind her so he could watch the subtle sway of her hips and catch a glimpse of the slight jiggle in her ass. He blinked twice, yanking his attention away from her posterior when Keira led them into the elevator. “I reserved a study room on the third floor.”

“I thought they only held those for grad students.”

“And honor students,” she explained, pounding twice on the button as though it would hurry the trip up the floors.

“Figures,” he said, leaning against the metal wall.

“What was that?” Those squinted eyes came back, and Kona shook his head, ignoring how Keira had straightened her shoulders, preparing for an argument.

“Nothing.” He didn’t want to piss her off again. Fighting with some girl in the library would get back to his mother, and he could really do without the endless bitching he knew would follow.

When the elevator doors opened, they settled into the tiny room with a small table and two chairs. There was barely space enough for both of them, and Kona let Keira sit first, let her pull out her notebook and pen, before he sat across from her. He watched her expression when he moved the door closed, but she didn’t argue, didn’t seem nervous about being alone with him in the confined space. Never mind that the walls were glass, that nothing shocking could go on in one of these rooms without everyone on the floor getting an eyeful.

Kona pushed the lingering, bawdy thought from his mind, not wanting to let the image of the girl over him—better still, under him—play on with too much detail. This girl was hot, but she wouldn’t be down for what he wanted. He could tell. Keira was just too uptight to have any kind of fun with him.

“Okay, we need to set up a schedule. We’ll have to connect the legends, or at least thematic elements in them, with a contemporary work with the same elements. So, write down whatever pops into your head, and what you’re willing to do, and we can work a schedule accordingly. I’ll type it up this weekend.” Her voice was clear, firm, and Kona got that this was Keira getting down to business. She wasn’t awkward now, wasn’t blushing like a virgin on her wedding night as he looked over her features. He kind of liked her taking charge. It didn’t happen often when he interacted with girls.

“This weekend?” he asked, amazed but not really surprised that Keira was the type to spend her free time studying. “You plan on working all weekend?”

“No, I have a meet on Saturday morning. After that I plan on working.”

He shook his head and leaned back against the chair, one arm resting behind him. “Not going to celebrate our win?”

When Keira only frowned, Kona thought he might have annoyed her. She did this funny thing with her mouth—a twitch of her bottom lip and then a deep frown—when she was debating something, as though whatever she was thinking had to be weighed and sorted in her head before she decided to speak. Yep, crazy uptight, he thought.

“That statement implies a lot of assumption.” Keira pointed at him with her pen to emphasize her argument.

“We’re going to win.” That shouldn’t have been in doubt. Even though the season had just started, everyone on campus knew that they had yet to lose a game. This weekend they played LSU. Gerry DiNardo’s team was having a shitty season. They were currently ranked at 15 and CPU, at number 3, was faster, more elusive. No way would the Tigers beat them.

“That’s one assumption,” Keira said, waving her pen as though she didn’t care about the game. “But you assume I follow football. I don’t.”

Kona blinked at her, astounded. “What?” She leaned back when he rested his elbows on the table and worked his gaze over her face. He wanted to see if his bullshit detector went off. She had to be messing with him. Even the most self-absorbed gold diggers on campus followed the team. Everyone did. It was a given. “You do know you’re attending the university whose football team has won the Sugar Bowl the last three years straight?”

“No, I’m attending the university whose English department has a sister program with Oxford.”

“That’s…seriously?”

“Seriously.” Keira’s expression remained controlled. There was no twitch moving her lips, no understated tic in her composed expression that told him she was joking.

It made sense, when he thought about it. He’d watched her in class, watched how she and that Leann girl kept to themselves, only speaking to Miller when he asked them direct questions. She got off on the literature shit their professor droned on about endlessly. And from what he’d learned about Keira today, when he flirted for information with a few girls on the cross country team, only confirmed what he had guessed. Keira didn’t have many friends; she kept to herself, seemed to always be in the library or locked up in her dorm. “That explains so much.”

“What does?” For just a second that control slipped, her unflustered expression fractured and the relaxed set of her features jumped to worry, but it disappeared before Kona could mention it. 

“You. Figures someone like you wouldn’t be into sports and would have a hard-on for old, dead white guys who wrote plays and sonnets.”

