Never Been Loved(85)

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?