Never Been Kissed(81)

“Gross!” Matty yells from the back. “You’re hurting my eyes, my eyes!”

I snicker, and go back to my space of the car, turning off the ignition, and unbuckle my seat belt.

“You’re hurting my ears with all your yelling, Matty.” I say, twisting to grab at his ankle and tickle his leg. “Do you want me to be Daddy’s girlfriend or not, huh?”

I shouldn’t’ve asked that. I realize my mistake too late and end up choking back an explanation for the question. Like why I am such a dork, a giant, humongous dork.

“Only if you read me Harry Potter from here until forever.”

The moment passes, the tension bleeds out of the car. I didn’t know I was chewing my lip so hard until I taste the tang of blood on my tongue. Super. Goddamn that’s a spectacular answer!

“I can do that. It’s a promise.”

I smile at Matty, and move to get out of the car. Leaving the driver’s side open, I move into the backseat door, open it and give Matty a wet kiss and a raspberry on his cheek. “See you later for Harry’s adventure?”

“Bye, Sera! Have fun at school!”

Cute. So cute. He thinks I’m going to school. Adorable.

I crawl back out, and shut the door. Cars honk at us as I right myself, but I ignore them. I mean, the hazard lights are on. Are you blind?

The breeze ruffles my hair, and the morning sun beats down on my shoulders. It’s going to be hot today, as in, I’ll be wishing for Montreal winters all day long. I spin around, and find Hunter standing in front of me. His hands go to my waist, warm and comforting. I wait for him to be an asshole, to pinch my fat and sneer in my face, and remind me that I’m going to die alone because who would ever want me? But he doesn’t do that. He never has.

Instead his thumbs caress up and down my belly, sending sparks into my skin, into my blood. My hands have found his biceps, and are clutching the muscle. More honking from cars that are passing us by. They may as well be all wearing invisibility cloaks for the attention I give them.

“Sera...” Hunt says, staring at me with such intensity it feels like he knows all my secrets, all my thoughts, everything that is me. He’s stripped me bare with a look and I want to run and hide away, and tell him I can be better, I can look better if he just gives me the chance. No one has looked inside me and has seen the good, has seen the beauty. I’ve always been ugly. Always.

But Hunter doesn’t make me feel so ugly. He makes me think there’s more to me than just a word, that I’m more than a body and long hair, and hazel eyes. I’m more than that. He sees that, and I think I can start to see it, too.

His hands at my waist become arms around my upper back, and I have two seconds to twist my neck so my cheek and temple rest on his shoulder before I get a broken nose. A hand pets my hair, from the crown of my head to the middle of my back, only to be done again and again. His lips get to my forehead, touching me there.

“Hunt? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, baby.” His voice is hoarse, thick with an emotion I’m not sure I have a name for. It could be self-loathing and self-pity rolled into one. It could be sorrow. It could be a sick gratefulness for life when you want it to be over. I don’t know, but I don’t like it. “I’m fine. My girl thinks I’m amazing. How much more okay can I be?”

Frak. He’s hurting and I don’t know why.

“I’m sorry that I have to go in now. But call me anytime today, and I can talk. I promise.” His blue eyes search my face when I pull back but he doesn’t let me go, like it isn’t an option. He’s starting to scare me. Icy fear trickles down my spine, down my throat, freezing me from the inside out.

“Sure, Sera.”

I wrap him up in my arms. Now I’m the one refusing to let go. I stare up at him, seeing through the mask he’s wearing, a finely cultivated piece of his face that hides what his eyes are blazing with.

My heart hurts just looking at him, at his need to keep up a front, in front of me. I thought we were passed that. But maybe I’m being insensitive. He nearly lost his son today – me, only two acquaintances that have made me (in my eyes, anyway) feel like I’m a better person.

I grit my teeth, anger chasing the fear and pain away.

“If you don’t call me at least two times today so I know you’re okay, I’m going to make the Daleks look like fluffy little poodles. You get me, Hunt?”

His mouth twitches and the world fuzzes out into red before coming back clear. “I don’t know what a Dalek is.”

I bare my teeth because the jackass is laughing at me. Like he doesn’t understand the seriousness of my comment. “The Daleks are an alien race that have had every emotion removed from them except hate. They hate all non-Dalek life, and will conquer and destroy all of it. You piss me off today, and things will not go well.”