Never Been Kissed: A Never Been Novel (28 page)

“Find a friend at school who makes you laugh, or who you can play hide and seek with and doesn’t mind if you get tired too fast.”

“I don’t know anybody like that.” He looks so crestfallen, shoulders slumping.
“I bet you do, you’re just not thinking properly. I think you have a bad memory, kid. Any other boys or girls?”

His eyes light up with a memory. “Candace likes Harry Potter, too! She told me one time, when we were sittin
g next to each other at lunch.”

“How do yo
u know she likes Harry Potter?”

He looks at me like I’m not very bright. “She said
his name, Sera.”

“Right,” I nod.
Crisis averted, I think.

“Good morning, kid,” Hunter’s morning-voice floats to me from the Matty’s doorway. Frak, how long has he been standing there? I’m kind of scared to look –
is he wearing a shirt? Sweats? I can’t handle Hunter-in-boxers this morning, not after what happened last night.

Parenting is hard.

“Hi, Daddy! I’m hungry.” Whatever tension had passed between us moments ago is gone at the sight of his Dad. Maybe he doesn’t want his Dad to know what he’s going through.

“Eggs and bac
on?”

“Uhhhhhh,” Matty says, “are
there sausages? I like sausages better.”

Hunter smirks, and looks at me now that I’m sitting up and facing him. “Yeah, I got that, Matty. Brush your teeth and come help. We’re going to make Sera breakfas
t today.”

I see Matty in my peripheral vision tilt his head to the side.

“How come?”

I feel like Hunter wants to rub his skull-trim, a sure sign that he’s uncomfortable. Instead, the smirk on his face explodes out into a full-blown smile.
Wow
. They could bottle that and enslave the whole female population.

“Sometimes when someone makes you feel happy, you do things for them without saying thank you,” Hunt tells him, keeping his eyes locked on me. Well, if that doesn’t just
warm me right up.
I
will
not swoon. Who am I kidding - I can’t feel my knees.

“Why
can’t you just say thank you?”

“How many times are you going to say thank you to Sera for reading t
o you every single night, huh?”

Turning to him, Matty looks at Hunter with a puzzled look. Kind of like Hunter is asking him a tri
ck question. I try not to grin.

“I say it every night.” He looks at me. “I tell you every night, don’t I? I love reading Harry Potter with you! Thank you, Sera!” Little arms wind around my neck and I
get a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, kid. Just remember what I said for now.” Hunter looks at me
again, smiling. He looks really good, despite his sugar being high. “C’mon, buddy. Go brush your teeth, and put some socks on. I’m starting with or without you in five minutes.”

Matty scrambles out of bed, taking a flying leap off the far side, closest to the door and Hunter, colliding with his
Dad’s sweatpant-covered legs. The little guy just pushes off his Dad and heads for the bathroom.

I have a hard time swallowing what little saliva I have left when Hunter steps up close to me and crouches down so we’re eye-level.
Gulp
.

His hand winds at the back of my neck, wa
rm and steady and comforting.

“How are you?”

I frown. “I’m hungry, actually.” I don’t ask the question I need to know.
How long were you standing there, anyway? Like for a second, or did you hear my whole pathetic little speech?

“S’not what I meant, but I’ll give it
to you this one time.” He kisses me on the cheek, then at the corner of my mouth, then smack on my lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm pools of blue, and he has this tiny smile on his face that I feel is just for me.

“We have to talk, you and I.”

“Alright,” I say, swallowing hard. My hands have fisted in my sweats, and I lick my lips, watch his eyelids get heavy, and his gaze zeroes in on my mouth.

“Another time. When you can have the space you n
eed to do what you need to do.”

I scowl. “Cryptic much? You’re worse than
The Riddler,
you are.”

His smile turns sad. The corners are still turned up, sure, but the rest of his face falls, and whatever bit of happiness was glowing out of his face before is no longer there for me to see.

“I have to be. You’ll understand soon.”

I hold up a hand between us. “As of this moment, are you a dru
g dealer?”

“No.”
Good answer.

“Do you have a criminal record?” Hunter shakes his head. “Do you think you
should
have a criminal record?”

“Depends who you talk to.”

