She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. It had been like that for nearly two weeks, and the smile Keira wore that day as she left Kenner Hall, her arms loaded down with folders and notes for her Arthurian Studies presentation, had little to do with how she and Kona kicked ass. It was him. He put that smile on her face every day since they’d been “hanging out.” It was a stupid phrase, one that flew out of her mouth anytime Leann badgered her about what was going on between her and Kona, but it stuck, and that was the only definition Keira would allow herself.

Hanging out with Kona Hale meant a lot of late nights, a lot of slapping his hand off her ass or shoving that imposing chest with her elbow because he wouldn’t focus on their presentation. They ate lunch together in the cafeteria, away from Leann, away from Kona’s football friends, ignoring the quick stares they drew. They worked in the library after practice, sweaty and stinky. Kona never failed to follow her down a dark stack of books, trying to kiss her, trying to get her to touch him despite how dirty and worn out they both were. He was insatiable, and Keira couldn’t help herself, she loved the attention. But, yes, they were only hanging out.

Movie dates and parking for hours, nearly naked in his Camaro, still qualified as hanging out, right?

She was nearly to the door, trying to hurry to Kona’s car to dump off all her stuff before they had a celebration lunch for landing an A on their presentation, when someone moved to stand in front of her. Someone female, someone tall and too thin. Someone with bleached blonde hair. Someone Keira had seen slithering out of Kona’s bedroom weeks ago.

“I just wanted to let you know, he’s going to get bored of you.” Tonya Lucas pulled the smile right off Keira’s face. She’d spent every class period since that day at the team house glaring at Keira or making snide comments anytime Keira and Kona sat together to work in class on their presentation. Kona told Keira to ignore her, that Tonya was a common, jealous bitch, but today it seemed the girl wanted to level up her insults.

“I really don’t need you in my business.” Keira stepped to the side, trying to go around her and exit the building, but Tonya slipped back in front of her, blocking her escape. Outside, Keira could see Kona sitting on the hood of his Camaro, glancing toward the building as he waited for her. She’d barely managed to get him to leave her behind to deposit her player and the DVDs they used for the presentation in his car. She’d wanted to hang back and pester Miller about their grade.

“Hey, look, it’s not my problem.” The tight smirk on Tonya’s face made her look bitter. “I just think you should know that he’s playing with you. Kona Hale only does hookups. Everyone knows that, so if you’re thinking that he’s going to stick around, you’re stupid.”

Keira dropped her bag, let the folders in her hand hit the tile floor. “I’m not stupid, Tonya, and I don’t need a warning.” She took a step, making the girl retreat. “Why don’t you get out of my way?”

Tonya backed up, and Keira followed until they were away from the door and near the girls’ bathroom. Keira was taller than her, she had at least fifteen pounds on her, and Tonya seemed to notice it, her eyes shifting down at Keira’s clenched fists. There was nothing to her— no substance, no natural beauty. She looked like every other girl on campus that tried too hard. Keira shouldn’t have let her bother her. She shouldn’t have let her get under her skin, but there was a small voice whispering in the back of her mind, the same one that told Keira that Kona had been loose and easy with his dick. He might touch her, he might kiss her like a man possessed, but Keira wasn’t the first. She probably wouldn’t be the last, and as she glared at Tonya, as she backed her further away from the door, a quick memory of her pulling down her skirt, leaving Kona’s bedroom, flashed forward.

Kona had slept with Tonya a few days after the hospital, after she’d spent hours with him while he waited on news of his grandfather. They’d shared a few moments, looks that promised something was kindling between them. Then, Tonya Lucas followed him home.

She’d tried to let it go, tried not to mention it to him the past few weeks, but with Tonya standing in front of her, telling Keira she was kidding herself if she thought Kona would ever be serious about her, the anger and hurt she pretended she never felt came rushing back.

“I’m just trying to give you a heads-up. He has a habit of using girls.”

“Girls like you, you mean?”

“Whatever.” Tonya deflected the insult, brushed her brittle hair off her shoulder like being used hadn’t bothered her. “Just know he isn’t serious about you. It’s Kona. He isn’t serious about anything but partying.”

