Never Been Kissed: A Never Been Novel

by C.M. Kars

  “Can you watch him for a bit? Please? I want to take a shower.” Hunter says, rubbing his hand again over his face and that look is gone. Hunter has the ultimate poker-face. His blue eyes are steady on mine, until I catch them dip to my chest – reading my t-shirt, or checking out my boobs? A blush invades my cheeks with a burning sting - could I be any more obvious?

  “Sure. I can do that.”

  Hunter shakes his head, reaching for my wrist again. His big hand encircles the joint, burning me with his warmth. No guy has ever touched me like this. I flashback to when he kissed my knuckles and how much I loved that. What’s he gonna do now?

  He looks like he’s having a hard time swallowing. “Thank you for taking care of me.” His eyes are hard like diamonds, and my heart plays hopscotch in my chest. “Let me make it up to you, Sera,” he says, and my mind wipes out all information, all thought as I stare at his mouth and wonder what’s coming out of it.

  “Will you let me take you to breakfast tomorrow morning?”

  I snort; his eyes go all slit-sized. Not the answer he was looking for. “We tried breakfast, remember? I say something ‘wrong’, you get all pissy, and then I walk home. What makes you think I’m going to let you ruin my favourite meal of the day?”

  His eyes drop down to his lap, and he fidgets in his seat. Oh, snap – is he showing the tiniest bit of remorse?

  “I’m sorry I’m an asshole.” I decide I like this Hunter. I could like like this Hunter.

  “Daddy said a bad word! I get a quarter!” Matty jumps up and down between us. How in hell does Hunt make me forget about the kid? I’m losing it.

  “Why do you get a quarter?” I ask.

  “He loves those bubble gum balls from the dispensers. He won’t eat any other kind,” Hunter says, staring at me again, dipping down to my chest. I bristle, I mean, are my nipples showing or something? And how do I be discrete about checking in front of a little kid?

  Whatever.

  “So? Will you go to breakfast with me tomorrow morning?”

  I frown. “I have work early. I have to be in at seven. I eat at sixish.” I say this to discourage him from his plan. I’m giving him an out, a way to say: ‘Well, shit. I guess there’s a next time, or maybe never.’

  Again, Hunter doesn’t understand my language. “That’s fine. I’m up by then, anyway.” He grins at me – I must look crestfallen. That grin does funny things to me. “I’m gonna go take that shower now.” With that, he gently pushes his hips against my ass to move out of the way. I blush, hating my fair complexion.I nod, not really paying attention, liking too much the feeling of his body heat through my clothes. Jesus, I’ve gone sex-mad. It was bound to happen after twenty-five years.

  Hunter’s shower lasts sixteen minutes (I can’t to sixty in my head sixteen times). So, I’m not really paying attention to what Matty’s turning channels to when the water stops, and I assume Hunt’s towelling off. I tried really hard not to think of what he’s doing in there naked. And being naked what part of his body he’s touching that I would love to get my hands on, and maybe lick and suck on. What the fraking hell Brain? Shut up!

  Goddamn it. I watch the bathroom door open and Hunter step out of the room with steam billowing behind him, off his skin, like he’s actually smoking hot. Need pulses in my lower belly, and my breath comes quick and fast. I’ve never been affected like this, ever in my life. And it’s not fair that he can go parading around that skin, those muscles around for me to practically drool over.

  “Why are you naked?!” I yelp. I notice all of him. He’s got navy track pants on, saddled low on his hips, that sexy V that Katie calls ‘sex lines’ tapering below his waistband and pointing to one thing only. I gulp.

  I was supposed to be unaffected, cold as in ice. I’m not. My body’s been dipped in magma, and I’m burning all over. He’s just so manly. I’ve been to pool parties, I’ve seen all the guys in swimming trunks. Eli even dons a Speedo saying it cradles him rather than letting him flap around. Hard to argue with that kind of logic.

  Hunter’s just big, and muscular and so so manly that every female part of me is screaming in my head how hot he is. After all these years, I’m seriously attracted to a man. Truly attracted - not some crush that swells and dies down and eventually fades away. He makes me want to touch, to taste; I want to touch so badly my palms itch.

