Never Been Kissed: A Never Been Novel (22 page)

I need to fix this.

“C’mon, let’s get you to daycare.” I pick him up, and grateful that Hunter has unlocked the doors for us, get him in his car seat and ready to go. I put my purse in the passenger seat and walk out to meet Hunter who’s still pacing.

I step in front of him and block his path. His whole body shudders to a stop, like an engine that sputters until its death. I shouldn’t be thinking about death.

“Let’s get going,” I say, voice low and soothing as much as I can make it.

Hunter just shakes his head, and jams his fists into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Sera, he could have died. God, he could have died.” His big body shakes, and I move closer to wrap my arms around his waist, inserting myself between his arms and his ribs. “He’s all I have
left, and he could have died.”

“Bu
t he didn’t. You saved him, Superman. You were incredible, you really were. I’m sorry I couldn’t move. I’ve never reacted that way before.” I listen to the beating of his heart underneath my ear, and wait for his arms to wrap around me.

“He’s my responsibility. You shouldn’
t need to do anything for him.”

Oh, frak, I don’t like that. I lean back to look at him, push as far back as I can with his hands twined together at the small of my back.

“I want to help. Jesus, Hunt, I’d do anything for that kid. I love him.” There, I said it.

“Why?”

“Why, what? Why do I love him?”

“Yeah. Why?”

I frown. “Are you serious? Have you met him? He’s like sunshine and chocolate and Peter Pan and all the good things in the world. He’s pure and he’s bright like a star. He’s sweet and kind and knows a little too much of how his diabetes affects him and we’re going to need to change that.” I plant both palms on his pecs, feel the drum of his heart beneath my fingertips.

A cruel smile twists Hunt’s lips. “Still think I’m amazing t
hat I nearly lost Matty today?”

My eyebrows drop down low and I shake my head. “Amazing doesn’t mean infallible. Remember that. Now, come on. I need to get to work,
and Matty needs to get to daycare. God, I could sleep for two weeks after what just happened. Adrenaline. Crash.”

Hunter’s quiet for some ti
me, then he leans closer to me.

“Wait, what are you doing?” My hands go to his chest to stop him from moving forward. Nerves explode
i[]n my belly, tension tightening all my muscles.

“I need to kiss you, alright?”

“Uh, in front of Matty? You sure that’s a good idea? God, he’s going to need so much therapy after this.”

“Sera, I want to kiss you. I need it. Matty is going to see us kissing, like normal couples do. Please, just kiss me. M
ake me forget the last twenty minutes.”

Hunter has a way with words. Good to know. I lean up, using his chest as leverage. When our mouths meet, it isn’t the lightest brushing of lips, or us getting accustomed to the feel of the other. No, Hunter’s mouth on mine is hard and demanding, beautiful and luscious.

My hands reach up for either side of his neck, going into his hair and getting the tickles from his skull-trim along my palms. Hunter lifts me –
lifts me up
– clear off the floor so that our heights aren’t any different, and I kiss him for all I’m worth.

I didn’t know so many emotions could change a kiss. A kiss can be desperate, it can be a seduction, even an angry proclamation of dislike. Ours is desperate but the kind of desperation of not having enough time with each other for the moment. Ours is seductive the way our tongues stroke each other, and the way he licks at me, and nips at my lips coaxing me to give him everything he wants. Ours is angry because instead of just giving, I take, too, and right now,
Hunter needs to be in control.

Letting go of his bottom lip, my feet drop down to the ground and I have to stand there, swaying, using him as support before I can collect myself and go back to the car.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Can’t. Plans with Katie,” I pant. “I’ll come over and read Matty t
o bed and kiss you good night.”

“Deal,” he grins and kisses the tip of my nose.
“Shit. I think I need a juice.”

“Oh, oh! I have one in
my purse. Which is in the car.”

I’m pulled short, my forward momentum halted with a hand at my bicep. I twist around to look at Hunter.
“Why do you have a juice in your purse?”