“Like I said, I don’t need a warning.” Keira had heard enough. Tonya Lucas was easy, stupid, and her opinion didn’t matter. Keira turned away from her, headed back to her discarded bag and folders, and she threw a quick glance out of the glass door, frowning when she noticed Kona was no longer waiting for her at his car.

“You think you’re special or something?” Tonya called across the lobby, and Keira shook her head at how jealous and hostile she sounded. Her papers and notes had scattered all over the floor when she dropped them, and Keira scrambled around to retrieve her stuff before Tonya could make a scene. “Bet he kissed you behind the ear, right?” she said, heels clicking against the tile as she approached. “Told you how sexy your neck was?” Keira frowned, unable to make the muscles in her mouth relax when she recognized the familiar things Kona had said and done to her that night in her room. Some hint of acknowledgment must have been on her face because when Keira looked up at Tonya, the blonde’s smile was triumphant.

She knelt down, making a show of helping Keira with her papers. “Yeah. That’s his thing. I bet he even told you that you can take whatever he has, right?” Keira jerked a sheet of paper out of Tonya’s hand when she offered it. “I know that look, Keira. It’s the same one I had when Amber Thomas told me about Kona. He’s a whore, and he only cares about getting off.” Tonya abandoned her quasi help and stood away from Keira, smoothing down her jeans. Keira was no longer angry, could only identify what she felt as defeat with a great swell of humiliation. He’d played her. Kona had totally played her, and she felt like an idiot.

“Kona only wants to fuck you. He’s not the relationship type.”

Every word that stupid bitch spoke was like a jab against Keira’s chest, and for the first time in months, it wasn’t Kona stoking the flame of her temper. Oh, she knew it was his fault, all of this could be laid at Kona’s feet, but as Tonya spoke, as that ever-growing smile distorted her slight pleasure to selfish elation, Keira’s anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach. She’d deluded herself into thinking Kona liked her, that he’d changed, that he’d actually felt real guilt over sleeping with that tart.

“Besides,” Tonya continued, “he’s got his eyes on the NFL and, honey, no guy heading for a pro career is interested in settling down with his college hookup. Do yourself a favor and dump him now.”

“You need to shut your mouth.” Kona’s voice was low, a subtle warning that Tonya didn’t seem to understand. She should have cowered, should have at least stepped away from Kona as he approached. She should have noticed that his anger simmered behind the hard glare that made his black eyes glisten. The girl was too stupid to do anything but smile at him. Keira saw that confident grin of hers falter the longer she looked at Kona.

“Don’t get pissed at me for telling her the truth. Everyone knows how you are, Kona.” She shrugged, as though poking the bull with the iron rod of her insult wasn’t dangerous, wasn’t anything other than simple fact. “I’m just giving Keira here a little friendly advice.”

“You’re running your mouth, and it’s pissing me off.” Kona stepped forward, shoulders tight, forehead hard with tension. “You really don’t want to piss me off.” Tonya’s smile wavered as Kona’s frown grew and she shot a glance at Keira as if she couldn’t believe Kona was remotely interested in her. “Stay away from her,” he said. “Don’t even look at her.”

“I can fight my own battles, thanks,” Keira said, ignoring Kona as she stood in front of him. “We’re just hanging out. He isn’t mine, so your warning is pointless. But he’s right, the mouth running isn’t necessary, and you need to walk away.”

It took three quick backward steps before Tonya darted around and left them. Keira didn’t know if that quick slap of anger in his features had softened. She didn’t bother looking at him or even acknowledging his presence until she went to her knees, trying to gather the few sheets of her notes still on the floor. Kona reached for several, but she grabbed them before he could even stretch his fingers, and Keira ignored his low, frustrated grunts. “I got it,” she said, when Kona snagged two sheets to her left. He reached for her folder, and she moved quick, taking it away from him. “I said I got it.”

“Are we fighting?” Eyes on her face, sliding to his haunches as Keira ignored him, Kona stood, and in a quick glance, Keira noticed him rubbing his fingers against the back of his neck. “Is that what this is? You’re gonna let some stupid bitch mess with your head?”

