Never Been Kissed: A Never Been Novel (29 page)

“My ass?
My
ass? Are you fucking kidding me? I have this, this fucking kid hanging around me all the time, reminding me of
her,
” he spits out the last bit like it’s a piece of rancid food. “And you! You’re just making everything worse! I NEVER WANTED HIM IN MY LIFE! I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS SHIT!” Hunter roars, getting his whole body behind it. I wonder if anybody in the adjacent apartments heard him and are now calling nine-one-one.

The cold from the cloth is finally seeping into my hand, and a part of me is proud of myself that I could do that right. The other part is spit-raving angry, and if I had ever been dosed up with gamma rays, I
’d fuck Hunter up real bad and Hulk-out right about now.

I pull in a deep breath through my nose, letting it calm me enough to put the fakest of smiles on m
y face while I position the cloth on Matty’s head where he tells me it hurts most. With instructions to keep it there and sit tight, I crook a finger at Hunter and point him to his bedroom. How could one person be so
infuriating?

Fists clenched, I open his bedroom door and pace. When he closes it
, I let loose... of everything.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, saying those things in front of Matty? Fucking hell, Hunter, what is
wrong
with you?” I can’t help myself, I push him. He wasn’t expecting it, so his back goes up against the wall, and his eyes get wide. “That little boy out there, he’s everything I could ever want in a kid. Do you understand? Matty is everything that’s good in the world. Do you know what it means to come home, and he’s happy to see you? I don’t understand how you can take that love for granted. And then! And then you say those horrible, awful things to him. I don’t fucking care if you didn’t want him, if he wasn’t
planned
. Matty is a
gift
, you fucking asshole, and if you can’t see that, then you need help. Serious fucking help.”

I’m panting,
and I want to punch his face in.

“You know, he told me that you hated him. Hate is a strong word, a word that should only be reserved for people who are truly evil on this planet, and he used it in context with you, his Dad. You know what that says, you asshole? Whatever you’ve been doing for the last four years
of his life has meant fuck-all to him. He gives you his love, and yeah, he’s a kid, and I know he can be annoying, and restless or
whatever
, but that doesn’t give you the right to be a fucking dick back! He’s your son, whether you like it or not! He’s your little boy!”

Hunter’s looking at me with wide eyes, and the way his chest moves up and down in shallow movements, it’s like he’s trying to hold his breath, or he’s afraid to breathe around me.

“I’ve been on the side where my parents couldn’t give a shit, alright? I know what it’s like. I’m not going to sit by and watch you do that to him! I don’t care if I’m not his Mom, I will go to fucking court, and somehow, some fucking way, I will adopt him and you will
never
see him again! Is that what you want? To erase him from your life? You ungrateful bastard. Get the fuck out of my way. I’m taking him to the hospital, and so help me, if you even think of following me, you’re going to get an emergency visit out of it, too.”

I slam out of his room, only to find Matty standing at the door, shoes on, holding the ice to his head. The poor little guy probably heard me. My heart twinges and it makes a small
amount of my fury dissipate just not enough to turn around and listen to what Hunter has to say.

Grabbing Hunter’s keys from the kitchen counter, I rush over with Matty to my place and grab my purse, locking up and taking the stairs with Matty in my arms to get down to the basement. No way am I waiting for any elevator now.

***

I get to the hospital in ten minutes, get my ticket thingie, park and I’m hauling Matty into my arms and running for the emergency department. Signing in, I tell him the clerk behind the
inch-thick pane of glass that Matty has a suspected concussion, and sit down in the waiting room, ready for the long wait. I had the forethought to bring
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
in my purse, but, yeah, great, no phone. As we are in a secluded corner, I put my feet up on the chair beside me, Matty lies down facing me, head on my chest, and I start to read.

I wake him up every time he dozes off, freaking out because I’ve never actually had to stay up with someone whose had a concussion before. I mean, I know what to do in theory, but theory always seems to go flying out the window when you need to actually
do
something.