“I have several juices in my purse, plus sugar tablets. In case you and Matty get lows when we’re together. I’m like the boy scouts, I’m always prepared.” I grin, but lose it when I see the look on h
is face. ‘What’s the big deal?”

“I’m...I’m not sure. I guess I’ve been doing it on my own so long, I’m not sure how to react with you having everything ready.” He rubs his head as he opens t
he passenger door for me. “I’m going to need you to drive. Please.”

“That I can do. Buckle up.” I walk to the driver’s side and wait for Hunter to hand me the keys after I’ve given him the apple juice box I stowed in my purse. He drinks it in two seconds flat, bef
ore I even hit the garage door.

“I’m gonna drive to work first since I’m running late. You think you’ll be okay to drive Matty to daycare after, or you want me
to go there first? Be honest.”

“I don
’t like admitting I need help.”

I shrug. “Everybody needs help. Even Superman needs
Batman’s help once in a while.”

“Iron Ma
n is better than Batman, Sera.”

I grin into the rearview mirror at Matty. “You want to get into a rumble kid? Name the time and place.” I get a giggle. All is right in the
world again. At least, I hope.

“Go to work, the juice should kick in by then. If not, I’ll park and wait around
another twenty minutes. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Sera...why did you kiss Daddy?”

I almost swallow my tongue and sputter out a cough. “Uh, well, technically,” I say, “he kissed me, so you should be asking him that question.” Evasive maneuvers completed. “Actually, it’s because your dad wants to be my boyfriend.”

“Is that true, Daddy?” Matty asks, voice floating to us from the backseat. I don’t look at Hunter, but my heart does a little dance, and my throat’s too tight to spe
ak. I’m waiting for his answer.

Lie to me, Hunter, but never lie to Matty. Never Matty.

Hunt sighs, settling deeper into the seat. “It’s true, buddy. Is that cool with you?”

I almost blow through a stop sign before I realize that I need to
stop
looking at the rearview mirror and trying to study Matty’s face. But I do it anyway, even after I brake hard to catch the stop line in time.

The little guy’s face is deep in thought, his blue eyes shrewd as he glances at the back of our heads, coming to his decision. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and I wonder if I should turn on the A/C to cool myself down. I swear to the Winchesters that I might be having some sort of psychotic break.

“Does that mean Sera is my mommy now?”

Oh. Oh, no. I squash down that happy thrill in my gut, and the warmth in my chest, because yes, yes I do want to be his Mom. It would be my honor to be his mom. But isn’t she out there somewhere already? Doesn’t she
know who she’s missing out on?

“How about we say that I’m your Daddy’s girlfri
end for now, okay, little man?”

Checking in the rearview mirror again, I can see his little eyebrows are furrowed over his eyes, and his lips mashed together. A four year old version of a mad face. Too cute
to be mad at or take seriously.

Hunter is quiet beside me, so I keep driving on, fiddling with the radio until Def Leppard’s ‘Pour some sugar on me’ comes on the rock station and Matty starts s
inging it, all the raunchy lyrics, too.

Hunter joins me, and the disquiet I felt from before evaporates like it never was.
I get to work on time, double-park on the side of the road.

“You feeling better?” I ask, pulling Hunter’s hand into my lap. I rub my thumb along the tips of his fingers – callused and pockmarked with holes.

He stares at me, blue eyes full of questions. I tilt my head to the side, a silent invitation. His lips press into a thin line, and he rubs his skull-trim with his free hand. When I squeeze his fingers, he doesn’t squeeze back.

“Still think I’m amazing?” he says, voice almost splintering but his eyes are hard, resolute. He’ll take whatever answer I give him, good o
r bad, like the warrior he is.

My heart constricts, and I take a deep breath through my nose. I lean closer to him, tossing Matty a grin when I catch a glimpse of him through the corner of my eye.

“I don’t kiss losers,” I whisper right before our lips touch. “I kiss only badasses. And you are a badass, Hunter MacLaine.” I kiss him sweet, a touch of lips with the promise of more for later, when we’re alone.

“Gross!” Matty yells from the back. “You’
re hurting my eyes, my eyes!”