Her composure crumbled, and Keira got to her feet, stuffing her notes and folders into her already full back pack. “The same stupid bitch you fucked? No, not her, Kona, she’s not the one messing with my head.” She wouldn’t let his open mouth and guilty grimace stop her. Keira threw her bag over her shoulder, knowing he was right behind her, not caring that classes had let out and the lobby filled with a crowd. They waited side by side for the throng in front of the door to thin, but Keira’s temper was at high tide, waving anger and rage inside her chest. “It’s the same line of bullshit Tonya said you fed her and every other girl you’ve been with that’s messing with my head. You said the same thing to me like I was one of your whores, Kona.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Wild—” Keira jerked her head up, and her piercing glare stopped Kona from calling her that stupid nickname. “I didn’t mean that, I swear.” He tried taking her heavy bag, and Keira, seething and feeling stupid, shoved him back. Kona let her, so shocked by her anger that he moved away from her. Around them people were staring, a small circle of eyes and ears eating up the drama like it was chocolate. Kona reached for her bag again, and Keira twisted out of his grasp, coming close to falling from the shifting weight before Kona steadied her.

“Get off me, asshole. Now!” Keira’s voiced carried, lifted up into the high ceiling, up to the second-floor balcony where Kona’s mother was walking toward her office. Kona twisted his neck, watching his oblivious mother as she stopped to speak to one of the art history professors. Kona snapped his gaze to Keira before he grabbed her bag from her and pulled Keira by the arm, shouldering his way through the crowd that stepped back from his looming stature and simmering frown, ignoring Keira’s feeble attempts to jerk out of his grip.

 He had a tight, pinching grip on her elbow, and before they reached his car, Keira dug in her feet, yanking back. “Let me go, you gorilla!” Kona stopped, turned toward her as though he might pull her against him, and Keira saw red and stomped on his foot.

He dropped her bag, wincing against the pain in his foot. “Keira, calm the hell down.” She didn’t want him controlling her, demanding that she stop acting like a brat. All Keira wanted was space from him, distance that would leave Kona miles behind her. Her bag was in her hand and over her shoulder before Kona realized what she was doing, and she headed down the sidewalk, thinking of nothing but a hot shower and putting space between the disgusting gorilla darting after her.

Kona caught up to her easily, a few strides and his long legs had him in front of her, holding up his hands. “You’re not walking away like a coward.” Keira darted to the left, but Kona followed and easily lifted her over his shoulder. “We’re going to finish this shit, Wildcat.” 

“Put me down, you freaking prick! Right the hell now!”

The crowd had followed them out of the lobby, loosely circling Kona’s Camaro, but Keira was too angry to be embarrassed. Her blood boiled, resentment cresting until it vibrated into her hands, until that rage had her pounding her fists against Kona’s back.

He kept walking, waving random gawkers away from his car, and before Keira realized what was happening, Kona had her in the passenger’s seat and buckled. She breathed, hard exhales she knew wouldn’t calm her, and as soon as he started to walk around the car she unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door and prepared to run. Before she could escape, Kona threw himself in the car, slammed his door and threw her heavy bag onto her lap before he reached over her and jerked her door closed.

Kona sped out of the parking lot and down the street before Keira could attempt another escape. He ignored the speed limit, didn’t seem to care that he slipped through one speed trap after another.

“Let me out.” Keira braced herself against the door when Kona turned sharp, tires squealing. “Let me out of the car right now.”

“I’m not yours?” She glanced at him, but didn’t quite meet his eyes, her attention too focused on his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel and the jerks he made against the gear shift. “That’s what you think?”

Kona left campus proper and took three side streets through the city, heading toward the interstate and away from New Orleans, still speeding, still seemingly careless that the ramps were curved and steep, that traffic was thickening.

“Slow down, Kona.” He took an exit, flew past it too quickly for Keira to notice where he was going and didn’t pump his brakes once as they soared through four green lights. Keira’s heart pounded, her fingers hurt from the hold she kept on the small space between the door and window, and her temper cooled, replaced by quickly rising fear. She didn’t want to die in the middle of nowhere because Kona decided driving like a maniac was the only way to get Keira to finish their fight. “I’m serious. Slow. Down.”

“Hanging out? What the hell does that even mean?” He punched the dashboard, rattling the stereo beneath it.

“Kona, stop the car! Stop!”

Her shout distracted him, and in the split-second his eyes were off the road, the median to their right came up too fast. Kona tried to adjust the wheels, tried swerving back onto the road, but he acted too slowly, reaction dulled by diversion, and the Camaro shifted hard, inertia slamming Keira’s head against the window.