  He’s got thick pads for pecs; probably works out a lot to regulate his sugars. Nipples – pierced. I’m wet, just like that, and I have to hold back a little moan. Tattoos – everywhere. Tribal patterns,and words I can’t read too quickly ‘cause my eyes are going to the next design, the next set of words, trying to memorize all of him since I know I won’t be getting this chance again.

  Hunter keeps coming towards me, settling in front of me, blue eyes glittering. He must know what he looks like, and he’s being the world’s biggest asshole for making me want him when I can’t have him. Fucker.

  His knowing grin has stars bursting behind my now closed eyelids. My body’s a traitor, not a logical machine performing complex tasks. No, now its humming, alive; itching, tingling, pulsing with need. I understand now, what that girl in the elevator all that time ago said to him, the need in her voice.

  I’m not sure that Hunter is the person I want to give my virginity to. I’ve held it this long, might as well wait for someone to care for me first. Right? Right?

  “You alright?” He’s gone to his knees, arms on either side of my body, one at my feet, the other at my arms. I’m caged in by him. That shouldn’t be exciting but it is. I’m so screwed.

  “I think so. You’re extremely close.” My voice is wobbly, just like me.

  He nods. “I know that, baby.” Oh. Can I just pretend like he actually meant it, like I’m not dreaming and it just slipped out because he probably says it to his girlfriend all the time? I’m pathetic.

  I put my back flush with the back of the couch and try to breathe some air that doesn’t smell like his skin, or like baby shampoo, or his soap.I just need to get away from here, away from him. There’s only so much I can take.

  “I’m...I’m fine. I’m good. You good for me to go?”

  Hunter’s face goes soft, all the tension bleeding out of his features as he looks at me. It’s beautiful to see him so relaxed, and hard for me to realize that a few minutes ago, he was fighting for his life.

  “What do you feel like watching?” One of his hands has palmed my cold foot as I’m now curled up on the couch. Matty barges his way into our little conversation, getting in my face, pushing his Dad out of the way.

  “Yeah, Sera! We can watch Transformers 3!” Matty’s face is pinched with a worry that shouldn’t be on a little kid’s face.

  I grab both of his hands, toss the remote on the couch. “Matty, you did so good coming to get me. You remembered your Dad’s sugar level and everything. And you listened super well when I asked you to get me that honey, little man.” I ruffle his hair, and pull back from him. I’m horrified to see his eyes well with tears. He turns and winds his arms around Hunter’s throat, sobbing so hard into his chest that his body is violently dragging in air to let it out. Ah, shit.

  Hunter’s eyes are bleak, lost in memories or bad thoughts. He hugs Matty back and I watch this precious moment, hoping it’ll get Hunter to watch his sugars more carefully. He can’t leave Matty alone, he just can’t.

  “You were so brave, Matty. Thank you for taking care of me.” Hunter uses that special voice he used on me when he thanked me before. He can have the world at his feet when he talks like that. He can certainly have mine. My heart, too.

  The knock at the door comes at six-oh-one am. Punctual or trying to be clever?

  I’m worried ‘cause I wear make-up to work. I put on some mascara, some eye-shadow and lip gloss. Nothing crazy, but enough that it makes a difference. I’m worried because I don’t want Hunter thinking I did this for him, like I’m desperate, like I need to get his attention. Like I want something more than a shared meal.
/>
  I sound sixteen. Bloody hell.

  I open my door, watching as Hunter takes me in. He’s looking at me in a way that the guys would look at me. From my TARDIS-blue Converse paired with the black pencil skirt that even I have to admit makes my giant ass look sweet, to the deep violet blouse I’ve tucked into the skirt.

  “Are you done? I’m starving,” I say, waiting for the wisecracks. If I’d been home, my mom would’ve yelled at me to change, saying I couldn’t wear something so form-fitting, that I should be wearing baggy clothes to hide my body. Even now, her voice floats in my head to go change. I struggle to ignore it.

  Hunter doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty. He gives me a quick smile, like he’s genuinely happy to see me. I’m instantly suspicious. I start the mental countdown until he enters Asshole-ville.