I snicker, and go back to my space of the car, turning off the ignit
ion, and unbuckle my seat belt.

“You’re hurting my ears with all
your yelling, Matty.” I say, twisting to grab at his ankle and tickle his leg. “Do you want me to be Daddy’s girlfriend or not, huh?”

I shouldn’t’ve asked that. I realize my mistake too late and end up choking back an explanation for the question. Like why I am such a dork, a giant, humongous dork.

“Only if you read me Harry Potter from here until forever.”

The moment passes, the tension bleeds out of the car. I didn’t know I was chewing my lip so hard until I taste the tang of blood on my tongue. Super. God
damn
that’s a spectacular answer!

“
I can do that. It’s a promise.”

I smile at Matty, and move to get out of the car. Leaving the driver’s side open, I move into the backseat door, open it and give Matty a wet kiss and a raspberry on his cheek. “See yo
u later for Harry’s adventure?”

“
Bye, Sera! Have fun at school!”

Cute. So cute. He thinks
I’m going to school. Adorable.

I crawl back out, and shut the door. Cars honk at us as I right myself, but I ignore them. I mean, the hazard lights are
on.
Are you blind?

The breeze ruffles my hair, and the morning sun beats down on my shoulders. It’s going to be hot today, as in, I’ll be wishing for Montreal winters all day long. I spin around, and find Hunter standing in front of me. His hands go to my waist, warm and comforting. I wait for him to be an asshole, to pinch my fat and sneer in my face, and remind me that I’m going to die alone because who would ever want me? But he
doesn’t do that. He never has.

Instead his thumbs caress up and down my belly, sending sparks into my skin, into my blood. My hands have found his biceps, and are clutching the muscle. More honking from cars that are passing us by. They may as well be all wearing invisibility cloaks
for the attention I give them.

“Sera...” Hunt says, staring at me with such intensity it feels like he knows all my secrets, all my thoughts, everything that
is
me. He’s stripped me bare with a look and I want to run and hide away, and tell him I can be better, I can
look
better if he just gives me the chance. No one has looked inside me and has seen the good, has seen the beauty. I’ve always been ugly. Always.

But Hunter doesn’t make me feel so ugly. He makes me think there’s more to me than just a word, that I’m more than a body and long
hair, and hazel eyes. I’m more than that. He sees that, and I think I can start to see it, too.

His hands at my waist become arms around my upper back, and I have two seconds to twist my neck so my cheek and temple rest on his shoulder before I get a broken nose. A hand pets my hair, from the crown of my head to the middle of my back, only to be done again and again. His lips get to
my forehead, touching me there.

“Hunt? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, baby.” His voice is hoarse, thick with an emotion I’m not sure I have a name for. It could be self-loathing and self-pity rolled into one. It could be sorrow. It could be a sick gratefulness for life when you want it to be over. I don’t know, but I don’t like it. “I’m fine. My girl thinks I’m amazing. How much more okay can I be?”
Frak. He’s hurting and I don’t know why.

“I’m sorry that I have to go in now. But call me anytime today, and I can talk. I promise.” His blue eyes search my face when I pull back but he doesn’t let me go, like it isn’t an option. He’s starting to scare me. Icy fear trickles down my spine, down my throat, freezing me from the inside out.

“Sure, Sera.”

I wrap him up in my arms. Now I’m the one refusing to let go. I stare up at him, seeing through the mask he’s wearing, a finely cultivated piece of his face that hides what his eyes are blazing with.

My heart hurts just looking at him, at his need to keep up a front, in front of me. I thought we were passed that. But maybe I’m being insensitive. He nearly lost his son today – me, only two acquaintances that have made me (in my eyes, anyway) feel like I’m a better person.

I grit my teeth, anger
chasing the fear and pain away.

“If you don’t call me at least two times today so I know you’re okay, I’m going to make the Daleks look like fluffy little poodles
. You get me, Hunt?”

His mouth twitches and the world fuzzes out into red before coming back clear.
“I don’t know what a Dalek is.”