I frown again, feeling that heat that burned my body plummet to subzero.

“Uh, not inspir
ing confidence over here.”

“I wasn’t the best of people when I was younger, alright? I promise you that my life has changed since then. I just need to tell you so you know whose mouth you’re
kissing.”

I nod relucta
ntly. “Have you killed anyone?”

“Not me.”

There’s something there in that answer, I know it, I can
feel
it in my gut. I rationalize it away. I knew Hunter was a badass, but I guess he was involved in some shit before he met me, before he had Matty.

He wouldn’t want to ruin a potential future with Matty, now would he? I mean, suspicious activity, nefarious activity would bring the cops here and Matty would go to
foster care!

Over my dead body.

“You swear to God you’re not involved in any more illegal activity? Like you’re a hundred percent squeaky clean?”

Hunter gets closer to me, forcing me to open my legs so his stomach and torso hit either side of my inner thighs a
s his arms wrap around my back.

“I’ll swear to Bruce Wayne if you want. I prom
ise you that is all over with.”

“Then why all the secrecy? What could be so bad about what happened years ago?”

“I want you to know about me, the bad and the repulsive. Only then will I be deserving of you. I swear to Christ I’ll never let you down. Ever. You can count on me.” His eyes are blazing and his mouth is set in a sharp line. His whole body is tense, waiting for my answer. Maybe even willing me to believe him.

I stare at his beautiful face, and go over my options. If he says he’s clean, then he’s clean. And I mean, no one has a perfect past, right?

“I need you to answer me first.” Hunter nods. “You think I’m important in your life?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you think I’m important enough and Matty’s important enough in your life that whatever happened in the past will make me run away from you both?”

He c
lenches his jaw. “Yeah.”

I nod slowly. “And you think once I know the truth, and nothing but the truth, I’m going to run away screaming, right?” He nods again. “And you’re hoping I can perform some sort of miracle and stay with you?” Another nod. “Well, wh
o the hell do you think I am?”

“I think y
ou’re better than Bruce Wayne.”

My eyes flare, and my eyebrows pop high on my forehead. “Bruce Wayne sav
es people. He’s a hero,” I say.

Hunter grins, and pulls me close enough that our mouths touch. When he’s there, he doesn’t kiss me, but keeps on speaking. “Baby, you
saved me that day in the hall.”

Fraking hell, there’s no way I’m running from him now.

I just got home from work and I’m not expecting company. That knock on the door comes again, more ins
istent this time.

Hunter won’t be home for a couple of hours, and my friends have been AWOL with the exception of Katie, who I get texts from on a regular basis. I look over into my kitchen, wondering if I should zip in and grab a knife from the drawer, the real sharp kind that has scalpel-like properties.

I ninja creep to the peephole, holding my breath and stare through it. I fall back on my heels a bit too hard from surprise, cracking my ankles. I unlock the door, and usher Tommy in with my empty hands. Lucky for him I don’t have any weapons.

“Thanks,” he says, and even that word infuriates me. I give his shoes a scathing look, and he gets the unspoken message to take them off.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure, Russia?” I move to the living room (safer for him) and sit on my couch. I watch him toe his shoes off, and stare around my place, looking more than a little apprehensive.

We
are
alone, and I
did
try to punch his face in.

Tommy
sighs, joining me on my couch, making sure he’s on the far end.

“I volun
teered to bring the happy news,” he says, eyes settling on his thighs, rubbing up and down on his slacks.

I really,
really
wish I could pop an eyebrow up.

“You’ve decided to get a vase
ctomy so you don’t breed?” I suggest.

The way his shoulders tense up a little and his body stiffens makes me feel like a bitch, but tough. I didn’t fraking
ask
him to say those things to Hunter, or to me.

“I deserve that. I really do.” He looks at me like I’m going to protest
this statement. “I came to tell you that Alex and Teresa have gotten engaged.”

“WHAT!?!” Tommy flinches at the sound barrier I have broken with only my voice, and watches me as I get up from the couch and hop up and down, booty s
haking and all. “Are you kidding me? When? Where? Did he get down on one knee and everything?!”

Tommy’s face is impossible to read. Stoic yes, but there might as well be a stone wall between us for all the good
it does me to try and read him.

