Never Been Kissed: A Never Been Novel (15 page)

To be chest level with the table like me and Hunt, Matty’s sitting on his haunches, taking small bites out of his crust first. “An
d you, Daddy? What did you do?”

Hunter clears his throat, takes a fraction of a second too long to wipe his mouth of nonexistent tomato sauce.

“Nothing special, buddy.” Hunt’s shoulders are hunched over his plate, eyes glued to the pizza like it’s more interesting than a Playboy. His eyebrows are drawn down and he won’t look at me.

“What do you do
today, Hunt?”

He looks up at me, rolling around a piece of pizza in his mouth, licking his lips. Even though he looks calm, a hand is fisted around his napkin, and he’s clutching his plate so tight, the thing might break apart. I feel like I’ve asked a bad, bad
question.

“Construc
tion. I work in construction.”

Oh, man. A picture flashes in my mind – Hunter, shirtless. Sweat gleaming on his skin under the hot June sun, wielding a hammer (like Thor!), or Christ, chopping wood. I have to try three times to swallow the piece of pizza in my mouth. My legs are shaky and the image is so real, I can smell him
, taste the sweat off his skin.

Ack! There’s a
kid
here!

“Cool,” I manage, taking a hasty slurp of my water.
Emergency cool-down commencing!

“Sera? Can you read to me again tonight?”
Matty asks, eyes hopeful. How am I supposed to say no?

“Sure, kid. Peter Pan again, or something else?” I look at Hunter, hoping
it’s okay for me to be staying over that long. I get a stiff nod.
Okay, then.

“I...” Matty blows out a breath, putting his slice of pizza down on his plate. Fierce concentration transforms his innocent little boy face to an older kid
’s, one who’s already in school and learning the hard truths of the world.

“I don’t want the story to end just yet. Can you read me something else?”

Holy shit, here it comes.
“Ever heard of a boy named Harry Potter?”

Matty
shakes his head, and my future spreads out ahead of me. Tucking him in at night, placing a kiss on his forehead when I’m done reading to him and he’s fallen asleep. And to give him Harry Potter? To relive the adventure through his eyes? It’s like being told you can rewind time and read all your favourite books for the very first time all over again. I cannot wait.

“Right. We’re going to read that tonight.” After Harry Potter, there’s Peter Pan to finish. After that, I’m going to read him Charlotte’s Web and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Oh, and The Outsiders when he’s older! God, this kid is g
oing to get all the good stuff!

“How could you not read him Harry Potter? What’s wrong with you?” I make the crime sound wo
rse than homicide. “Sorry. I got carried away.” Hunter’s face closes down, and I’m that stranger again, all the hard-earned time and jokes and affection and kisses to my knuckles are gone, like our history has been erased. I shiver, but keep staring at him.

By the power of Grayskull, I’m brave and badass. I can do this!

“Harry Potter has a very special place in my heart and to not read it to a kid is like blasphemy.” I shake my head, embarrassed. “I don’t just wear the nerdy shirts and shoes. I have nerdy blood, and a nerdy heart.” I reach for his hand, which jerks like he’s thinking about pulling it away from me but changed his mind. “Maybe you shouldn’t pulverize your napkin.” I unwind his fingers from the offensive scrap of paper, and squeeze his fingers with mine.

“I’m really happy you’re letting me read to him. Thank you.” I tilt my head to the side, trying to see him from a different angle.
He’s hot and cold, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

When I try to move back to my bubble of space of the table, his fingers flip over and entwine in mind, halting my progress. Damn it, I wish I could lift an eyebrow – I wou
ldn’t have to ask what’s wrong.

“As long as you promise to stay after he goes to bed. We need to talk.” I snort-giggle, something I do when I’m nervous. I clap a hand over my mouth, eyes wide with mortification. Yup, the blood’s rushing to m
y cheeks, burning and smarting.

Matty laughs, the sound light and perfect. Hunter joins in, his deep belly-laugh making his body vibrate through his hand to mine.

“That was adorable,” Hunt says, kissing my knuckles. I can’t speak yet, I may invent another language if I do, one where consonants and vowels join hands and switch partners faster than any ballroom dance.

“Why do keep kissing her hand, Daddy?” I swing my gaze to Matty, biting my lip. Is this inappropriate? Am I corrupting
him?

Hunter’s smile turns sheepish, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. “I’m showing her respect, buddy.
I like Sera. I want her to be my girlfriend.”

“I don’t get it.” I want to laugh again, but I sense that this is important – a life lesson disguised as dinner conversation.

“When I do this,” Hunter says, ghosting his lips over my knuckles one more time. The touch of his mouth is so sweet, my heart aches, and I end up forgetting how to breathe. “I’m saying I like her.”

“Is it like w
hen Peter kisses Wendy’s hand?”

Bloody hell.
How do I explain that Peter will never see Wendy Darling the same way as Hunter is looking at me right now?

“Yeah, buddy. That’s exactly it,” Hunter says, totally ruining the story
.

“I think I understand.” Matty nods, once, then twice more, like he really gets it now. “
Daddy, can we go to the park now? You said after supper we could go.” Then he looks at me. “Sera, wanna play soccer?” His eyes are wide and he’s nodding his head quick and fast like he’s trying to hypnotize me into doing the same.

“Pffft. You don’t want to play me, buddy. I’ll kick your little bum,” I s
ay, blowing air on my knuckles.

Matty points at me, and then hits the table with an open hand. “I thought you said a bad word. So? Wanna play?
I bet Daddy’s better than you!”

Sweet hippogriffs, I might have a chance at showing off some of my soccer skillz. I turn to Hunt and say,
“I’ll kick your bum, too. Game on?”

