Never Been Kissed(102)

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 to 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 his 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 movement. 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 hit 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 down on my jeans.