Never Been Kissed(24)

Hunter wipes his face with his napkin. The movement is refined, cultured. “Like in Vulcan or something?”

My heart stutters, something in my lower belly pulses.

“Figures you know Spock. So logical and emotionless all the damn time.” I stop fiddling with my napkin when I see the change come over him.

His shoulders tense, his nostrils flare. A muscle ticks at either side of his jaw, keeping time with his anger. Well, shit.

“Spare me your wrath, Dark Overlord,” I snarl, leaning over the table, elbows and forearms flat to the surface. I’ve forgotten about Matty. “I made a comment. You don’t have to bloody combust and get your curlies in a twist.”

I’ve entered the danger-zone. A badass isn’t just one thing. A badass can be a guy who owns the clothes he’s wearing, from the finest of fabrics to a pair of ratty sweats.A badass is a person who doesn’t give a fuck of what anyone thinks of him or her. In one sentence: a badass is someone who can take care of themselves in any situation.

Hunter is a badass.

I’m not. But I want to be so, so badly.

“Calm yourself, man. What is so bad here? You’ve got an awesome kid.” I point to Matty. “Awesome company,” I point to myself. “You’re the only one ruining the party.”

Hunter’s jaw works, but he keeps his mouth shut. Point... me?

I order more water when the waitress does her courtesy call. Hunter doesn’t even look at her, his eyes stay locked on Matty. It’s like I’m dead and gone – I don’t exist anymore.

“You know, it’s not hard to figure out who the real four year old is here.” I say, equal parts elated and appalled at what just came out of my mouth. I’ve never spoken to a guy like this before. Okay, fine, a guy I’m attracted to.

Hunter’s eyebrows pole-vault the expanse of his forehead and end up high. “Did you just compare me to Matty?”

My lower lip might have trembled, and I know I’m blushing. I notch my chin higher, and pretend I’m more powerful than Dumbledore. “Yes. I did.”

Hunter leans back against the vinyl, his stupid long legs causing his knees to collide with mine. “You think you’re brave, dealing with me and the kid for one night?”

What the hell? “Is that a joke?” I ask, ignoring Matty’s humming, and the way he makes our side of the booth sort of bounce as we swings his legs.

Hunter’s face might as well be carved from marble; his features give nothing away. “I’m not the one who always has their nose in a book.”

Smackdown. I have a death grip on my fork, and I’m trying to decide which eye to go for. “What? You’ve seen me, like three, four times? Yeah, I read a lot. Big deal. You’re just pissed I took care of you yesterday. Swallow down that excess testosterone, Hunter, and say thank you.” I don’t know how these words are coming out of my mouth. I mean, yeah, I know how, but fraking shit, I’ve never never spoke to anyone like this. I’ve never been this snarky, or angry, or defensive. But Christ, I feel like I could take on Lord Voldemort and Crowley in one go right now.

His mouth twists then flattens, and he does the unthinkable. He laughs. At me.

I get a searing pain behind one eyeball, and feel the muscle right under my eyebrow start to twitch. Pulse, pulse, pulse. I sink my teeth into the inner meat of my lip, and try to breathe through my nose. Maybe he’s not laughing at me. Maybe he’s not making fun of me. Fuck this.

I throw a twenty on the table and lean over to kiss Matty on the cheek, telling him I have to go. I don’t say goodbye. If I don’t say it, I can pretend it’s not really there.





I bought a spinning bike a month ago, and had it lugged over to my new place when I moved in.

I kick my own ass anywhere from half an hour to forty five minutes a day. I spin on that thing, running through my workout playlist over and over, concentrating neither on the words or moments of the day.

No, I’m thinking about the fraking arsehole next door and I’m thinking of Matty.

I’m punishing myself for hoping, for thinking I could keep on existing in my dream world, in my safe haven of books and movies. Even two weeks after Hunter’s gotten out of the hospital, and we had our disastrous breakfast. Jerk!

This is real – having a university degree and stuck working a shit job because you’ll take anything you can get until you can move up. This is real – sweat and sore muscles because I have the tendency to enjoy chocolate a bit too much. This is real – wanting something you can’t have and trying to deal with it.

Doesn’t help that I got to interact with a sweet little kid who happens to share fifty percent of the arsehole’s DNA. And I fell in love with that little kid – his giggles, his smile, the way he called me beautiful without expecting anything in return. Matty made me happy even if I was stressed to the max. I hoard things that make me happy, hence the substantial collection of movies and books, and all sorts of nerdy things that bring a smile to my face.