“Oh, my God.” Kona reached for her, keeping barely a finger on the steering wheel. “Oh, God. Keira…baby…”

Dazed, with a swift throb pounding next to her temple, Keira shook her head, trying to get her dizzy, unfocused vision to clear. Her tears came quick, and she didn’t know if it was the slap of pain or the bright spark of anger that made her eyes wet.

Traffic moved around them as Kona pulled off the median and down a side street, and the horns sounding around them only made Keira’s head throb harder. She touched her head, grateful no blood darkened her fingertips.

There was a click of Kona’s seatbelt unfastening and then he was around the car, opening Keira’s door. “Let me see,” he said, pulling on her knees so that she faced him.

“Quit it. Just don’t touch me.” She didn’t want his comfort or concern. She wanted his guilt, wanted him to feel like the asshole he was.

Keira’s immediate thought was to get out of the car and as far away from Kona as she could manage. She had no idea where they were; New Orleans was a second home, a place she’d only just started to get familiar with, but she guessed she could find a cab, maybe get Leann to pick her up if she figured out which exit they’d taken.

“You can’t leave.” His voice was low, cautious, and when Keira pushed him out of her way in her weak attempt to leave the car, it became desperate. “I have to take you to the hospital.”

“Leann can take me.” She managed two steps before dizziness rushed in her head, and she leaned against the car.

“Let me help you.” Kona stood behind her, not touching, not doing anything more than leaning next to her with his large arm stretched over the hood. “Please let me help you.” His voice cracked, elevated, and Keira finally looked at him, stepping back when she noticed his black eyes shining like glass. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” She let him move the hair from her forehead, let him shift her head to examine what was fast becoming a nice little knot. Against her face, she felt the tremors in his fingers. Kona cussed, under his breath, soft oaths he seemed to use to curse himself and then he kissed Keira’s forehead, rested his brow on her shoulder. “What are you doing to me?” He looked up at her. “I’m not right, not about you. I don’t know who I am when I’m with you. It scares the shit out of me.”

“Then maybe this isn’t going to work.” It was something she’d thought about, something she tried not to examine for too long. It had been two short weeks of Keira and Kona playing like a couple. Two weeks that had her laughing more, smiling easier. But in the back of her mind had been the reality of their lives, the people they were when they weren’t around each other. The nagging voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother, whispered that this was pretend, that one day soon the differences between them, the quick anger and easy tempers, would lead to destruction. “I don’t know if I can handle this, Kona.” She waved between them.

She didn’t like the look he gave her, didn’t like how hard he frowned, as though it took effort not to argue with her. Instead, Kona leaned against his car, his hands covering his face, then stilling in his hair as he looked up at the sky.              

Keira turned from him, resting her aching head on the back windshield, and left Kona with whatever thoughts kept him away from her. It was a moment he seemed to need, but Keira’s dizzy head only got worse, the throbbing beating like a pulse and she couldn’t take the quiet or the cold wind that started to make her fingers burn.

“Take me back to my dorm. I’ll get Leann to bring me to the ER.”

“No. I’ll do it.”

“Kona…” She faced him, still leaning against the car, and he shook his head, guided her into her seat and fastened her belt.

“Let me do this, okay? This is my fault. At least let me do this.”

 

 

Keira wasn’t the type of girl who cried into her pillow. Not since her father’s death had she spent nights awake, soaking the fine cotton fabric against her face. She thought there was nothing left in her, no feeling that warranted any semblance of an emotional catharsis. Her greatest love, her fiercest protector, left her when she was ten, and at that time, Keira understood that her tears would not help. In the morning, with her face puffy and eyes swollen, she’d still wake to a world her father had escaped. Why cry? It wouldn’t bring him back. It wouldn’t do anything but have her mother complaining about the dark circles under her eyes.

But as she rested in her dorm, waiting for Kona to return with her filled prescription, Keira let those long-restricted tears fall. It didn’t make her feel any better. It didn’t take away the searing pain working in her head, and it didn’t have her eager to forget how all of this happened.

Keira couldn’t tell the difference anymore between anger and sadness. She knew loss; it had been the slow burn that tightened her stomach for eight years. But heartache? Grief for something she’d never really had? Why did that make her sob like a toddler with a missing teddy bear?

