Never Been Loved(44)

I laugh, and rub a hand through his hair. "I know, don't worry about it."

"Is this a grown-up thing that I won't understand ‘til I'm older?"

"Yeah."

Matty shrugs. "Is there going to be some kind of magic spell when I'm older that lets me know all the special grown-up things?"

"No, I'm just going to tell you all those special things."

"A magic spell would be better."

I smile, nice and easy. "I know, kid. I know. But make-believe isn't real."

Matty frowns, looking up at the ceiling, then back down at me. "Books and stories are make-believe, right?"

I nod.

"But they make you hurt, and sad, and happy and that's real."

I nod again, not sure where he's going with this.

"So that's kind of like magic, Daddy."

The kid just blindsided me with a sick kind of logic that's hard to deny. "I guess so."

"I know so." Matty nods, more to himself than me. "Can you make me some scrambled eggs with ketchup?"

"Let's go brush our teeth first, and I need you to be good for me and go to Grandma's today."

"Awwww man," he whines. "Do I have to? Maybe Uncle Eddie will let me help him in the kitchen?"

The kid can't concentrate for long on one thing and I'm having a hard time keeping up. Yeah, maybe the sugar's high. Shit.

"If you ask him really nicely."

Matty jumps off my bed and lands on his knees. He only says one ‘ouch'  then gets up and practically prances to the bathroom, knocking something  in the sink in the process. "I didn't make a mess! I didn't!" he yells,  as I stare up at the ceiling, going through my game plan.

Today's important, asshole, and you need to keep your shit together.  Make sure you're on the level so you can be at a hundred percent. Be  courteous, and don't let on how much you want her  –  it freaks her out.  Be cool.

And try not to fuck it all to hell.



Yeah, I'm nervous. And while owning it to myself that I'm pretty fucking  scared of what's going to happen next, and how I'm probably going to  ruin any chance I have with Sera, still has me knocking on her door and  hoping she answers for me.

Maybe she will, maybe she won't, but the head rush is getting to me and I  might need to sit right back down before I do something to embarrass  myself.

Sera opens the door for me. Maybe beating my chest like a gorilla  wouldn't be such a good idea right now. She gives me a small smile, and  Christ, she's got my balls in the palm of her hand and she doesn't even  know it.

I should've worn a suit, an actual suit with the bowtie and everything.  The way she's looking at my black hoodie and shirt gives me the distinct  impression that she might want me to take them off some time soon.

Go slow, asshole. Go fucking slow.

"Hey," she says, waving at me. I keep my mouth under control but all I  want to do is smile, and smile hard. She's got the thing in my chest  doing acrobatics and jumping on a trampoline all at the same time. She's  adorable and sexy and everything I could ever want.

I nod hello, and watch her eyebrows pinch together. I can almost hear the question coming.

"Uh, does Matty need Peter Pan again or something?"

Here we go. Don't blow it, don't blow it. "I wanted to spend the day with you."

"All right," she says, not all that enthusiastic. How did I fuck it up  already? "I was just gonna stay in, watch some TV, movies, maybe read.  You're welcome to join, if you want."

There's your in. "I apparently have to watch Pirates of the Caribbean. I'm under strict orders."

She does this weird giggle and goes to town on some skin under her cast,  the very cast that they put on last night because Tommy, that fucker,  couldn't keep his mouth shut.         

     



 

I wish I could have been there, watched her sock him in the face. I'm  not ashamed to say it would turn me on, hell no. A woman who knows what  she's supposed to do is a fucking huge turn on, except Sera got hurt,  and in part because of me. Because I couldn't say anything.

"Where's the little guy?" she asks, peering into the hall after I've come into her place.

I didn't look properly last time. I really didn't take in the display of  artwork, hell the display of everything in her home that just screams  they're pieces of her, lying around for the rest of us to see.

There's a huge bookcase that's overflowing, every inch of space crammed  tight with more books, and more even stacked on the top shelf, gathering  dust. Her DVD shelves are impressive, and the artwork adorning her  living room walls makes me realize that I'll never compare.