He rubs his mouth with the hand I
’d been holding, like he’s trying to hide words he wants to say. “You’re playing dressed like that?” And he does that overall look from the top of my head, to the tips of my toes. Every part of my body starts to tingle.

“I’ll show you
and
your boy how a lady can kick gluteus!” I stammer, ignoring the satisfied grin on his face.“I’m trying to avoid losing quarters. ”

Hunter resume
s rubbing his mouth, but more slowly now, thinking, wondering. “Game on, then. When I kick your...bum, even in those fine clothes, we’re going to talk, aren’t we?”

I sm
ooth the nonexistent wrinkles from my skirt, nodding with my hair hiding my face. I look up while biting down on my back molars. His face is resolute, solemn and oh so perfect, I curse his genetics. And then take it back. “Yeah. We’ll talk. But not before I score a hat-trick!”

***

The game wasn’t what I expected. It started off with us kicking a ball around at a nearby park with the smaller soccer fields for younger age groups. We started off a tiny game as a trio, even playing monkey-in-the-middle. By the end, it was like Hunter and I had personal vendettas out on each other and the next goal would decide who would be the ruler of the known universe.

I didn’t get my hat-trick.

I had to roll down the waist of my skirt, so my knees and stride had more room as I kicked, deked, and played my ass off in Chucks. Without my cleats, I slipped and fell a lot, always to have Hunter sling and arm around my waist stopping me from going completely down.

Hunter
didn’t play fair. When I got a breakaway, his long legs caught up to me, and he’d hook me around the waist and twirl me until the world went by me in blurs, and all I could hear was my laboured breathing and Matty’s happy laugh.

On a penalty kick since Matty (as the goalie) fouled me, kicking my shin when he missed the ball, Hunter pressed a kiss to the side of my neck, refusing to move from
right
behind me when I took my mini-kick and I actually scored. I wanted to just graze the far post, keeping Matty’s little-kid dignity intact, but I screwed it up when Hunter distracted me.

Matty had a tantrum, kicking the ball over and over into the net, angry tears spilling down his cheeks. I kept hearing him s
cream ‘Why am I no good at this, too?’, crying and kicking the stupid ball over and over again.

I stayed back, watching Hunter rub Matty’s back, and finally pull him into a hug as he kneeled down. The little guy just sobbed into his shoulder, and the pain in my throat exploded to past
excruciating. I felt like shit.

Walking back to our building, heart heavy and feet dragging, I cussed myself out in the three languages I know. The elevator ride was quiet, Matty’s sniffles the only sound until we
binged
our way to our floor.

“Sera? You’re sti
ll going to read to me, right?”

I nod, wiping the sweat off my forehead with my blouse’s sleeve. “If that’s what you want, Matty. I’ll be over soon, okay?” Hunter nods at me and we go to our respective doors.

I read Matty the first
Harry Potter
, and I enjoy every one of his reactions. When he found out that the cat was none other than Professor McGonagall, he gasped and sat upright in bed, proclaiming it wasn’t
real
. I told him that in Harry’s world – it is.

Th
e kid conks out after I hit chapter three, little head resting on my shoulder. I use worm-like movements to wiggle off his bed, nearly tumbling off it when I thought I had more room to go. Guess not.

The rest of the apartment is pitch black when I turn off Matty’s light. Staying still, I see a light in the kitchen – the fridge light. I hurry to it, suddenly afraid of bei
ng alone in the dark.

“Why don’t you close Matty’s door, and you can open the lights?” I whisper, gasp when the fridge light is gone and Hunter becomes part of the darkness while my eyes adjust, looking for
photons to help us see the way.

I jump when his hand touches mine, and I get a sense of him, standing in front of me. I can smell him, I can feel his heat, inching closer and closer, until his lips are at my ear.

“I need his door open so I can check on him during the night. And I do it to test my vision. I force my eyes to get accustomed to the dark.”

“Oh. Your sugars, right?”

His lips graze my ear lobe, and kiss my cheek. It feels like a lightning strike rocks right through my body and settles between my legs. These kisses are driving me
mad
. “I forget that you know all this already. I love that I don’t have to explain any of this to you.”

His body heat makes me shiver, and my nipples harden. Well, at least he can’t see.
“Are... are you dressed?” I whisper.
Say yes! Say no!

“Hmmmm,
” he groans in my ear, bringing our bodies closer together. Both hands are now at my waist, finding my ribcage underneath the baggy t-shirt I’m wearing to bed. “Do you want me to be?”

“Holy Tardis of Ga
llifrey! You better be wearing at least sweats or I will leave this apartment right now!” I try to snarl, but it comes out in a shrill. I don’t know how to play it cool to save my life. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

Hunter laughs, hugging me close, the rumble in his chest hitting my boobs and my tummy. All this is so new to me, this affection, the way you can share a laugh with only one of you actually only doing it.

He’s not wearing a shirt, and a nipple ring is probably three inches from my mouth.
Jesus Christ
. Hunt guides us to the couch, arranging me so I’m sitting next to him, and arm wrapped around my shoulders. He turns the TV on, so everything has that awful blue glow, but at least it’s light to see with.

“See? I’m wearing
sweats.”

I clear my throat
, ignoring the way his muscles look exceptionally good in the blue glow. And they’re so very close for me to touch. “I think you should put a shirt on, too.”

“No way. I like the way you look at me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m as transparent as the freaking Invisible Man.
Shit.
“
I
don’t like the way I look at you. Please, for the love of Castiel, please put on a shirt for me.” I keep my eyes on the screen, watch a few scenes from
Die Hard
before it goes to commercial
.

“Why?”
His voice is whisper-soft.

“I’m... uncomfortable.”

He snorts. “Baby, I’ve been out of the game for awhile, but the way you look at me, you’re not uncomfortable, are you?”