Maybe it was how Kona had acted at the hospital. Maybe it was the way he held her close, how he paced outside Radiology when the doctors scanned her brain. Maybe it was the thick weight of guilt she felt coming off him like a fever. Keira couldn’t be sure, didn’t know how to analyze all that emotion and identify it for what it was. She thought maybe it was the sense of something disappearing, the death of something bright and brilliant that she almost held between her fingers.

I’m stupid, she thought, rolling onto her back.

Really, she figured it was Kona’s silence that brought on the full weight of her tears. How he barely spoke, how the entire two hours they were in that ER, he never said more than “are you okay?” and “I’m so fucking sorry.” He hadn’t been the Kona she’d come to know. He hadn’t told her a dumb joke to make her smile. He’d only listened as the doctor told her she was fine, that a few Lortabs would sort out her headache.

Annoyed by a new wave of tears clouding her vision, Keira got up from her bed and made careful steps to the bathroom to wash her face before Kona returned.

“Keira?”

She stepped out of the bathroom, not even attempting to return the smile he gave her.

“You need to take one of these.” He lifted the white, stapled bag and pulled a bottle of water from his jacket pocket.

“Did Leann call back?” she asked, returning to her bed.

“Yeah. She’s on her way. Shouldn’t be too long.”

She took the pill when Kona handed it to her and washed it down with Kona’s water. He watched her closely, eyes sharp as she swallowed. “Did you tell her what happened?”

“Don’t worry about that. She knows I fucked up.”

“Kona, don’t do that.”

He waved her off, taking the bottle back from her before he set it on her bedside table. “Those pills are gonna kick in soon, and trust me, you wanna be flat on your back when they do.” No joke. No smart little comment laced with innuendo. Kona pulled her comforter from under Keira’s legs and lifted it, waiting for her to lie down.

But he didn’t leave when Keira snuggled under her covers. He just sat on the foot of her bed, elbows on his knees as he watched her. The silence rose back up, and after a few minutes, Keira felt stifled by the quiet.

“Don’t you have practice today?” He nodded, but kept his gaze on his hands, twisting the large state championship ring around his finger. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

The bed shook when Kona jerked around to stare at her. “Shit, Keira, don’t thank me. Don’t fucking thank me when I put you in this situation.”

“We were fighting.” She sat up slowly, resting against her headboard, and Keira could tell moving only made Kona’s guilt worsen; he grunted once, nostrils flaring, and she shook her head, frustrated by his attitude. “You were mad,” she said. “I was mad. Shit happens.”

“Would you listen to yourself?” He stood up then, fingers sliding through his hair. “When are you gonna get it through your head? I’m no fucking good for you.”

“That’s what you think? You think I’m some sort of enabler?” Keira came to her knees then, ready to slap him if kept insulting her. “Like I’m taking your shit because I’m weak?”

“You’re rebelling again. I’m the new Diego, right?”

Keira hated Kona then. She hated the self-effacing smirk on his face and the way he curled his arms tight across his chest. He was mocking her, trying to sting her on purpose, like she was a child, like she needed to be protected from herself, from him.

“Get out.”

“I’m just saying that you…”

“Get out!” She moved back onto her bed, turning away from him. “Just leave. Now. The project is over. There’s no need for us to see each other anymore. Just walk away.”

“I can’t do that.”

She turned to face him, hating that he still stood back, kept himself rigid. She knew what he was doing. She knew he was looking for reasons, excuses that would make her angry, have her lashing out until she told him she didn’t want him. Fine, she thought, unwilling to fight for something that was never real. 

“You don’t have a choice. I’m done. I’m so done with getting glares from every girl that you’ve been with. I’m sick of people talking behind my back like I’m some sort of naive idiot. I’m sick of being compared to every girl you…just leave, Kona.”

He took a step, cautious, slow but his eyes were wide, desperate. “I can’t just leave you here. I’ll wait for Leann...”

“No!” Keira sat up, and the quick jostle of her body had her head swimming again. “Just get out of here. I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t do this. I don’t care about…just don’t do this to me.”

She was mad, distracted by the burn in her eyes, by the collection of tears that stuck on her lashes. “I’m doing what you want, Kona. I’m giving you an out.” She lay back down and pulled her pillow under her chin. “Just take it.”

