Saints and Sinners - Eden Butler Page 0,29

Jimmy were going well. When they’d been bad, Gia had barely been able to speak to her without the girl bursting into tears.

“Yeah. I suppose,” she admitted, though her eyes were growing glassy. She glanced at Gia, staring for a few seconds before she shook her head, seeming to silently admonish herself for the melt down she was tempted to have. “Yes.” This time when she spoke, her words were clearer and she scrubbed her face. “I’m fine. I got all this thanks to Luka Hale.”

“Luka?” Gia asked, her curiosity instantly piqued.

“Yeah.” Claire hopped up from her bed, brushing the collection of items back into her bag. “He let me into Jimmy’s room. Said he wasn’t supposed to, but knew that you and me were friends.” Claire smiled, wagging her eyebrows at Gia. “See? There’s hope. Your crush pays attention to who you hang out with. He obviously is misguided enough to think you and your friends are trustworthy. Maybe he’ll finally come around and ask you out.”

“Maybe,” Gia said, fighting back a smile.

“Or maybe,” Claire continued as she walked to her dresser and grabbed some underthings. “He was so high on pain meds he didn’t realize he was actually letting me into Jimmy’s room.”

“Pain meds?” Gia stood, not caring that she probably sounded a little desperate. “Why does Luka need pain meds?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Gia shook her head and Claire shrugged. “You’re the worst fangirl. You need to pay attention to gossip.” When Gia didn’t join in her laughter, Claire waved her off. “Supposedly Luka and Kona got into it. Mimi said she heard them. She was in Brock’s room a week ago and Kona barges in looking for Luka. All hell breaks loose.”

A week ago? That was when Luka first told Gia he couldn’t see her. It was the night he promised her he’d first ran a fever.

“What were they fighting over?” Gia asked, following after Claire when she walked toward the bathroom.

“Who knows. They’re ridiculous. Like little kids who love and hate each other. Best friends, worst enemies sort of situation, but from what Brock told Mimi, Kona was pissed at Luka about some girl.”

Gia stepped back, her heart thudding hard when a million different scenarios rattled around her head. Some small, weak voice told her Luka was messing around with some girl. Maybe it was someone Kona didn’t think he should be with.

Maybe it was her.

He had warned her.

Kona had dismissed why he thought they shouldn’t be together, but maybe that had been a lie. He could have thought Gia wasn’t right for him. There were a thousand different assumptions, a million different scenarios that could have led Luka to fighting his brother.

Gia didn’t care about any of them.

In that moment, the only thing on her mind was getting at the truth.

And finding out why her boyfriend who promised he loved her, had lied to her.

Gia didn’t like the team house. There were too many people doing things that her uncle believed would “sully the good team name.” He meant there were a lot of horny kids running around drinking and otherwise doing horny-kid things. He never wanted Gia to be a part of that so she only came to the team house for parties and never alone.

Today, though, she marched up the walkway, barely acknowledging Miller and Peterson, two tackles her uncle thought could stand attitude adjustments.

“Gia, how you doing?” one of them said, but she didn’t bother to respond.

Instead, she moved through the front door, waving off Drew when she saw him and two other players, Ricks and Evans, who always thanked her for the protein bars she left in their lockers.

“You lost?” Ricks said, but immediately went quiet as she flew up the stairs, her gaze shooting across the landing, down the hallway and into the second-floor lounge area.

There was a large leather sofa in front of a wide screen television and several recliners circling the edge of the small room. The walls were covered with team photos that went back decades and university and team flags framed and pinned over the doorways. And in the center of that sofa sat Kona Hale, bent over tying his Nikes.

He glanced up when Gia stopped in front of him, a dark bruise under his eye that looked to be yellowing. Kona’s expression shifted from caution when he first glanced at her, to calm when he seemed to recognize her.

“Jilani?” he said, moving his head toward her. “Everything okay?”

“You tell me.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Kona

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