Not at all.

Doesn't mean I'm not going to give it all I have.

"I wanted to be alone with you today. The kid steals my thunder."

"Well...yeah. Have you met him?" she says, locking her door behind me. I toe off my shoes and follow her into the kitchen.

She pushes her glasses up her nose and asks, "Do you want something to drink, eat?"

"You'll let me know when you need anything? All right. Lemme get the movie started."

She brings over her glass of water to the living room, moving out a  coaster that has her blushing for some reason. I have a crazy need to  snatch it from under her glass and see what's on it. Is it porn?

Looking through the glass as she moves to her DVD player after nabbing  the disc, I see it's just a character from Star Wars  –  a movie I  apparently need to see as I take my seat on her couch.

Watching her move is a kind of torture. I want to touch, and I curl my  hands into fists that have my knuckles cracking. She's so beautiful, so  strong, and she has no clue, no fucking clue.

"Whose shirt are you wearing, baby?"

Good job, MacLaine. Your mouth didn't consult with me when it spewed out  that shit. What don't you get about ‘going slow', asshole?

It's none of my business. None at all. What the hell did I just say?

"Uh, mine. You like?" She turns back towards me, and fans it out away  from her body so I can see the whole design of it. There's no need for  her to do it, since the thing only says SAMCRO on her chest. Christ, why  does she have to be so cute?

"Yeah, but I want to know who it belongs to." I'm going to jump out of a  window. Goddamn it, what the hell is wrong with me? She's got me so  twisted up inside, I have no idea what's going on. I have no claim on  her, none. Doesn't matter whose shirt she has on.

Unless this has all been a game, and I've been teased into believing I could win.

I clench my jaw. She frowns at me. But I need to know. Is she playing me, like everybody else has?

"It's mine, Hunt. I'm not a klepto."

"Whose was it before it was yours?" Hey Big Man. I need your help. How  about you strike me dead? I'm being an asshole again, and I don't want  to be. Help me out?

"I don't actually know."

I lean forward, planting my elbows on my thighs, getting closer to her.  She's frozen at her spot near the TV and she's looking at me like I've  gone and done something equal parts stupid as hell, and adorable. Give  me more of the adorable look, baby. Please.

"Did an ex-boyfriend give that to you?"

She tumbles on her way over to me, catching one of her feet on mine, and  crashes into me. I get an instant of softness-fuck, her breasts up  against my chest, her flesh on top of me-and I have to remember how to  swallow.

"Are you serious? I wear my shirts big, Hunt. I got it online, actually.  Sweet deal, too." She laughs, scrambling upright, hands on my thighs  and looking up at me from on her knees. She leans in and lightly kisses  my cheek.

I'm paralyzed and alive all at once.

"Why is that so funny? You're wearing a man's shirt. It was a logical  assumption." Even I hear the change in my voice, the softness, the way  the edge to it has left. I have no right to ask these questions, but how  else am I going to know?

"You're right, it was," she says. It's like she's talking to Matty. She  gets up and sits next to me, palming the remote in her hand and staring  at the black screen.

"You wouldn't like it if I had Aly's shit lying around at my place."

Big Man, put me out of my misery. Why do I keep fucking this up? Why?

Because you think it's what you deserve, MacLaine. You know you're not  good enough for her, and you're terrified she's going to come to her  senses and realize that yeah, she needs to upgrade to a better version.         

     



 

She turns her head to look at me then, and I swear, she knows exactly what I'm thinking. How can't she?

She keeps looking at my mouth and I check the need to lean in and kiss her, like we almost nearly did the night before.

She drags her eyes away from my mouth and says, "Hunt, if you're wearing her shit, then we've got problems."

You just got schooled, asshole.

I start laughing, abs doing the rocking and rolling, and I've got her  curled into my side with some pressure of my arm, and my lips are on top  of her hair and everything is fucking stellar, for once.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," she mumbles against my chest.

I grin down at her perfect face, and keeping her close, turn to look at  the screen. You have to add Harry Potter to your list of shit to do.