Keira thought he might stay. She thought the way his breath hissed out of his throat meant that he struggled with ignoring her and walking away like she knew he wanted to do. She counted the seconds, rubbing her eyes against her pillow, breath held until she heard the click of her door. And then, when she knew she was alone, when Kona’s thick scent didn’t clot in her nose anymore, Keira fell asleep with her tears wetting her pillow.

 

For the first time in his life, Kona didn’t want to play football. It wasn’t the frigid temperatures or the fact that he was running like shit, working his drills like an amateur, that made him want to tear off his pads and leave. Kona just didn’t want to be around anyone.

“Hale! Get your fucking head on right!”

Kona stopped mid-run, walking back down the field as Coach Robins yelled after him. He tried again, getting back in formation, Luka next to him, staring, but Hhis heart wasn’t in it. His mind was clouded with Keira’s sobs as Kona stood outside her door, listening, just an hour ago.

Robins’ whistle blew, and he moved, nothing more than instinct making his feet shuffle. Chris Willis, their running back, charged forward, and Kona twisted his shoulders, not thinking, not really caring that he’d completely taken himself out of the play.

“Son of a bitch!” Robins’ voice carried across the field, and Kona lowered his head, hands on his hips as he waited for his coach’s approach. The man got right in his face, yanked on Kona’s helmet to catch his eyes, and Kona just took that angry scowl like medicine, focusing on the hard wrinkles around the man’s green eyes and the way his already pink face got redder. “You’re behind your runner and somehow still managing to lose fucking ground! Where you at today? Huh? You forget how to run?” Robin pushed Kona’s helmet back as though he couldn’t look at him another second. “You try that shit again, and I swear to Christ if you don’t move your fucking feet I’ll kick you off my field.”

Kona regrouped, jogged back to the line, shaking his head to clear it of Keira and her soft skin and that huge knot on her forehead. “Shit,” he said to himself, squeezing his eyes shut to get rid of her face.

Luka elbowed him as the settled in formation. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“Back off, Lu.”

He dug his feet in deep, hustling, working his muscles until they screamed, and somehow managed to block his man, to get his runner right where he needed to be.

“Finally!” Robins yelled, but Kona didn’t bother with more than a nod in his coach’s direction. “Second line, move your asses.”

Kona tore off his helmet, grabbed a water from the sideline bench, and drank down half of it before Luka could jog next to him.

“Brah, what’s the problem?”

His brother’s features were set hard, and Kona appreciated the concern, the way Luka was trying to help him, but he didn’t need a lecture; he was tearing himself up enough for the both of them. “I need a minute.”

“You don’t have a minute. You’re in your second year of eligibility, jackass.” He got in Kona’s face, slapping the water bottle out of his hand. “Get your shit together and run like your ass is on fire.”

And for once, Kona listened to his twin. He spent the next half-hour tearing down the field, hustling, shuffling with his shoulders straight, attacking the sleds like an animal, pouring everything in his head onto each pad and the poor redshirts that got landed with him.

Somehow, though, Robins didn’t care. “Hale, get your ass over here,” the coach said when practice was winding down. Kona met him on the sidelines, helmet in his hand. Robins didn’t bother looking up from his clipboard. “Get rid of those pads. You’re on the chute for twenty minutes.”

“Coach…”

“You spent the first hour of my practice running like an old lady.” Finally, he glanced at Kona, eyes cold, hard, like Kona’s half-assed efforts were a personal offense. “You wanna play tomorrow night, son?”

Kona nodded, trying to swallow down his irritation.

“Good. Then get your ass on the track and put on that damn resistance chute. I need you ready.”

Nathan and Brian laughed at him as he walked off the field, stripping off his jersey and pads as he went, and Kona gave them a middle finger salute. An assistant coach Kona had only met twice outfitted him with the chute, and Kona tore down the track, cursing Robins and his own stupidity as he ran.

Keira’s voice came back to him then. Between each thump of his heart and the heavy pant of his breath, Kona heard her words over and over.

Just walk away.

Just walk away? From her? Was she out of her head?