  I turn and lock my door, only to find him still staring at me. “Do I have something in my hair? What is it?” No guy has ever stared at me like he’s staring at me. I pat my hair, looking for knots, or unmentionables stuck in the strands. Nothing.

  Hunter shakes his head, and ushers me forward with a hand around my wrist, gently tugging me towards the elevator once I lock my door. His thumb swipes that delicate section of skin on the inside of my wrist and my dumb body breaks into shivers. He catches it, too. I shrug.

  “Where’s Matty?” I ask, heart ratcheting up its rhythm when I can’t see him. Matty’s my buffer.

  Hunter hits the down button for the elevator. “I took him to my mom’s. She’s going to watch him today. I ruined her plans, but I wanted to take you out this morning.”

  I wish I could arch an eyebrow, it would be so badass right about now. “He’s with your mom? I feel like she would have a therapist, a nutritionist and a nanny with a master’s degree in parenting on hand. How far off am I?” Hunter’s wearing a black t-shirt, and those jeans that fit him just right. Eternal damnation he looks beautiful, and I’m not.

  Hunter stares at his shoes, thumb still swiping the inside of my wrist. When I try to pull away, I find myself standing closer to him. He’s a black hole, and I’m getting closer to the event-horizon. Damn it, the closer I get to him, the better I like it. Shit.

  “You’re not wrong,” he says, blue eyes bright, a tug at the corner of his mouth. I’ve amused him somehow. This guy’s not even my friend, and he’s appreciating my humour. Huh.

  I’m ushered into the elevator, staring everywhere but the infamous corner where I saw him for the first time. “Remember what happened last time when you got in my space? If you respect your boys, I suggest you let go of me.”

  I’m all bark and some bite. If Hunter wanted to hurt me, he definitely could. I’m stronger than your average Stick Princess, but I’m not ready to go up against a guy that looks like he does MMA.

  Hunter lets go of my wrist and moves away. I never really thought another human being would be so warm, or that the heat would be so comforting. I frown at his chest, refusing to look up yet.

  We’re quiet as we go down to the basement, and Hunter opens the passenger door of his car for me. I nod my thanks, pretending not to be flustered. Guys just don’t do that anymore – try to be gentlemen. At least not the ones I know.

  Hunter drives like he talks, with an authority that’d make you crazy to try and interrupt or cut him off. Five points from... Slytherin?

  “Are you always this quiet, or is just me?” he asks, and I’m jolted out of my Sorting.

  I shrug. “I don’t talk if I’ve got nothing to say.”

  “Rare for a female,” he comments, tapping a song out on his steering wheel with his thumb even though the radio’s off. “You guys like to talk and talk.”

  I clear my throat, fiddle with my glasses. Fraking hell, who does he think he’s talking to? “Don’t be a dick. I’ve met guys who like to prattle on about themselves and how awesome they are, and how much they get paid, and on it goes. Now, if we were talking about last week’s episode of Supernatural, then you’d might have a hard time shutting me up. You can’t generalize, Hunter. You’re always gonna find that one person who doesn’t fit in your box, and then where will you be?”

  I look back out the window, imagining what I’m going to eat when he doesn’t answer. Eggs with a side of French toast. Oh, yeah. I might even share some of my French toast with a certain diabetic if he’s nice.

  Hunter takes us to the same diner we ate with Matty yesterday morning. The smell of grease and burnt toast assaults my nose, while my stomach lets out a roar. We’re seated in another red vinyl booth that squeaks as I skid over the seat. Hunter grins at me. I roll my eyes. All guys really are the same.

  “What are you going to have?” I ask, perusing the menu, not seeing the writing. I’m not sure why Hunter wants to have breakfast with me. There’s gratefulness, then there’s obligation in spite of it all. I just need to remember the difference.

  “Eggs and steak. I need the protein.” Hunter says gruffly, like I’ve forced him to tell me a secret.

  “Makes sense,” I say, putting my menu down. “If you stay as this-Hunter, I might give you a slice of my French toast. Only if you’re nice, though. One asshole comment and I’m eating all of it myself.” I’m threatening the Beast and I’m giddy with my tiny sense of power.

  One eyebrow goes up. Even that’s sexy. “This is how you treat all your dates, by keeping ‘em on a short leash?”

  What?

