Never Been Kissed: A Never Been Novel

by Kars, C. M.

  “I don’t get it.” I want to laugh again, but I sense that this is important – a life lesson disguised as dinner conversation.

  “When I do this,” Hunter says, ghosting his lips over my knuckles one more time. The touch of his mouth is so sweet, my heart aches, and I end up forgetting how to breathe. “I’m saying I like her.”

  “Is it like when Peter kisses Wendy’s hand?”

  Bloody hell. How do I explain that Peter will never see Wendy Darling the same way as Hunter is looking at me right now?

  “Yeah, buddy. That’s exactly it,” Hunter says, totally ruining the story.

  “I think I understand.” Matty nods, once, then twice more, like he really gets it now. “Daddy, can we go to the park now? You said after supper we could go.” Then he looks at me. “Sera, wanna play soccer?” His eyes are wide and he’s nodding his head quick and fast like he’s trying to hypnotize me into doing the same.

  “Pffft. You don’t want to play me, buddy. I’ll kick your little bum,” I say, blowing air on my knuckles.

  Matty points at me, and then hits the table with an open hand. “I thought you said a bad word. So? Wanna play? I bet Daddy’s better than you!”

  Sweet hippogriffs, I might have a chance at showing off some of my soccer skillz. I turn to Hunt and say, “I’ll kick your bum, too. Game on?”

  He rubs his mouth with the hand I’d been holding, like he’s trying to hide words he wants to say. “You’re playing dressed like that?” And he does that overall look from the top of my head, to the tips of my toes. Every part of my body starts to tingle.

  “I’ll show you and your boy how a lady can kick gluteus!” I stammer, ignoring the satisfied grin on his face.“I’m trying to avoid losing quarters. ”

  Hunter resumes rubbing his mouth, but more slowly now, thinking, wondering. “Game on, then. When I kick your...bum, even in those fine clothes, we’re going to talk, aren’t we?”

  I smooth the nonexistent wrinkles from my skirt, nodding with my hair hiding my face. I look up while biting down on my back molars. His face is resolute, solemn and oh so perfect, I curse his genetics. And then take it back. “Yeah. We’ll talk. But not before I score a hat-trick!”

  ***

  The game wasn’t what I expected. It started off with us kicking a ball around at a nearby park with the smaller soccer fields for younger age groups. We started off a tiny game as a trio, even playing monkey-in-the-middle. By the end, it was like Hunter and I had personal vendettas out on each other and the next goal would decide who would be the ruler of the known universe.

  I didn’t get my hat-trick.

  I had to roll down the waist of my skirt, so my knees and stride had more room as I kicked, deked, and played my ass off in Chucks. Without my cleats, I slipped and fell a lot, always to have Hunter sling and arm around my waist stopping me from going completely down.

  Hunter didn’t play fair. When I got a breakaway, his long legs caught up to me, and he’d hook me around the waist and twirl me until the world went by me in blurs, and all I could hear was my laboured breathing and Matty’s happy laugh.

  On a penalty kick since Matty (as the goalie) fouled me, kicking my shin when he missed the ball, Hunter pressed a kiss to the side of my neck, refusing to move from right behind me when I took my mini-kick and I actually scored. I wanted to just graze the far post, keeping Matty’s little-kid dignity intact, but I screwed it up when Hunter distracted me.

  Matty had a tantrum, kicking the ball over and over into the net, angry tears spilling down his cheeks. I kept hearing him scream ‘Why am I no good at this, too?’, crying and kicking the stupid ball over and over again.

  I stayed back, watching Hunter rub Matty’s back, and finally pull him into a hug as he kneeled down. The little guy just sobbed into his shoulder, and the pain in my throat exploded to past excruciating. I felt like shit.

  Walking back to our building, heart heavy and feet dragging, I cussed myself out in the three languages I know. The elevator ride was quiet, Matty’s sniffles the only sound until we binged our way to our floor.

  “Sera? You’re still going to read to me, right?”

  I nod, wiping the sweat off my forehead with my blouse’s sleeve. “If that’s what you want, Matty. I’ll be over soon, okay?” Hunter nods at me and we go to our respective doors.