Kona’s thoughts, and the aching guilt that crawled into his chest when he recalled Keira’s head slamming against that window, drove the tension in his body, made the pull of the chute behind him seem like a toddler tugging on his shirt. He ran to get away from how stupid he’d been, thinking she belonged with him. Of course she turned him loose. He didn’t deserve her. He couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He’d known it would end, felt it in his gut, but Kona was selfish, greedy for what he wanted, and the only thing he wanted then was Keira.

Forty-five minutes later, Kona was drenched, and it took him a full minute for the sound of the coach’s whistle to register. The cloud lifted from his head and exhaustion fell on him, like a stopper pulled from a drain.

“Hale!” Robins yelled from the field, and Kona moved his chin, acknowledging him. “Pack it up.”

Luka met him as Kona picked up his pads and jersey, and he took the water bottle his twin offered. His brother had that look, the one that told Kona he was going to nag.

Kona downed the water and fell to the ground, sitting with his arms resting on his knees. Luka joined him, leaning back on his hands. He was giving Kona a moment to settle, but Luka was impatient. Kona could see by the way his brother shook his leg that he was gearing up for a fight.

Kona sighed, took one final swallow of cold water and then he nodded at his brother. “Go ahead.”

“What was that?”

“Luka, back off. I don’t feel like hearing you bitch at me.”

“Well, somebody needs to. You’re fucking this up.”

Kona threw the bottle and it just missed Luka’s head. “It’s one practice. One out of how many? I’m not allowed an off day?”

“No. You’re not.” Luka kicked his foot. “Not even one. There is too much riding on this, Kona, and you know it. You have to be perfect, all the time. You have to work harder than anyone else out there.” He turned his head, watching Nathan and Brian as they slung water at each other, emptying each of their bottles as they chased each other off the field. “We both do. We’re up against guys that have two years on us. This ain’t freshman year anymore. We’re out of the weight room and on the field. We have to be better than everyone on that line.”

Kona didn’t want to hear it. He knew it already, knew how his waning effort, his distraction, had affected his playing. Still, he didn’t need Luka repeating something he already knew. He stood up then, walking toward the locker room without a backward glance at his twin, but stopped short when his empty water bottle connected with the back of his head. Kona spun around, pissed off, growing angrier at Luka’s laughter, at how his brother bent over, holding his stomach.

“Shit,” Luka said when Kona stomped toward him, peeling off his sweaty shirt like he was ready for a serious scrape.

“You think you’re funny? Think that shit is funny?”

Without thinking, Kona took a swing, and his brother didn’t flinch—he barely moved— and Kona’s huge knuckles caught Luka right on the chin.

His brother staggered back, rubbed his chin then held up his hand when one of the assistants started toward them. Finally, he looked at Kona, his eyebrows up. “Feel better?”

 “No!” Kona kicked his pads, sending them sailing to the sideline benches.

“Is this about that bitch?”

He darted toward his brother, grabbing his collar. “Don’t you fucking call her that. Don’t ever call her that.”

Luka’s features transformed, shock and surprise making his eyes round, making his mouth dip open. “Woah, brah, what the hell?”

Keira again. It all came back to her. She had him on edge, had him stupid with confusion and guilt, and Kona didn’t think Luka would get it. He knew his twin had never spent more than a week with one girl—hell, Kona hadn’t either, before. This was all new to him, and the idea that he hated and loved feeling this way twisted his gut. Exhausted from the excruciating practice and the muddled shit running through his mind, Kona dropped to his knees then sat back down on the ground.

Luka came next to him, but Kona kept his eyes down, fingers curled in his hair. “I almost killed her.”

“What?”

“Today.” He rubbed his face and released a deep breath. “Tonya fucked with her, got in her head, and Keira lost it. She completely lost it. Called me on all my shit.”

Luka stared after Kona like he wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. “She’s getting to you? And you’re letting her?”

Kona glanced at his brother, head shaking. “She wasn’t wrong. But, she had me so pissed off, downplaying what was going on with us, that I threw her in my car, tore off down the interstate.” Kona still heard the screech of the tires, and he swallowed against the bile he could taste in the back of his throat. “Got too close to a median, and she smacked her head on the window.”

Luka whistled, an amazed sound that grated Kona’s nerves. “She okay?”

