I’m so badass, I run my hands along his scalp. The sound he makes almost sounds like a purr. “Well, yeah. I don’t see horns sprouting out of your head, and your chompers don’t have any sharp edges to suck my blood with. Unless you’re a werewolf?”
“I like how you make me laugh when I’m trying to be serious,” he says, and kisses my cheek. My heart does a happy dance, and something warm hits my belly. Shit, I really, really like him.
“I like making people laugh.” I state, clearing my throat. “Still, I don’t know why you’re telling me this up front. Or why you want to date me. What about Alysha?”
“I’ll deal with Aly. She and I were over last month, my mom just doesn’t know it yet.” He says the words like he’s biting them off a piece of raw steak. “All you need to worry about is you and me. I don’t lie, Sera, but you don’t know that much about me to get that. You’ll learn, soon enough. I don’t cheat; my asshole father did enough of that. I don’t do drugs, or drink out of hand – I have Matty to look after.”
I nod, blink slowly at him. I want to see his face, I want to find the corner of his mouth and kiss him there. But I want to reassure him more. “I’m stubborn, you’ll get that soon enough. I have demons, too, which isn’t a surprise. So, I’m asking you to take this slow with me, to see where this goes. If it ends badly,” his arm tightens around my shoulders like even if it does happen in the future, he’s going to refuse to let me go. “I... I want us to be friends. I can be your friend, Hunt. I’m a good friend.”
“I haven’t had a friend in a long time, baby. I might have forgotten how to be one.”
A knife twists in my heart. Being a badass can get lonely sometimes.
“Like riding a bike, or swimming. You know how to do it. As a friend, wanna come over to my buddy’s housewarming on Saturday? Um, we can bring Matty along, but he might get bored-”
“No. I’ll make arrangements.” He nods once, and kisses my cheek so bloody close to the corner of my mouth I end up holding my breath. “That was the last one, I swear. From now on, you call the shots. You want my arm off you?”
“I-I kind of like it where it is,” I whisper, almost sighing when the weight of it settles more deeply across my shoulders.
“I taped The Outsiders for you, if you want to watch that.”
I lean back and stare at him, mouth open. “How the frak did you know I love The Outsiders?”
He grins in the blue glow, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Your shirt, ‘My heart belongs to Ponyboy Curtis’. I looked it up. Didn’t think I could be jealous of a guy in a book. But I was.”
I don’t smile like a fool or say something mortifying like I love you. I don’t say any of these things – out loud. Instead, I settle in to watch the movie, hoping against hope that this – whatever it is- will turn into something so much more.
Bitching. Matty’s bitching – yelling, using the word crap (which he thinks is a bad word) in every way possible.
“Crap car, crap seat! I want to come with you and Sera!”
I want to laugh, so much so that I’ve rolled my lips into my mouth and clamped them shut. I can’t stop the shaking as I laugh quietly.
“Enough, kid. You can’t come with us. You’re staying with Grandma and Eddie.”
Matty sniffs and starts kicking the back of my seat.
“Hey! Stop it! Jesus, I need some alone time,” Hunter mutters and Matty stops talking, sniffling and breathing altogether. My stomach twists at his words. A child’s interpretation of the words is bound to become warped, and I’m afraid Matty is going to misunderstand. Hunter sighs, buckling him in with a few more tugs and clicks.
I reach my hand back without looking at Matty after Hunt closes his door and is coming around to the driver’s side. When his little paw sits in my palm, I give him a squeeze.
“Next time, okay, little buddy? Next time you get to come with us, alright?”
Matty doesn’t answer. The silence pummels me, settling like a cold, wet blanket around my shoulders. Shit.
Hunter gets in, cranks the engine over without so much as looking at me. Ten minutes pass before he apologizes.
“Matty, I’m sorry.” Hunter’s got a death grip around the steering wheel, knuckles flashing white. He stares straight ahead, but keeps looking in the rear-view mirror trying to keep eye contact with Matty. “We just need some grown-up time, okay? We’ll come get you when we’re done, and Sera will read to you when we get home.”
“Yeah, little buddy. We need to find out what’s under that trap door, right?” I say, referencing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. We both ignore the fact that if the night goes well, and everyone gets along, we’ll be home late, and Matty’ll be asleep. We’re lying to him so we can get some time to ourselves – so I can get to know Hunter the man, minus the Dad title. Still feels like a shitty thing to do.