  I read Matty the first Harry Potter, and I enjoy every one of his reactions. When he found out that the cat was none other than Professor McGonagall, he gasped and sat upright in bed, proclaiming it wasn’t real. I told him that in Harry’s world – it is.

  The kid conks out after I hit chapter three, little head resting on my shoulder. I use worm-like movements to wiggle off his bed, nearly tumbling off it when I thought I had more room to go. Guess not.

  The rest of the apartment is pitch black when I turn off Matty’s light. Staying still, I see a light in the kitchen – the fridge light. I hurry to it, suddenly afraid of being alone in the dark.

  “Why don’t you close Matty’s door, and you can open the lights?” I whisper, gasp when the fridge light is gone and Hunter becomes part of the darkness while my eyes adjust, looking for photons to help us see the way.

  I jump when his hand touches mine, and I get a sense of him, standing in front of me. I can smell him, I can feel his heat, inching closer and closer, until his lips are at my ear.

  “I need his door open so I can check on him during the night. And I do it to test my vision. I force my eyes to get accustomed to the dark.”

  “Oh. Your sugars, right?”

  His lips graze my ear lobe, and kiss my cheek. It feels like a lightning strike rocks right through my body and settles between my legs. These kisses are driving me mad. “I forget that you know all this already. I love that I don’t have to explain any of this to you.”

  His body heat makes me shiver, and my nipples harden. Well, at least he can’t see. “Are... are you dressed?” I whisper. Say yes! Say no!

  “Hmmmm,” he groans in my ear, bringing our bodies closer together. Both hands are now at my waist, finding my ribcage underneath the baggy t-shirt I’m wearing to bed. “Do you want me to be?”

  “Holy Tardis of Gallifrey! You better be wearing at least sweats or I will leave this apartment right now!” I try to snarl, but it comes out in a shrill. I don’t know how to play it cool to save my life. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

  Hunter laughs, hugging me close, the rumble in his chest hitting my boobs and my tummy. All this is so new to me, this affection, the way you can share a laugh with only one of you actually only doing it.

  He’s not wearing a shirt, and a nipple ring is probably three inches from my mouth. Jesus Christ. Hunt guides us to the couch, arranging me so I’m sitting next to him, and arm wrapped around my shoulders. He turns the TV on, so everything has that awful blue glow, but at least it’s light to see with.

  “See? I’m wearing sweats.”

  I clear my throat, ignoring the way his muscles look exceptionally good in the blue glow. And they’re so very close for me to touch. “I think you should put a shirt on, too.”

  “No way. I like the way you look at me.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m as transparent as the freaking Invisible Man. Shit.“I don’t like the way I look at you. Please, for the love of Castiel, please put on a shirt for me.” I keep my eyes on the screen, watch a few scenes from Die Hard before it goes to commercial.

  “Why?” His voice is whisper-soft.

  “I’m... uncomfortable.”

  He snorts. “Baby, I’ve been out of the game for awhile, but the way you look at me, you’re not uncomfortable, are you?”

  Fuck it, just tell him. Maybe he’ll be grossed out by the way you want him, and he’ll leave you alone. And I’ll know the truth. That no guy that looks like him could ever want someone who looks like me.

  I glare at him. “I think you’re so bloody beautiful, I’m wondering what you’re doing here on the couch with me, when you hav
e Alysha on the backburner. And that makes me uncomfortable.”

  The way his breath comes out of his nose forcefully reminds me of a bull pawing at the ground. “I guess I deserve that.”

  “Yeah, you deserve it! You’ve been with Alysha a long time, am I right?” He nods, a shallow dip of his chin. “The whole tossing her aside thing is more than freaking me out. Beautiful guys like you, they use and destroy girls like me. And if you can toss aside Alysha when she’s clearly that gorgeous, I’m wondering what’s in store for me.”

  Oh, shit. His warm hand settles at the nape of my neck, and my dumb body starts shivering from head to toe. “Baby, you’re not getting it. The question isn’t if you’re good enough for me, looks-wise, personality-wise, what the fuck ever, but whether I’m good enough for you.”

  I fist my hands in my lap and glare at him, oblivious to all the gunfire in the movie.