He nodded. “No thanks to me.” He deserved whatever Keira gave him, he knew that. He deserved to have her tossing him out like he was nothing. He felt like nothing. “Shit.” Kona laid back on the grass, uncaring about the mud seeping into his hair. “Why this one girl, brah? What the hell did she do to me? I can’t think. I can’t breathe. All I wanna do is be around her. I care what she thinks.” He turned his head, looking up at his brother, hoping he had answers. “Why the hell do I care what she thinks?”

Luka frowned, gnawed at the inside of his cheek, considering Kona, looking at him like he was losing it. “I don’t know.” His twin looked down at his feet, features relaxing before he spoke again. “She’s a sweet girl, and maybe she’s good for you. Maybe she’s what you need. You think it’s pilialoha?”

Kona slipped his gaze toward his twin, staring at him for a few stunned seconds before he closed his eyes. The term was always in the back of Kona’s mind. To be in a bond of love, according to his kuku. It’s what Kona wanted to avoid. What he thought he’d never have for himself.

“I don’t know,” Kona said, not sure he liked how his mind began to convince himself that’s exactly what he had with Keira.

“Listen, brah, you don’t need this bullshit. Girls will mess you up if you let them, and you’ve got too much coming your way. Keira’s a nice girl. She’s hot.” Kona sat up, glared at Luka. His brother rolled his eyes, making Kona feel like an idiot. “I’m just saying. But you gotta back off. You can’t let her control you like this. You gotta walk away.”

“Not necessary. She tossed me.”

“Good.”

“Fuck you, Lu.” Kona dug his heel into the ground, pulling up the grass and dirt as he thought about not being around Keira. Luka didn’t get it. He didn’t understand how she calmed him, how much he liked her.

“The season is wrapping up, and she’s affecting you. Before you know it, winter camp will be here, and she’ll only get in the way. You aren’t running like you should. You aren’t performing, and people are noticing.”

“What?” Kona said, gaze shooting to his brother. His stomach dropped when Luka shrugged, nodding. If people were talking, even if it was just the players, then Kona was already in deep shit.

“I heard a few of the guys talking. Coach isn’t happy with you. Nathan said he heard Coach tell Fleming that he’s thinking of playing him Saturday.”

Ryan Fleming was about twenty pounds lighter and much slower than Kona. The kid was a joke and if Coach was going to play him, then Kona must be dragging ass. “He can’t do that.”

“The hell he can’t.”

The half-assed efforts had all started when Kona and Keira amped up whatever it was they’d been doing. But even before that, when Kona told Ricky he was done with his shit, he had noticed his performance slipping. Luka would hate it, Kona hated it, but Ricky had something that could help. At least for tomorrow’s game.

“You need to listen to me, brah. I’m your older brother.”

Kona rolled his eyes. “By three minutes.”

“Still, I’m worried about you. How we gonna get our rings if you keep messing up?”

Kona smiled at his twin, couldn’t help remembering the promise they made to each other as kids. The Hale boys, with matching Super Bowl rings. They didn’t care about the money, not really. It was the rings, what they meant—that the hard work, the effort had paid off—that both of them wanted. Kona looked down, forehead dipping as he thought about how poorly he’d been playing, how his distraction had threatened all the plans he and Luka had made together. Then suddenly, Kona knew what he had to do.

“I gotta go,” he told his brother, jumping to his feet before Luka could stop him. Like always, his twin followed behind.

“Where to?”

“I have some shit to take care of.”

Luka pulled on his arm. “Brah, if she tossed you…”

Kona twisted out of his brother’s grip. “I’m not going to see Keira.” Luka would follow, he always did, and Kona knew he’d give him shit for hooking back up with Ricky. Still, he wanted to know what Kona was planning. If he didn’t he wouldn’t be in his business. “I need an edge.”

“Kona…”

“Look, I let myself slack off. I had to, because it was messing with me, and you see what happens? I didn’t work my ass off to just fuck off my chances here. I need an edge. What I don’t need is you telling me I’m about to lose my spot and then bitching at me when I try to handle it.”

“Ricky’s way isn’t how you do it.”

“I know that,” he said, walking back toward the locker room. “I’m not an idiot. It’s just temporary.”

“It’s never temporary.” Kona waved him off, jogged away from Luka before he tried stopping him again, but as he edged toward the locker room, he heard Luka behind him, voice loud, a small plea between each word. “Kona, don’t do this. Kona! Wait!”