That earned him a smile, but just a small one. Keira dropped the pen and folded her fingers on top of the table, just inches from his hands. “And what about you? I bet your major is something like Advanced Throwing or Caveman Studies.”

Her dig surprised him, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. “You’re funny. No seriously, you’re freakin’ hilarious.”

“Right back at you.” Kona laughed at the exaggerated roll of Keira’s eyes, and he decided right then he liked her relaxed. He liked the way her normally stoic expression softened the hard stretch of her cheeks, how when she found something funny those blue eyes of hers seemed lighter, nearly gray. But then he stared a second too long at her, and Keira stopped smiling. That newborn softened expression melted from her face. “What?” Her voice was sharp, defensive.

He sighed and moved his head in a shake. “You got a real problem interacting with people, right?”

“I’m fine with people. It’s you I’m not crazy about.”

“What did I ever do to you?” The glare she gave him told him she still hadn’t forgiven him for standing her up. “Aside from missing our first meeting.”

“I don’t like players, and I don’t like entitled jackasses.”

Ouch, he thought, wondering exactly what she’d heard about him. He thought the “entitled” comment was this side of ridiculous. “Whoa, hold on a second. You think I’m a player?”

“You offered to do me if I did this project on my own.”

“Did I say that?”

The blush returned, colored her smooth skin as though she thought she might had misinterpreted Kona’s not so subtle offer that first day in class, but when he smiled at her, she recovered, hid her embarrassment behind her fingers over her cheeks. “You didn’t have to. It was in your eyes.”

Kona liked teasing her, liked seeing that pretty flush warm her skin. At her suggestion, he thought he’d push her a little further to see just how pink her cheeks would get. “That’s your own perverted mind, sweetheart. How do you know I wasn’t talking about tickets to the game or offering to wash your car?”

“You licked your lips and looked like you wanted to eat me whole.”

Now there’s a good idea, he thought. “You offering?”

Keira’s laugh seemed real. She didn’t hide behind anything just then. She didn’t look away from him, or dip her head like she couldn’t manage to stare at him head on. And Kona took that laugh and the insult behind it, because he liked her smile, he liked how her laughter was sweet, sexy.

“You really are full of yourself.”

“You don’t know me.” He knocked his knuckles against her wrist so that she’d know he wasn’t pissed.

“And you don’t know me.” Keira cleared her throat, as though she wanted to push back her humor and the smile Kona had raised in her. Pen in hand, she pulled the notebook toward her and tapped the end against the white paper. “So why don’t we stop chatting and get through this. The sooner it’s over, the quicker we can go back to acting like we don’t know each other.”

“There’s a problem with that.” When she frowned again, seeming a little confused that he was challenging her, Kona made sure his smile was sweet and not flirty, that he didn’t bite his lip. “Maybe I want to know you now. You’re angry, maybe I want to know why that is. I like girls who don’t put up with shit.”

“Sounds like you’ve got some mommy issues.” Kona’s smile shifted swiftly, and Keira grabbed his hand, gave it a playful shove. “Hey, that was a joke. You know, funny, ha ha?”

“Yeah. I’m in freakin’ stitches. How would you like me trashing your mom?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t care.” She sat back, withdrew from the good nature of their interaction, and Kona knew he’d hit a nerve. “I know what a domineering bitch my mom is. Go ahead and insult her all you like.”

“Well, that’s just sad.”

“Spare me your sympathy.”

Kona wasn’t good with awkward silences. Really, he hadn’t experienced many of them. He always seemed able to take the funk out of any girl he’d pissed off or lighten the mood with a little flirting, maybe some mild touching. But Keira wasn’t like the girls he’d been around. She didn’t do bullshit pacifying. She was blunt, and he liked that about her, but he also knew there was a reason she rarely smiled. He didn’t know her well enough to ask where that came from, so he relied on what he was good at, on the skills that never failed to keep girls happy when he was around them.

“Hey, what do you call a dog with no legs?”

“What the—”

“You can call him anything you want, but that asshole ain’t coming to you.”

And just like that, the awkwardness passed. Keira’s laughter returned, and despite the dumbass joke, Kona smiled, liking that she wasn’t so uptight that she didn’t dismiss his attempt to lighten the mood.

“Oh, that’s bad.”

“I know, but it made you smile.” He pulled out his own pen and moved Keira’s notebook around so he could write on it. “Come on, let’s get this shit done.”