“Oh, oh! I have one in my purse. Which is in the car.”
I’m pulled short, my forward momentum halted with a hand at my bicep. I twist around to look at Hunter. “Why do you have a juice in your purse?”
“I have several juices in my purse, plus sugar tablets. In case you and Matty get lows when we’re together. I’m like the boy scouts, I’m always prepared.” I grin, but lose it when I see the look on his face. ‘What’s the big deal?”
“I’m...I’m not sure. I guess I’ve been doing it on my own so long, I’m not sure how to react with you having everything ready.” He rubs his head as he opens the passenger door for me. “I’m going to need you to drive. Please.”
“That I can do. Buckle up.” I walk to the driver’s side and wait for Hunter to hand me the keys after I’ve given him the apple juice box I stowed in my purse. He drinks it in two seconds flat, before I even hit the garage door.
“I’m gonna drive to work first since I’m running late. You think you’ll be okay to drive Matty to daycare after, or you want me to go there first? Be honest.”
“I don’t like admitting I need help.”
I shrug. “Everybody needs help. Even Superman needs Batman’s help once in a while.”
“Iron Man is better than Batman, Sera.”
I grin into the rearview mirror at Matty. “You want to get into a rumble kid? Name the time and place.” I get a giggle. All is right in the world again. At least, I hope.
“Go to work, the juice should kick in by then. If not, I’ll park and wait around another twenty minutes. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Sera...why did you kiss Daddy?”
I almost swallow my tongue and sputter out a cough. “Uh, well, technically,” I say, “he kissed me, so you should be asking him that question.” Evasive maneuvers completed. “Actually, it’s because your dad wants to be my boyfriend.”
“Is that true, Daddy?” Matty asks, voice floating to us from the backseat. I don’t look at Hunter, but my heart does a little dance, and my throat’s too tight to speak. I’m waiting for his answer.
Lie to me, Hunter, but never lie to Matty. Never Matty.
Hunt sighs, settling deeper into the seat. “It’s true, buddy. Is that cool with you?”
I almost blow through a stop sign before I realize that I need to stop looking at the rearview mirror and trying to study Matty’s face. But I do it anyway, even after I brake hard to catch the stop line in time.
The little guy’s face is deep in thought, his blue eyes shrewd as he glances at the back of our heads, coming to his decision. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and I wonder if I should turn on the A/C to cool myself down. I swear to the Winchesters that I might be having some sort of psychotic break.
“Does that mean Sera is my mommy now?”
Oh. Oh, no. I squash down that happy thrill in my gut, and the warmth in my chest, because yes, yes I do want to be his Mom. It would be my honor to be his mom. But isn’t she out there somewhere already? Doesn’t she know who she’s missing out on?
“How about we say that I’m your Daddy’s girlfriend for now, okay, little man?”
Checking in the rearview mirror again, I can see his little eyebrows are furrowed over his eyes, and his lips mashed together. A four year old version of a mad face. Too cute to be mad at or take seriously.
Hunter is quiet beside me, so I keep driving on, fiddling with the radio until Def Leppard’s ‘Pour some sugar on me’ comes on the rock station and Matty starts singing it, all the raunchy lyrics, too.
Hunter joins me, and the disquiet I felt from before evaporates like it never was.
I get to work on time, double-park on the side of the road.
“You feeling better?” I ask, pulling Hunter’s hand into my lap. I rub my thumb along the tips of his fingers – callused and pockmarked with holes.
He stares at me, blue eyes full of questions. I tilt my head to the side, a silent invitation. His lips press into a thin line, and he rubs his skull-trim with his free hand. When I squeeze his fingers, he doesn’t squeeze back.
“Still think I’m amazing?” he says, voice almost splintering but his eyes are hard, resolute. He’ll take whatever answer I give him, good or bad, like the warrior he is.
My heart constricts, and I take a deep breath through my nose. I lean closer to him, tossing Matty a grin when I catch a glimpse of him through the corner of my eye.
“I don’t kiss losers,” I whisper right before our lips touch. “I kiss only badasses. And you are a badass, Hunter MacLaine.” I kiss him sweet, a touch of lips with the promise of more for later, when we’re alone.