“Earth to Russia, what the hell? You gonna answer my questions, or do I have to start making calls?” I ask, waving a hand in front of
his face.

His eyes are soft when he finally focuses on me
. “I’m sorry I was a fucking asshole last time. There’s no excuse for what I said. I know I’m sorry doesn’t cover what I did, or how I treated you, but I hope that punch made you feel better. How’s your hand by the way?” Russia and remorse do
not
go together, but here he is.

“Cast came off three weeks ago.” Now he’s acting weird. Maybe he’s never apologized before, like
really
apologized. His words are stilted like he’s never used them before.

“I was a dick and an asshole, and whatever other word y
ou want to use to describe me.”

“Then why in hell did you say it?
Why did you say those things to me?”

He winces, and looks away. “It sort of just came out
, you know?”

I cross my arms over my chest, an
d join him on the couch in the furthest seat away from him.

“Fuck, I
just saw you bring the plate to him, and I know how you make a giant fuss when one of us cracks a joke about it. And you know how sexy my imagination is, everything turns to that, and it just popped out of my mouth, and fuck, your face. It was like you didn’t know whether to be angry or start crying. That look was hard to take. I didn’t sleep well that night, let me tell you.”

“Good. And for the record, when I was staring at y
ou, I was plotting your death.”

Tommy
grimaces and rubs his mouth. Stares out to my balcony, refusing to make eye contact with me. “Was it bad?”

“It was
more of a feed your own guts to you variety. It was very therapeutic at the time before I decided to bust your face in.”

He lets out a little yelp of surprised laughter. “I had to tell my boss
I got an elbow in the face playing soccer.”

“Did he believe it?”

Tommy shrugs and finally looks at me. “I think so. I mean, not a lot of people would believe a friend would do that to me.”

“They would
’ve asked for the reason behind it, and you know it. Always covering your own ass. How are you going to get a girl like that?”

Tommy shrugs,
staring off into the distance. “Anyway, sorry for going off on a tangent. Alex proposed on Friday night, where Teresa worked, and yes he got down on one knee. Like a boss.”

I smile at him, even
though he’s not looking at me.

“I also wanted to tell you that the engagement party is three Saturday’s from tomorrow and Hunter is welcome to come. We’re doing it at his parent’s restaurant, and it’s a black-tie affair. No jeans, or
your shirts, alright?”

“You love my
shirts, you’re just too afraid to admit it, Russia.”

He grins at me, and leans forward t
o kiss my hand. Hunter does it so much better. “I’ve got to go now, I ended up double-parking in front of the building. I’ll see you at the engagement party?”

“You
will. Thanks for stopping by.”

“Anything for you, kitten.”

I move to the doorway, rushing my steps so I get there first to let him out. He leaves, giving me a half-wave with three fingers. I salute him and close my door.
Wow. Alex.
Engaged.

Maybe we are living in an alternate universe. I don’t think any of us
ever
thought he would get engaged first, or even at all. Huh. Yeah, that alternate universe theory is looking better and better.

It feels like the right
place to be.

***

I walk over to Hunter’s place as soon as I hear their door close. I can also hear that Matty is full-on sobbing, not the tantrum kind of not getting anything to go his way, but hurting crying, like he’s gone and scraped both knees and hands.

I didn’t know it would be like this. To feel so much for such a little person that I’m not even sure he understands my love for him
. Or the way it makes me sick and helpless to hear him cry like that.

I knock on the door and wait for Hunter to open it for me. When he does, I take a half-step back at the look on his face.
His skin’s tight over his cheekbones, his eyes are too bright in his face, and the rim of his mouth is white. He looks...lost.

Heart in my throat, I swallow down the panic and the concern and move into his apartment, looking for Matty. If I can calm him down, I can do the same for Hunter.

“He’s just having a tantrum,” Hunt says, turning away from me once he closes and locks the door. He stalks to the kitchen on stiff legs and opens the fridge. I watch with a sick fascination as he pulls out a syringe from his stash from a nearby drawer, and upends the vial of his insulin and sticks in his syringe. I watch him pull out fifteen units, do some complicated things where he shoves the liquid back in to get rid of the air bubbles only to repeat the process. When he’s done that, he shoves his back to me, and I know he’s injecting himself.

