Thick & Thin (Thin Love, #3)

“Why don’t you stay out of my business and go call Kiki?”


He deflected a pillow when I flung it at him and slapped my leg, just above my ankle, making me straightened up, ready to throttle him before he cleared up his bag and slipped out of my reach.

“Hey beautiful,” he greeted Aly, lifting her by the waist when she reached in for a hug. “When are we gonna run away together?” She glanced at me long enough for Tristian to take advantage of the distraction to kiss her neck, earning a quick slap to the shoulder. “Come on, Aly Cat. You’re the daughter my mom never had and she likes you more than me. Besides, when I land a position at Tulane or some other hospital that can’t be without me, I’ll be totally loaded. Forget the lawyer or, a,” he nodded toward me, “other less than worthy mortals and let’s go make babies.”

“In your dreams, Bankston.” Aly patted his face, slipping from his hug before my mother returned to the kitchen with Tristian following after her.

“Keira, I have mended your pathetic son’s little booboo. Feed me, woman.” Mom threw a cold, insulted scowl over her shoulder at Tristian and he quickly retreated, hands held up. “I mean…beautiful cousin, what’s in the fridge?”

Aly moved around the living room, half distracted by Tristian and all the blabbering he did with my mother. My eyes wouldn’t leave her. The way she moved was like music—slow, subtle and before you knew it, the crescendo of her hips would sway into something that stuck in your head for days. Today she wore fitted jeans with black knee high boots and a maroon cardigan. I always loved that warm color on her. It reminded me of fall and the way Aly’s eyes matched the color of the oak leaves as they faded.

She leaned against the sofa opposite me, as though she wanted to test me, see if the tiger would pounce if she got too close. “You feeling okay?”

But I didn’t want to talk about how I felt. I knew why she’d come. There was something she wanted to say. That much I could still recognize in her pinched lips. It wasn’t Aly’s style to level a “I told you so” at me, but that didn’t mean she’d keep her opinion to herself. She was here to find out what I planned. She wanted to know if I was too stupid to see reason.

“Ransom?”

“I’m good,” I lied, leaning further against the leather sofa with my arm stretched out on the head rest. “How are you?”

“I was worried about you. We were here watching the game when…”

“Ah. Yeah, I figured. I remember Ethan inviting himself over.”

Some magnetic field had always seemed to pull us together, but time and distance, had changed that. The pull had somehow weakened in the week that I spent in Miami getting second and third opinions. Last I’d seen her, we’d promised to try our hands at being friends. When I’d suggested it that day at the barbeque, I hadn’t realized what that would mean. Back then, it had seemed possible, especially since the option of being without her was unthinkable. So, I hadn't lied. I’d meant what I’d said: Aly was the light in the distance that pulled me onward, that drew me close to home. I couldn’t be without that. But now I also didn’t know if I was strong enough to watch her from a distance.

“So? Are you still in pain?”

“I’m good,” I lied again, ignoring how her lips had tightened even further, how she gripped the tassel on the sofa pillow.

“Ransom, you got another concussion.”

“Yeah. I was there.”

“And,” she continued, ignoring my smart ass comment, “it was the third one in three years.”

“Again, not new information to me.”

“What are you going to do?” She moved closer and when her hair brushed against my arm, I had to ball my fingers into a fist. The temptation to touch her was too great.

“I’m gonna rehab, like I always do.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Why?”

“What?”

I adjusted in my seat, pulling back my arm in case our hands accidentally touched. “I said why as in, why do you want to know? It’s not your job, you know. You’re not the nanny anymore and I’m not Koa.”

She didn’t hesitate. “It’ll always be my job to worry about you.”

God how I wished that were true. I hated how quickly my heart sped at her words. I hated the small thrill I got when she moved closer to me. Aly wasn’t only offering comfort—she really did want my friendship. But I couldn’t take that. Not from her.

“I don’t think so. We aren’t together.”

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