Thick Love

She didn’t give me an invitation to explain and I didn’t wait for one. Instead, I told my boss everything. I glossed over the year and a half of me pining after Ransom like some stupid groupie. She knew that part already. But I confessed about the dance—God, not everything about it—and him kissing me, twice and the last dance that I promised her I’d ever perform at Summerland’s. When I was done, I didn’t feel the weight of my fear leave me. Not immediately, not until Lea

“Well,” she started, releasing a breath. “I’m not happy about you messing around with Ironside. That man is disgusting bottom feeder and he likes to take advantage of young, pretty girls. That was something I’d asked Misty to watch out for when she called me to ask after you for the choreography gig.”

“You know her?”

Lea

“I won’t. Don’t worry.” No way I’d step foot in that place again. I was sticking to the college thing and depending on what the judges thought of my performance, keeping to CPU as often as I could. Besides, Summerland’s held too much bad for me and I was full up with that shit.

Lea

“Lea

She wouldn’t let me finish, shook her head to cut me off. I didn’t put up much of a fight and I doubted my weak explanation would make much of an impact anyway. “Sweetie, I love Ransom like he’s my own kid and I love you too.” She nudge me again, Lea

And I did love them. They meant a lot to me in a very short time. But I thought walking away would be for the best. I thought not being around anything or anyone that reminded me of Ransom would help me forget that expression on his face or the obvious hatred in his eyes before he left me alone in that private room.

“Sometimes,” Lea

“You saying I shouldn’t let Ransom keep me from helping out Keira?”

Lea

18

Kona Hale is a stubborn, pigheaded bull sometimes. No more so than when his wife is sad and mopey. And if you’re the unfortunate jackass that Kona decided had put his wife in that particular mood, then you got threats. Even if you were his kid. Let’s be honest, they weren’t real threats, more along the “You are pissing me off” variety but I caught the meaning. He wouldn’t lay a finger on me, I knew that. Since he’d returned to our lives I could count on one hand the times my father has yelled at me. He was getting damn good at the fatherly anger, though, and today was Yell-Number-Three.

“Koa has not stopped crying since Monday. Monday, Ransom and your mom is completely worn out. You go make this right and then bring Aly to me. I want a word with her.”

“Why is that my job?” I’d regretted the question before it left my mouth, but still asked it anyway.

“Because she’s your friend and because if Keira doesn’t smile soon I’m go

“Dad…”

“No. Don’t even try it,” he’d said, his voice so loud over the phone that three girls passing me in Ke

“You’re putting this on me?” I’d stopped in the middle of the lobby then, not caring who watched me or how stupid I looked screaming into my phone. “You don’t even know what went down.”

“Because you don’t tell us shit anymore!”

Dad’s breath was heavy, it matched mine but neither of us spoke for a few seconds. Instead, I looked through the glass doors, scuffing my shoes against the molding. My father wasn’t wrong. I kept myself to myself because I didn’t want to add to the worry my parents already had, all because their son had screwed up again. My silence had hurt them, I’d known that but I’d never understood how deeply that hurt ran or how frustrating I’d become.

“Dad…”

“Look, keki kane, I’m sorry.” I believed he meant that apology. “I shouldn’t scream at you, but you’ve got to understand, we can’t get through to her. None of us. Lea

Kona Hale had tackled the best quarterbacks in the league. He was a massive mound of muscle and intimidation. But put a weepy Keira in front of him and throw in his anxious toddler and you’ve got the makings of the one thing that could topple him: an unhappy family.

I was my father’s son and though it took me stuffing down my pride and that promise I’d made to myself to forget about Aly as though she didn’t matter at all to me, an hour later, I found myself standing outside of Lea

She doesn’t matter. Don’t you dare apologize. Don’t be weak.

That voice was full of disgust because I could not hate myself for wanting Aly, for wanting to feel anything other than guilt. That voice was loud, so livid that I didn’t bother trying to block it out. I knew that every insult, every complaint she leveled, I deserved. I was everything she’d accused me of being. Emily’s father had reminded me with those roses, as though I could ever forget what I had done. And walking away from Aly, disregarding the attempt she made at healing me only proved that I was what Emily’s father thought I was. If I was that low, disgusting cretin, then I may as well live the part.

But for my family, I’d do anything. Even try to smooth over the shit I hadn’t created. Not directly. The voice continued, niggling hard, like some sort of wicked conscience that I’d grown used to hearing. There was so much doubt, so much hatred in that tone that I knew I’d created it myself. Emily would have never spoken that way to me. She’d have never fed my doubt.

The open door beyond the lobby flooded the entire building with music. Lea

“Studio. She’s working on her routine.” I hadn’t trusted that tone or the way my cousin laughed, but as I approached the opened door, I understood what had her so amused.

Motherfucker.