  “Then prove it to me. Prove to me that I’m good enough for you.”

  “I thought I was doing that, Sera. You think Aly even says hello to Matty, you think she talks to him about Batman and Superman? Yeah, right. She can’t even fucking deal with my sugars let alone the kid. You think Aly plays with him? Christ, Sera, did you see how he asked you play soccer? I don’t even do that, and you’re a stranger. That means something to me. From where I’m sitting you’re more than good enough. And I haven’t even started on the killer body you have.”

  Ha, killer body.

  “Speaking of the soccer game - why did you bloody kiss me when I took my penalty kick? I ended up scoring and I made him cry.” I sound like a little kid that scraped her knee, voice all pinched with hurt. “I was going to miss.”

  Hunter lets me change the subject with a little nod of his head. “You don’t think he would’ve known that? He’s four, not an idiot.”

  This is true. “But he cried! And it’s my fault!” I breathe out heavy air.

  “Sera, that’s a lesson he has to learn. He has limitations, he needs to know that he can’t push his body like everyone else can.”

  “But he’s four! Can’t he learn that lesson when he’s forty-five or something?” I wave off into the distance to a future I’m not sure I’ll be part of.

  “This isn’t what I really wanted to talk about.”

  “Oh-kay...” I swallow what little saliva my mouth has left. “I’m still pissed at you.”

  “Are you pissed because you messed up? Or is it because I kissed you and you lost your concentration?” He palms my face so I can look at him. I can’t read what’s on his face, in his eyes with only the blue glow.

  “They’re one and the same, Hunt.”

  “No, baby, they’re not and you know it.” His thumb traces my cheek bone, lulling me. I catch my eyes drooping and tell them to pay attention. “We’re going to take it slow, as slow as you want to go. I don’t want you running.”

  “What will I run from? What’s so bad about you?”

  He tenses, and his thumb stops moving on my face. I want to nudge my face into his hand to make him keep going. “I’m screwed up, just like everybody else. I have demons, just like everybody else. But I’m going to show you the good, Sera, so when we get to the bad, you’ll stay – because you want to.”

  “You’re kinda freaking me out. This isn’t normal dating behavior.”

  “Am I normal?”

  I’m so badass, I run my hands along his scalp. The sound he makes almost sounds like a purr. “Well, yeah. I don’t see horns sprouting out of your head, and your chompers don’t have any sharp edges to suck my blood with. Unless you’re a werewolf?”

  “I like how you make me laugh when I’m trying to be serious,” he says, and kisses my cheek. My heart does a happy dance, and something warm hits my belly. Shit, I really, really like him.

  “I like making people laugh.” I state, clearing my throat. “Still, I don’t know why you’re telling me this up front. Or why you want to date me. What about Alysha?”

  “I’ll deal with Aly. She and I were over last month, my mom just doesn’t know it yet.” He says the words like he’s biting them off a piece of raw steak. “All you need to worry about is you and me. I don’t lie, Sera, but you don’t know that much about me to get that. You’ll learn, soon enough. I don’t cheat; my asshole father did enough of that. I don’t do drugs, or drink out of hand – I have Matty to look after.”

  I nod, blink slowly at him. I want to see his face, I want to find the corner of his mouth and kiss him there. But I want to reassure him more. “I’m stubborn, you’ll get that soon enough. I have demons, too, which isn’t a surprise. So, I’m asking you to take this slow with me, to see where this goes. If it ends badly,” his arm tightens around my shoulders like even if it does happen in the future, he’s going to refuse to let me go. “I... I want us to be friends. I can be your friend, Hunt. I’m a good friend.”

  “I haven’t had a friend in a long time, baby. I might have forgotten how to be one.”

  A knife twists in my heart. Being a badass can get lonely sometimes.

  “Like riding a bike, or swimming. You know how to do it. As a friend, wanna come over to my buddy’s housewarming on Saturday? Um, we can bring Matty along, but he might get bored-”

  “No. I’ll make arrangements.” He nods once, and kisses my cheek so bloody close to the corner of my mouth I end up holding my breath. “That was the last one, I swear. From now on, you call the shots. You want my arm off you?”