  I look around the diner, wondering if my family put him up to this to ridicule me. Okay, I must’ve not heard correctly. He didn’t say date. This isn’t a date! I reach for my glass of water and gulp down the icy goodness.

  “This isn’t a date. Who the frak said anything about a date?” I chew on my inner cheek, my stomach turning into that roller coaster.“I’m hungry, you’re hungry. We’re mutually hungry together and so we’re sharing a meal.” Where’s my family? Hiding in the hall? I crane my neck left and right, but don’t see anyone from the Delos clan.

  I swallow down the anger, the hurt, and try to concentrate. The way my heart beats hard in my chest though, has me feeling like I’ve raced the Flash and won.

  “Sera, I’m going to be straight with you.” Hunter’s big body is draped along the back of the booth opposite me. He’s relaxed, and it looks like he got a good sleep last night after we watched Transformers 3 together since the dark under his eyes has faded. He looks...strong, capable, not like he was fading away only yesterday. Not like he couldn’t stand to eat last night. I’ve seen him weak and helpless twice now, but when he’s at a hundred percent, he’s at a hundred percent.

  I’m afraid he’s going to tell me I have cancer, his tone is doctor-serious.

  “I want to take you out to dinner.”

  “Dinner?” The word comes out on an exhaled breath. Is this a joke? It’s a joke right? Bloody hell, I’ve had dinner with Josh before, and we’re buddies. This doesn’t mean anything.

  He nods, a shallow dip of his chin. “Dinner. You and me. Together. Wherever you want to go.” His eyes do that looking through me thing again, and I’m ninety percent sure he knows what just went on in my head. He’s Charles Xavier!

  I shake my head. This is not computing. And I say those words. “Like on a date?”

  “Yeah. A date.” Hunter smiles, and praise J.K. Rowling, he has dimples. Oh my God!

  I thread my fingers together, making myself hold on. I clear my throat and push my glasses up my nose. “Do you want me to babysit Matty, is that it? You don’t have to date me for that, Hunt.”

  “I like that.” Confused, I just continue to stare. “Your nickname for me.” He keeps looking at me, and I don’t think he likes what he sees. Well, what else is new? Hunter leans forward, forearms hitting the edge of the table. “I’m not messing around. I want to take you out, show you I’m more.”

  Frowning, I ask, “More than what?”

  “More than what you saw last night. More than what you left at the hospital,” Hunter says, and my heart hurts for a few beats.


  I tilt my head to the side, and try for the right words. “I already know that. There’s no need to for us to go to dinner.” Got it. Saving face. That’s all this is.

  Hunter scowls at me. “Are you saying no to me?”

  “I’m saying no.” I say, nodding. I want to tell him I’m doing him a favour. That he doesn’t want to date a person like me, that him saying ‘thank you’ is enough, I don’t need dinner.

  “Can I ask why?” He’s a little off-kilter now, unsure. I may be the only female in the city who’s said no to him. I don’t know if I’m brilliant or dumber than dumb.

  “You don’t need another girl in your life right now.” Pulled that one out of my ass, thank you very much. I just so happened to recall those awful words his mom hurled at me that day in the hospital. I’d be just one of many.

  “Says who?” Angry, he’s getting angry.

  “Hunt, listen to me. I won’t go out with you. Will I help you out with Matty, yeah, sure. That leaves you to screw around with anyone you want.” I’m trying to be selfless, to think of the kid.

  “You don’t want me.” The words drop like bullet casings on the table between us, each audible, each echoing, each lonely.

  Getting pissed, I say, “What are you, new?” I’ve gone and spoken my odd language he doesn’t understand again. “Ever watch Boy Meets World? Cory Matthews said it.”

  I get a brilliant smile, so bright and beautiful my heart stumbles in a game of cardiac hopscotch.

  “So you want me.” Fraking hell, he’s really confident now.

  I roll my eyes so hard, my brain waves hello. “It’s rude to point out that you’re good looking and anyone with ovaries would notice. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but there’ more to a person than blue eyes, and stubble, and...” Shut up, shut up!

  The food arrives, the waitress either ignoring the tension between us or recognizing it and knowing it’s too early in the morning to deal with this shit.