Never Been Loved (31 page)

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.

“As soon as Captain Jack comes on screen, it’s quiet time. No interrupting. I get really into it, so I might fidget or make noises, or whatever. No judging allowed.”

I kiss the top of her head again, because I want to, and she gets even closer to me. This could be one of the better days of my life.

Johnny Depp is a mastermind when it comes to acting. I mean, I didn’t know it until just now, since
Blow
was the only movie I’ve ever seen with him when I was younger. I might admit to Sera that I want to be a pirate, just to see her smile, watch her eyes get all big and interesting.

When the movie’s done, Sera checks her phone, and starts moving to her kitchen to make something to eat. She opts for calling the person, and I look around her kitchen trying to figure out without a map where she stashes all the pots, pans, and everything else we’re gonna need.

I’m going to make her my specialty: grilled cheese sandwiches. I get the butter from the fridge, the pan from the cupboards and some bread and Singles ready to go.

“Sorry, Hunt, I had to take that,” Sera says, walking back into the kitchen, all smiles. It feels like she’s opened up my chest cavity and grabbed onto my heart – I’m still living and breathing at her command. I get a wave of dizziness that I can’t really explain – is it the sugar, or something else?

She looks down at the flipped grilled cheeses, and licks her lips. Then she frowns at the food and looks up at me, worried.

“Is this enough food for you? Do you have more protein next door? I ran out of everything – I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

She’s amazing. Absolutely amazing.

I’ve never had anyone be so accepting of what I have, of my limitations; it’s all easy with her, so damn easy.

“I’ll be good. I’ve been to the gym already, and you only have brown bread so the sugar intake goes down some.” I’m not embarrassed talking to her about it, I never thought that would be possible.

She gets plates, moving around me while I man the stove, squashing down the sandwiches so the cheese will melt. Sera pulls down four green glasses, and I realize they’re
Ninja Turtles
like the old cartoon I used to watch when I was a kid.

Nerdy all the way through.

I love that she snags away her favourite and leaves me to decide. I grin down at the glass, watching Raphael’s mug stare up at me.

She gets the beer, and we move to the living room, sitting down on the couch. She’d pulled aside a stack of DVDs before I finished up the grilled cheeses and I’m shown some pretty awesome movies, watching her watch them like it’s the first time.

She practically lives the stories along with the characters and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful. I also notice the shit out of her having drunk three beers. She keeps smacking her lips and her cheeks have gone pink.

She’s going to kill me, I know it.

“Hunt, you wanna play a game?” she asks, moving in her spot practically plastered to me. Ah, fuck, I’m going to die. She’s going to end me right now.

Drink up, asshole.
You’re going to need it.

Chapter 23

“Depends,” I say, drawing it out. Sera’s tipsy, and she’s looking at me like she knows what she wants. The beer might just give her that little push to take a chance on me, a real chance.

Wouldn’t it suck if you kiss and you’re utter shit at it?

“How about you be the teacher and I be the student?”

She can’t be doing this to me. Not now. Flashes of her body on top of mine, under mine, left and right as I watch her come over and over again by my hands and mouth.

I’m panting like I’ve gone hard at the gym for a solid hour.

It’s all in her hands now.

While she’s looking at me, and she knows who she’s with, I have to be sure. I won’t be a substitute for an alcoholic haze. Fuck that.

Her hands reach out and fall on my cheeks. I’m sure she can hear the thing in my chest sprinting against my rib cage, and her eyes are glued to my mouth.

Fuck, baby, please. Please.

“I don’t know what you want,” I whisper, as she moves closer and closer to me.
Fuck this, just plant one on her.

Shut up! This is her call!

I want to taste her—fuck, do I. I can’t tear my eyes away from her mouth.

“I want to play a game. You’re going to pretend to teach me how to kiss.”

Shit.

A smile tugs my mouth, and I stare at her, eyes drooping. My dick twitches and I’m going to have serious problems real soon. Fuck, what is she playing at?