I bare my teeth because the jackass is
laughing
at me. Like he doesn’t understand the seriousness of my comment. “The Daleks are an alien race that have had every emotion removed from them except hate. They hate all non-Dalek life, and will conquer and destroy all of it. You piss me off today, and things will not go well.”

His eyebrows pop up on his head, and he licks his lips. His eyes go beyond me, to the car, until he can’t help himself and breaks out into a full smile.

“I’ll call you. Christ, how do you get me to laugh when I don’t want to?”

A line from an old Ray Charles song pops into my head. “’I put a spell on you, and
now you’re mine.’”

Hunter stares at me, again for what feels like a long time. I start to get worried about Matty sitting in the warm car. Not the most comfortable place in the world. But now it feels like I’m under Hunter’s spell and I can’t move until he lets me.

He opens his mouth, closes it, only to open it again. Thinking better of speaking, he shakes his head, and stares down at me with a happier face. He touches his mouth to mine, a kiss that means more than the action itself.

I love you, Hunter MacLaine
.

What. The. FRAK?

Oh, God, oh God. Did I say that out loud?

Hunter’s mouth
touches mine again and again, like he’s trying to get the truth out of me, but frak, those words are going under padlock and key, under palmprint and retinal scan and a funny password that’ll change every hour deep inside me.

“I’m expecting you after dinner, baby,” he whispers against my mouth, and my dumb heart trips up like I’m not used to this. But I’m not used to this. Having someone so close and wanting them even closer
.

I think I make an affirmative sound, since with one more squeeze to my uppe
r back, and one last feather-kiss, Hunter gets into the driver’s seat and cranks the engine over. I force my legs to walk up the parking lot, and climb up the stairs without looking back, even though every muscle wants to riot against that order and get one last look of my boys taking off for the day.

Stop being so pathetic, you’re going to see him i
n nine hours, anyway. Calm down.

I try to take my own advice, but it’s hard.

***

Nothing happens for weeks and weeks
and weeks. Hunter never pushes me, never asks for more than I can give, and it’s starting to worry me. So I do something that calms me when I get nervous, or feel uncertain about my future.

I buy nerdy shirts.

I may have overstepped my bounds. Probably. Most definitely. Yeah, I did.

I bought Matty a nerdy t-shirt that says ‘I am a Jedi like my father before me’. I’m not sure Hunter will get it since he’s never seen
Star Wars
which I plan to fix tonight.

St
ill. I don’t know how to proceed here. I’m not Matty’s mom, do I even have a right to want to clothe him in nerd-gear? And what if Hunter wants his son to be totally nerd free? I mean, he already knows about Harry Potter, why not the rest?

My logic is flawless.

I knock on the door, wearing jeans and yup, a nerdy shirt that says ‘Run like Loki Laufeyson is waiting for you at the finish line.’ What I wouldn’t give to have Tom Hiddleston in full Loki costume at the finish line of a race. Probably my right kidney. To be honest, I’d give my entire nerd collection, and watch it burn to ash to have Hunter there waiting for me. Even if he doesn’t know my secret; that he’s stolen my heart.

Not that I’m going to tell him anytime soon, because
it’s madness, and I don’t want to be Sparta-kicked into a pit of despair. No, thanks. I knock on Hunter’s apartment door, waiting for him to let me in.

“Hi,” I say, overcome with shyness. Jesus, it’s not like I’m walking in naked!

My hand is grabbed, while the one with Matty’s t-shirt is hidden behind my back as a surprise. Hunter kisses my knuckles, and drags me forward until, having no hands to stop the collision, I collide with his chest with an
oof
, and stare up at him while I watch his eyes darken and his nostrils flare. His face gets closer and closer until I lose focus, fluttering my eyes closed until I get his mouth on mine.

I didn’t know there were different types of kisses that went with moods. I mean, duh, I’ve read about it, but to experience it is something else. Hunter licks at my mouth, and when I open for him, his tongue tangles with mine, dominating mine so I can’t
breathe or think. He tastes me, a growl rumbling in his throat, his hands at my hips dragging me closer and closer to him until I feel him hard against my belly.