I wake Matty up again when our name is called, and the doctor in question looks me up and down like I’m the rea
son Matty has a concussion. He asks Matty to repeat his story twice, maybe looking for trip-ups in details or whatever. I just watch and keep quiet.

When the doctor
’s done with his examination, he tells me to watch him for the night, as indeed, yes, he has a concussion. The doctor asked if he threw up and I told him no (which is what Matty told me before). He nods like this is a good thing. He asks if I have Children’s Motrin at home, and that’s the only thing I can give him for any type of pain he might experience. I also need to make sure he doesn’t sleep tonight, which I plan to do.

The doctor gets pissed that I haven’t written anything down, judging me because I look so young, but then I repeat all his instructions back, using his own pompous words like a class act.
The doctor nods, and opens the door to the examination room for us, letting us out. I pick up Matty from the bench, and kiss him on the cheek, hoping to take away some of his pain.

Stepping out into the emergency lobby, my anger has abated, but not completely subsided. Oh, it’s there, waiting for a little blast of wind to ignite it to full-flame. I can’t
believe
Hunter would say such a thing. Or act like that. Or not
be
here, no matter what I said.

I meant what I said before, that I would find a way to adopt Matty. He means that much to me, and if Hunter doesn’t want him, or can’t take care of him properly, then like Katniss Everdeen, I fucking volunteer. The pain and hurt and what happened before doesn’t cross my mind. It does, of course, but it’s like I’m watching it through a glass pane, it’s far a
way and can’t really bother me.

I’m fine with it until I step outside and see Hunter unfold himself out of somebody’s car, stalking towards me like a beautiful god who fell to earth just to haunt me. When the driver’s side door
opens, I want to scream and yell at him for making me
believe
him.

Aly
’s standing there, a triumphant smile on her face.

I feel like I’ve been shot, like I should be stumbling over my feet, falling to my knees at the pain of seeing them both together.
Again
. Even after he told me they were done, over and over. Even after he told me that I’m the only one he said he wanted.

Fucking liar!

I keep walking, pretending I’m staring through Hunter, pretending like my heart isn’t hurting or that I’m so bloody tired that I just want to collapse in a heap on the floor, close my eyes and sleep for a year.

Hunter MacLaine is very hard to look through. Parts of him just grab my attention
, his very presence demands it. He thinks he’s less, diminished when in my eyes he only shines more brightly.

“Daddy!” Matty hollers in my ear, and it feels like a betrayal.
Bloody hell, his
Dad
couldn’t be bothered to have him checked out, but the little snot doesn’t really care about that.

Matty twists his body in my arms, throwing my balance out of whack enough that I have to stomp forward a few steps so my back doesn’t go out. Arms outstretched for Hunter’s chest, I move as close as I dare until Hunter can actually grab a hold of him. Letting go of my cargo, I do the only thing that makes sense to me at that point in time. I fish for his keys in my purse, snagging them after only a few seconds, thank God. It would totally suck that I would want to make a dramatic exit and it gets delayed by the sorry organizational state of my purse.

I can’t touch Hunter, not now, especially not now. I’m so mad, stupid tears are coming to my eyes and my dumb nose is starting to sting. I hate that, I hate that whenever I get too worked up emotionally, my body takes it as a signal to start leaking from my eyeballs. Seriously undermines my street cred of being a total badass.

I make sure Matty’s looking at me while babbling to his Dad about his hospital adventure, having totally forgotten what Hunter yelled about a few hours before. I’d be like that too, though, willing to forget all the painful words, the hurtful accusations if my Dad would hold me like he cared about me. It’s like Matty knows actions speak louder than words, and he’s using
that factoid for all his worth.

I hand the keys to the little man, making sure I don’t touch one inch of Hunter’s
shoulder. I don’t know what Aly is doing, not that I give a fuck. I hope they’ll be fucking happy together. I hope they
drown
in happinessand all that fucking money he’s going to get when his mom dies. Bastards, the whole lot of them.