  “I-I kind of like it where it is,” I whisper, almost sighing when the weight of it settles more deeply across my shoulders.

  “I taped The Outsiders for you, if you want to watch that.”

  I lean back and stare at him, mouth open. “How the frak did you know I love The Outsiders?”

  He grins in the blue glow, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Your shirt, ‘My heart belongs to Ponyboy Curtis’. I looked it up. Didn’t think I could be jealous of a guy in a book. But I was.”

  I don’t smile like a fool or say something mortifying like I love you. I don’t say any of these things – out loud. Instead, I settle in to watch the movie, hoping against hope that this – whatever it is- will turn into something so much more.

  Bitching. Matty’s bitching – yelling, using the word crap (which he thinks is a bad word) in every way possible.

  “Crap car, crap seat! I want to come with you and Sera!”

  I want to laugh, so much so that I’ve rolled my lips into my mouth and clamped them shut. I can’t stop the shaking as I laugh quietly.

  “Enough, kid. You can’t come with us. You’re staying with Grandma and Eddie.”

  Matty sniffs and starts kicking the back of my seat.

  “Hey! Stop it! Jesus, I need some alone time,” Hunter mutters and Matty stops talking, sniffling and breathing altogether. My stomach twists at his words. A child’s interpretation of the words is bound to become warped, and I’m afraid Matty is going to misunderstand. Hunter sighs, buckling him in with a few more tugs and clicks.

  I reach my hand back without looking at Matty after Hunt closes his door and is coming around to the driver’s side. When his little paw sits in my palm, I give him a squeeze.

  “Next time, okay, little buddy? Next time you get to come with us, alright?”

  Matty doesn’t answer. The silence pummels me, settling like a cold, wet blanket around my shoulders. Shit.

  Hunter gets in, cranks the engine over without so much as looking at me. Ten minutes pass before he apologizes.

  “Matty, I’m sorry.” Hunter’s got a death grip around the steering wheel, knuckles flashing white. He stares straight ahead, but keeps looking in the rear-view mirror trying to keep eye contact with Matty. “We just need some grown-up time, okay? We’ll come get you when we’re done, and Sera will read to you when we get home.”

  “Yeah, little buddy. We need to find out what’s under that trap door, right?” I say, referencing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. We both ignore the fact that if the night go
es well, and everyone gets along, we’ll be home late, and Matty’ll be asleep. We’re lying to him so we can get some time to ourselves – so I can get to know Hunter the man, minus the Dad title. Still feels like a shitty thing to do.

  “Fine, but I want a whole three chapters tonight! Even if I fall asleep, you have to wake me up so you can read!” Matty grumbles, no longer kicking the back of my seat.

  “Kid- what did we say about asking and telling?” The leather around the steering wheel groans as Hunter looks back in the rear-view mirror. “Ask Sera nicely to read to you tonight. Please.”

  “I don’t want to! I want to come with you and Sera! Please? Why can’t I?”

  Hunter sighs, scratching his cheek; sounds like he has stubble.

  “Stop it right now. You’re going to grandma’s and that’s it. Deal.”

  I keep quiet. This is not my place, to interject in Hunter’s parenting skills or whatever. Not like there’s a guidebook or a Parenting for Dummies or something like that to help him out. He does as he sees fit. He’s Matty’s Dad and I’m just... uh...not his Mom.

  I stay in the car when we drop off Matty, and the kid is going berserk, kicking and punching and howling like he’s a wolf who’s got his paw caught in a trap. Awful to hear and the familiar guilt comes back like a long lost old friend, hot and heavy in the pit of my gut.

  “Sorry. He’s been wigging out all day long. I think he had a bad day at daycare or something,” Hunter says, closing the door and cranking the car over again. He’s quiet for a time, the only sound the engine and slight whistle of wind coming from my open window. I’m content enough to watch the scenery go by; streetlamps burning amber, people and kids walking in the dusk light laughing, enjoying summer at last.

  “I’m not a bad Dad,” he says.

  I whip around to look at him, and his eyes flash at me a second a before he turns to look forward again.

  “I never said you were.” I worry the hem of my Wonder Woman red tank, and chew on my lip. “I can’t judge you, Hunt. You’re doing the best you can.”