I’m surprised to find myself more than a little miffed that he’s doing that.
Hunter’s shutting me out. Just like before.

What the fuck happened?

“Sera! Sera!” Matty winds himself around my legs and I can feel his tears and snot soaking through my jeans. The violent part of me wants to snarl and promise that I’ll hurt every single one of those kids back before the rational part of my brain steps in.

“What happened today, kid?” I ask, voice soft, as I unwind his arms and go to my knees on the floor. I settle on my heels so that we’re almost eye-level and wipe away his tears, and have to stifle a grin when he rubs his nose along his arm.

“I was playing with Candace, just like you said, and we were playing Harry Potter.” I imagine the pair of them holding little twigs in the yard and shouting out weird things for spell names and acting them out. “And then Jack came along and pushed me to the ground and I hit the swing in the yard and now my head really really hurts!”

“Did you push him back?”
The vindictive part of me asks.

He shakes his head and his face crumples up and more tears come. “I couldn’t even stand up after I fell. Everything was turning and my tummy still hurts!”
he sobs.

I palm hi
s face and look into his eyes. Shit. I get up and turn the kitchen light on, go back to Matty and tilt his chin up so his eyes are in the direct line of the light. His pupils aren’t shrinking. Fuck a duck.

“Hunter, he has a concussion!” No answer, not even a sound of movem
ent. I look into the kitchen. Hunter’s standing still with his back to me, arms on either side of himself on the counter, holding up his weight. His head is down, his whole body sagging onto his hands.“Hunter? We need to go to the hospital.”

“No! No hospital!” Matty yells, moving out of my hands only to stumble on the flat surface of the floor and h
it the ground again on his ass. His whole body moves like a bobblehead, probably making his concussion worse.

Hunter still hasn’t answered me. My palms are clammy, and I rub them up and do
wn on my jeans.

“Okay, Matty. Just calm down. Sit there, and don’t move. I’m going to get you some ice, okay? And I’ll give you something for the pain.” The words come out like a trained professional, all the right answers but inside I’m full of fireworks of emotion. Worry, lots and lots of worry that gnaws at my gut like it’s a living thing. Confusion at Hunter’s reaction and why he didn’t take him to the hospital straight away. Hot guilt flooding my cheeks because I didn’t come over sooner. Helplessness when I think of all the coulda-woulda-shouldas that might have happened instead. A pox on the little kid who pushed him
and
the horse he rode in on. Christ, I don’t mean that, but maybe I do.

I scramble into the kitchen, opening the freezer
for ice. Right, I need a cloth. In three steps I’m in Hunter’s bathroom, searching the cupboards for small hand towels or whatever. Snagging my target, I rush back into the kitchen and pour water over it in the sink. Damn, I left the freezer open. Pulling out the ice tray and do the twisting
crack-crack
thing and pull out four ice cubes.

“Stop what you’re doing. He’s fine,” Hunter says from beh
ind me. I fumble with the ice cubes, trying to find the best angle to put them in the cloth so when I roll it up, the cold will seep through, and not spill them out.

“He’s not fine. He has a fraking concussion. I can’t believe t
his. Didn’t anybody at the daycare tell you?” I growl, finally rolling up the cloth, and getting ready to move around the counter. A hand around my bicep halts my progress, and I feel like the Roadrunner - legs moving faster than the eyes can see, eating into the ground but not moving anywhere.

“He’s fucking fine, Sera. He just needs to stop crying over every fucking little thing
that bothers him.”

My body jerks
. “What did you say?” I know what he said, and worst of all, I know Matty heard every single word. “What the
hell
did you just say?!”

“Stop coddling him!
You’re going to make him worse!”

I tear my arm out of his grasp, and turn to give him a death glare. A death glare so great, it would send Dean Winchester into fits of hysteria.

“He has a concussion. Is that clear enough for you? His brain is
swollen
. We have to take him to the hospital.”

“He’s not your kid!” Hunter yells in my
face, eyes blazing with fury.

“I don’t fucking care. You’re not taking care of him, so I WILL! Step asid
e! God, what is up your ass?”