I paste a smile on my face, but it doesn’t seem to fit, and keeps slipping off like a mask that refuses to stay put. I wave with a jerky movement of my wrist, and start walking away. I have to tell myself to keep walking when Matty starts screaming my name, or when Hunter tries to calm him down. I pretend he’s actually calming his kid down enough so he can yell out for me himself, to tell me to stop, to turn around, to run up to me and explain why he was hanging out with
the slut instead of being with me and his son at the hospital.

He does none of these things, but I can’t help how my back tingles, or how my shoulders hunch up, like they’re getting ready for the sound of his boots hitting the pavement to catch up to me. All I hear
is Aly’s laugh, high and full of mirth. Loud enough to alert everyone within a five mile radius that she got her way. That she won.

That Hunter chose her over me.

I blow out a quick breath, shoving hair behind my ears, then looking into my purse while I walk through the dusk-lit parking lot for my phone, until I realize again I don’t actually have it on me. Doesn’t matter, I can make the walk in forty minutes. Better walk fast.

Walking home from the hospital gives me time to think, no matter how hard I try to concentrate on my footsteps to distract me. Nothing can distract me now from what I just saw, from
my thoughts filled with doubt.

What did I ever see i
n Hunter MacLaine? I’m alone with my thoughts as I make the walk home, still half-hoping he’s going to pull up beside me in his car and offer to drive me home. I shake my head, making the fantasy dissipate like smoke and force myself to look at the harsh reality of it all.

I’m all alone on a darkened street, sneakers pattering on the pavement, the orange glow of streetlights makes it look like the sidewalk is sinister where shadows hold dangerous individuals with ho
ckey masks or chainsaws. I mean they could, and I end up picking up my pace, swallowing past the pain in my throat, refusing to cry or think too much on the hurt until I’m safe in my bed.

I’m good at that – delaying the pain enough that I can function and let myself cry until hours
later.

God, but he
made me
love him. I know I can’t be, statistically speaking, the only female on the planet that this has ever happened to. But Jesus, I was so careful. I knew, I
knew
this was going to happen. I got too attached, with the first fucking man who ever showed me a little bit of attention. I’m pathetic, and so,
so
ashamed.

I run the res
t of the way to my apartment. I take the stairs to my place, broken sounds escaping my mouth even while I cover it with both hands as I run up flight after flight. I won’t be able to hold it in, the pain, the ache in my chest, the humiliation.

My eyes squeeze shut as I get to my door, and the tears fall. I take hoarse breaths, like I’m starving for air, and that pain in my chest, that emptiness, that awful tearing there is
awful enough that I never ever want to feel it again.

The invisible wound in my chest widens to hold a Matty-shape in it, because I’ve lost him, too. I’ve lost the only two people that other than my friends, made me feel like I belonged. God, God,
God
why did I let them mean so much to me, when I knew this was going to happen?

I swallow my misery, and once in my apartment, I lock the door and
decide to take a hot shower. I let myself crumple to the ground in the shower, and wish with all my might that I could erase all the wonderful times we had together, all the sweet things he said to me – even if they were lies and I let myself believe him.

God, he absolutely had to have known how little experience I had, and how easy it would be to play me. Well, I did my part and now I’m done. I’m done with Hunter MacLaine, and his son.

I have to say it over and over when I’m done my shower to make myself believe it. I have to say it with such conviction right before I go to sleep so I don’t dream about him. So I don’t dream or think of what could have been, what should have been if I was different, if I was better, prettier, skinnier. If I looked more like Katie, if I was smarter, if I had a better job.

It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll torture myself with the memories tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, until the pain goes away.

***

I’m one of
those
girls, so completely heart-broken that whenever I try to eat something, it tastes like cardboard so I just don’t bother anymore. I can’t sleep, and when I do, my asshole brain plays all kinds of scenarios, mainly pointing out blatantly what
I
did wrong.

I know this is wrong behavior to be having. There are always two sides to every single story, and I’m using me as the star of the show. Hunter’s to blame, too. I fraking know this. Still, a part of me wants to go and grovel, and beg, and do all those awful things that my pride says
hell, no
to.

I find excuses to stay away from the building ‘cause one of these d
ays I’m going to forget that Aly’s probably over at his place, and they’re playing house, and Matty’s there, too and who’s taking care of him while they fuck each other’s brains out?
Assholes!

When I’m in my apartment, I punish my
self with my spinning bike, pushing myself to spin for sometimes two hours at a time. The minor endorphin high is what keeps me going. And I have the engagement party to go to in two weeks, and they’re all going to
know
that I fell for it, I fell for the sweet words and his beautiful face, and I fell
hard
.

What the fuck was I thinking? That I’d get a Happily Ever After? I did
, Jesus, I so did.

“Broski!” Katie calls out from my living room as I’m sulking in my bedroom. With as few syllables as possib
le, I texted Katie why I refused to socialize and wanted to be alone. Her answer was to show up to my place, probably using some flirtation technique I’ve only ever read about to get the lobby door open and into the elevator.

“I have chocolate brownies, and triple chocolate fudge ice cream, and vanilla cupcakes from that bakery you love!” She yells into my silent apartment. Sounds like there’s five people in here instead of two.

I keep looking out the window, replaying all my answers, what I could have said, what I should have said to have kept him still interested in me. I was just an easy mark and the shame of that burns me like a physical wound. Today marks one week since I brought Matty to the hospital and everything fell apart and Hunter
cheated
on me when he told me he was done with her.
Lying bastard.

Poor Matty probably thinks I abandoned him or something. Just like his non-existent mother. And I left him especia
lly after Hunter blew a gasket on his fury-meter. I’m tired of feeling like this. Without work to keep me pre-occupied, this is what I do – I think. I think and think and make myself feel so low, I don’t know how I’ll ever be healed again.

“The bestie is here!” Katie’s voice echoes in my room, but I still keep looking out the window. “Get your fine ass out of that bed, and we’re going to OD on chocolate tonight. An
d wine. Don’t forget the wine!”

I may have grun
ted an affirmative.

“Jesus, you look like utter shit. W
hen was the last time you ate?”

I don’t answer, but watch her as she comes into my view, and makes her way in front of the window. Now, I’m looking at her abs and boobs. I don’t have the energy to twist my neck up so we can meet eye-to-eye.

“Sweetie, how can we fix it if your refuse to talk?”

I grunt again, in agreement with her s
tatement.

“Alright then, I see how this is going to go. Move over, I’m coming in.” And she uses her body to scooch me over on
my
bed, and moves me out of my warm spot, and into a cold one. “How long have you been lying down? Eight days? Oh, but this is so cozy. Come to think of it, I could seriously use a nap, too, if you don’t mind.”

“I mind,” I growl, hauling
on the sheets and blankets when Katie hogs them.

“She speaks!” Katie raises her arms up at the
ceiling, like ‘look! I did it!’

We’re quiet for a time, my emotional numbness starting to slowly thaw away now that I’m going to have to tell her what happened. I can’t stay immune, even though I need to. I don’t want to tell her what I did, that I fell in love, tha
t I was stupid enough to do so.

“You gonna tell me what happened or am I going to have to guess?” I stay quiet. Katie grunts, and I watch her press a finger to her lips, tappin
g a rhythm out. “You got a horrible, and I mean
horrible
case of PMS?” She turns to look at me, and I keep doing my trick of staring through her.

“Okay, that’s definitely not it. Was
Guardians of the Galaxy
not what you were hoping for? There’s no need to go catatonic over a movie.” I ignore that, too.

“You found out that the actor who plays Jax Teller is gay? Oh my God, Dean Winch
ester is gay! Tom Hiddleston!?”

“You don’t even know who you’re talking about,” I say. My voice sounds dead even to
my
ears.

“Fuck yeah, I know who they are
. Jax Teller, the blonde hottie in
Sons of Anarchy
. The one you’ve been obsessed with since 2008. Let me tell you, I would
not
mind if I rode on the back of his bike.” She holds up another finger, ticking them off, one by one.“Dean Winchester, the shorter hottie on
Supernatural
, where all evil things go bump in the night and want to kill the brothers. They die a lot.”